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  I worked up some kind of courage, grabbed the hat from my drawer, and left my station. I went to the front. Finn stared at me with bug eyes as I approached, as if to say, ‘this guy you screwed, he’s back, what should we do?’

  I ignored Finn. My eyes were on Nick’s. It was impossibly hard facing him again. I’d been through every emotion in the book these last few weeks. I couldn’t go a single day without thinking of him, thanks to the little life now living inside me. And the worst part was, I bet he’d barely thought of me at all. He’d probably thought more about this hat than of me. “It’s here,” I said. I reached across the counter, Finn directly to my right now, and I handed Nick his hat.

  He took it. He even slipped it on. It was May now, and probably almost eighty degrees outside, but he put it on anyway. He smiled at me. “Thanks for holding on to it for me. I appreciate that.”

  I melted. I couldn’t help it. Like a slab of butter on the hot pavement, a few words out of his mouth, and I was done for. He was more handsome than I remembered. His smile more perfect. His eyes a richer color. The hat looked pretty damn good on him. He had to know that. He came back because he knew this particular hat looked that good on him.

  I noticed a woman. For a second, I wasn’t entirely sure whether she’d come in with Nick or not. She hung by the door, in a black sweatshirt with the hood up and sunglasses covering most of her face. From what I could see, she was gorgeous. I decided she must be with Nick. Why wouldn’t she be? Why wouldn’t he have some gorgeous girlfriend already? It had been two months since our night together, plenty of time for him to meet and fall in love with some beautiful woman such as this one. The way she had her hood up like that—acting like she was too good for this place and didn’t want to get too close to touch anything. I figured, yeah, she belonged with Nick.

  It stung though. It really fucking stung. Finn must have come to the same conclusion as me about the woman by the door. Because he draped an arm over my shoulder, pulling me in against his side, putting on a show like I was his girl or something. “You need anything else, turtle guy?”

  “Nick,” the woman whispered. She had the softest, smallest voice. But one word out of her mouth and Nick responded.

  “I don’t need anything else. Not today. Goodbye, Amanda.” He stepped backward for the door, moving in her direction.

  A second later, he was holding open the door for the woman in the hoodie. She went past him carefully. Then the two of them disappeared. The moment the door closed, I curled into Finn’s chest. “That was the worst,” I whispered, trying to fight off the tears that wanted to come flooding.

  “I know,” Finn muttered. “Nick’s an asshole. He’s an asshole for bringing the girl in here like that. Right in front of you. Showing her off.”

  I don’t know if he’d been showing her off, she was in a hoodie and wore sunglasses, but I knew what Finn meant. At the very least, Nick could have asked his girlfriend to wait in the car.

  “I am so lost,” Patrick commented, running his hands through his long, wild, untamed hair. “Can someone fill me in?”

  Great. Now I had to tell another person my life problems. Thanks, Nick.

  ~ CHAPTER 13 ~

  NICK

  Blood passing through my ears—this thump, thump, thump—was always the first symptom. A small sound that grew so loud, it drowned out everything else. A panic attack for me always came on suddenly, without warning, sometimes when I was doing nothing more than taking a shower or lying in my bed at night. Actually, I never minded when a panic attack hit me in those places. I preferred it. In those places, at those times, no one had to know or see. But this one started just after leaving Kill Devil Ink, just after sitting down and starting my car in the parking lot.

  It was a beautiful sunny day. Lou, in the passenger seat beside me, gushed over her accomplishment. We’d been back in town almost two weeks now, and this was the first time I’d taken her around other people since our twelve-hour drive from Maine. “I did it. I went inside with you. Did you see all the tattoos on that big guy?! I’ve never seen anything like him. He was like a man straight out of a romance novel!”

  My hands on the steering wheel were tingling, like pins and needles. My vision turned dark and spotted with stars. Suddenly, I was hot and sweaty. So hot I wanted to strip off my shirt. I didn’t, though, because I knew what was happening. “Two minutes, Lou,” I breathed, my voice caught in my throat. “Give me… two minutes.”

  I hopped out of the car. You’re dying. I wasn’t dying. I knew better. You’re fucking dying. Say goodbye now. You’ll die on this pavement, get run over like a pancake, and the pretty tattoo artist girl will find your dead, squished corpse.

  I sank to the pavement, my head between my knees, and tried to breathe.

  Shit. Why here? Why now? I’d been okay a second ago. Now I felt like I was about to black out. It could have been two minutes. It could have been ten. It could have been an hour. Time was impossible to measure. But eventually the intensity on my chest lifted. My full sight returned. I gained enough strength in my muscles, and I was able to stand. I pushed against the tire of my car, making black marks on my hands, and I stood to my feet.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Oh God. It wasn’t Lou. She was in the car where I had left her. She knew all I wanted when I had a panic attack was to be left alone. The voice was Amanda’s. She must have followed me outside. In my head the attack had lasted forever; in reality I bet only two minutes or so had been spent in my own personal hell on the pavement.

  “You okay?” she asked again.

  “Yes.” Other than the extreme exhaustion I now felt, I was fine.

  “Okay. I thought you’d tripped or something.” She’d hadn’t seen me trip. She’d seen everything that had just happened. I was willing to bet money on it, judging by the concern on her face.

  “I’m fine. Just a small stomachache. Did you need something?” I asked. Dammit, under different circumstances, I would have liked to have had a conversation with her. We certainly had plenty of unfinished business we could have been getting to. That night we’d spent together, getting each other off as many times as humanly possible, had been pretty damn incredible. If she was into it, I’d be up for another round. But up for talking about what just happened—nope, not ever.

  “No, I didn’t need anything,” she said, stepping back. “Just saying goodbye. Goodbye, Nick.”

  She remembered my name. I liked that she knew it, and for whatever reason, I liked that she’d followed me outside. She started to turn away, but I called after her.

  “Hey.”

  She paused.

  “You and your guy sure looked cozy again. Seems like that relationship is going well for you.” I referred to Meat Head inside. I’d noticed the way he made a show of putting his arm around her in front of me.

  “Finn and I never stopped being cozy. Our relationship is great.”

  She was such a liar. “You’re so full of shit,” I muttered, calling her out. I moved a little closer to her. She wasn’t with him. Maybe she had him wrapped around her finger, but she wasn’t with him. I just knew she wasn’t. She wouldn’t be out here talking to me if she was. I felt my guard slipping, and quickly. “My tattoo isn’t finished. I think there’s more to it than the turtle and the ship. What do you think?”

  She stared at me.

  I stepped closer.

  I couldn’t help myself. Maybe I still felt jittery and vulnerable, a little out of control from my panic attack, maybe that’s what was pushing me to do this, but I moved my hands to her neck and my lips to hers. I kissed her. I touched her face. I breathed in her air. I pressed close to her body.

  She kissed me back—hard. Hard enough that I knew with even more certainty that Meat Head Finn guy wasn’t with her.

  She didn’t fight me. She didn’t try to act like she didn’t want it either. She simply let go right along with me. It was the nicest thing I’d felt in weeks. A feeling so polar opposite to the o
ne I’d just experienced on the pavement.

  I broke away first.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “I got black stuff on your face.” It had been on my hands from when I’d touched my car’s tire trying to stand.

  She was damn adorable. She had her pale pink hair pulled back in a ponytail, all these small pieces falling loose around her face. She wore a white t-shirt, tight over her tits. And I loved the way she looked at me. Like I fucking ruled the world. Too bad Emma never once looked at me like that. Thinking about Emma pissed me off. Thinking about the effect she still had on my life bothered me. I wanted to see Amanda again, I decided. I wanted inside her again. Because she’d been a pretty great distraction the night we’d been together. If I had to be back here in North Carolina, I was going to need a distraction like her.

  “I’ll call the shop and set up an appointment with you for more work on my tattoo,” I told her, moving closer to my car. “You good with that?”

  “That works.”

  Fuck, I couldn’t just get in my car and go. I stepped back to her for one more kiss. I took it from her, getting just one more taste, before I got back in the car.

  I watched her for a second as she stepped away and hurried back inside Kill Devil Ink.

  “Wow,” Lou whispered. “That was weird watching you kiss her. You and Misty Preston used to make out in the library sometimes, so I’ve seen you kiss girls before. But that was weirdly innocent on your part.”

  “You used to spy on me and Misty Preston?!” My mouth dropped open.

  “Hey, don’t feel too special, I spied on everyone in the library. I didn’t give you special preference.”

  That was a little creepy. Coming from someone else I would have been weirded out. But Lou was too much of a sweetheart to weird anyone out. “What do you mean ‘weirdly innocent?’”

  “You were gentler with her. I don’t know. Careful with her. You savored her kiss. With Misty you used to kiss her like you were in a race or something.”

  Misty was a girlfriend I barely even liked. I went out with her, like most of the girls I dated in high school, because that was what everyone did at my high school. They dated. They made out in libraries between study sessions. They touched each other under the table, between bookshelves, in the backseat of their cars. I hope Lou didn’t see me do everything I’d done back then.

  “I like Amanda,” I explained to Lou. “That’s the difference you just saw.”

  “Oh. Okay. I get it.”

  She didn’t get it at all. Lou had only ever viewed the world through a looking glass. Last night, I had to teach her how to use the TV remote. She’d read every book under the sun, but Netflix was a whole new concept for her. “Alright. Let’s go home now. I think that’s enough excitement for one day.”

  ~ CHAPTER 14 ~

  AMANDA

  I touched my fingers to my lips.

  He kissed me. I couldn’t believe he kissed me again.

  So easily too. About two milliseconds after he left, I decided I needed to stop him and tell him that I was pregnant, in case I never got another chance. I would just blurt it out—get the words out into the world. He deserved to know I was having his kid. It was the right thing to do. The honest thing to do. Whatever he thought of me, even if the news made him cringe or scream or hug me—I just had to do it. I had to say the words.

  And then, I hadn’t said anything at all.

  When I saw him, he was crouched on the pavement in the shade of his car. The parking lot was calm and quiet. The woman in the hoodie was already inside the car. Nick had his head between his legs. His breathing was rapid and his hands, squeezing the fabric of his knit hat, were trembling. I initially thought he was about to vomit on the pavement. I couldn’t decide if I should go up to him or turn around and go back inside, giving him his privacy.

  I couldn’t walk away, though. My feet were stuck. I watched him for a moment. This wasn’t a person throwing up. This was something else, possibly a panic attack. I wasn’t sure since I’d never had a panic attack myself nor seen anyone having one, other than on television.

  He calmed quickly. It took only a minute or so before he stood up. He saw me. We had a conversation during which he pretended that whatever had just happened to him hadn’t happened at all. I wondered for a moment if I’d imagined the whole thing, reading into things too much.

  Then suddenly, after a few words about Finn, he kissed me. I felt so much in that kiss. I felt this fear in my chest for him, concern over whatever I’d just witnessed happening to him. I also felt his pain. I don’t how or why, or what had just happened to him, but whatever it was it came through in the way he kissed me. All calm and slow and careful. Almost like a cry for someone to help ease that pain. It wasn’t like all the kisses we’d shared that first night. Those kisses were pure lust and desire. This wasn’t the same.

  I didn’t tell him about the baby. The timing didn’t feel right. He said he wanted to add to his tattoo. Maybe he really wanted more ink. Or maybe he wanted an excuse to see me again. Either way, I walked away on a high. I couldn’t stop smiling.

  “What happened?” Finn wanted to know the very second I walked back in through the door. Patrick stared at me too, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Finn.

  “Nothing.”

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “I’m not.”

  I was and I couldn’t stop.

  That giddy feeling stuck with me the rest of the day. Made me feel hopeful.

  It faded by Thursday, though, when no one named Nick had called the shop to set up an appointment. By the weekend, I felt stupid all over again. What was with this guy and his control over me? I didn’t like it. I didn’t like waiting all week on him.

  It was Sunday night. Someone named Lou had an appointment booked with me late in the day. Apparently, another person wanting one of my sketch designs. I was waiting for this appointment, when Nick stepped into my station.

  I caught my breath.

  He meandered in like we knew each other well, and he sat in the extra chair I had beside my desk. It wasn’t a great day for me today. I’d thrown up three times already. Just looking at food was making me queasy. I was more exhausted than ever. But having him so close, having him almost sit at my desk with me, was like a shot of adrenaline.

  He unfolded a piece of computer paper and flattened it on my desk. It was a picture of his tattoo, the one straight off his butt. “I thought this might help you. As far as drawing on it and adding to the tattoo I already have. I don’t have any ideas. I thought you might know what’s supposed to go next.”

  “Did you xerox your butt?” I joked.

  He smiled—a smile that touched his eyes. “You’re funny.” His eyes connected with mine, and his attention did crazy things to my chest.

  “I have an appointment with someone named Lou,” I whispered. “You can’t be here now.”

  “I’m Lou. I mean, my friend is Lou. She made the appointment. I let her call for me. Although, she was supposed to make the appointment in my name, not her own. Sorry about that. So you didn’t know I was coming?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  He hadn’t? I touched his piece of paper. “This is 2D, your ass is 3D.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I mean, can I just draw straight on your skin instead?”

  He sat back in his chair. “Oh, sure.”

  “I’m not too experienced with free-styling on skin though. Maybe I should get John and get his opinion.”

  “I don’t want John’s opinion. Fuck his opinion. I didn’t come in here for his design on my skin. I came in here for yours.”

  He moved to stand up, apprehension be damned, and he unbuttoned his pants before plopping himself, stomach first, onto my chair. He inched his pants down just enough so I could see his left butt cheek. His previous ink was right there where I’d put it. He had a nice ass. If I turned his current design into one that fully covere
d his whole left cheek...

  Fuck, it would look nice.

  Not that his ass didn’t already look nice. But yeah, I pictured the possibility. And it was sexy as hell.

  “I have this idea.”

  “Go for it. I didn’t know how much I’d love the sails on the turtle until you put them there. I know whatever’s in your head is going to be awesome.”

  He did? How did he know that?

  I didn’t have that same confidence in myself. I took an alcohol wipe and began using it to sterilize his skin. I had my red pen out, the one for temporary drawing, and began sketching. All these ideas quickly started swirling in my head. I let them take over. It wasn’t about ‘what should I do,’ it became ‘what shouldn’t I do.’ I drew an ocean around his turtle in the form of lines and angles. A horizon, the sun as a compass pointing north. I had clouds and sky and the legs of an octopus reaching out of the water for his turtle.

  Nick’s eyes were on me while I drew my design. “Is that your dad?” he asked at one point. He meant the picture on my desk, the only picture I had on my desk, the one of me and Dad at the Nags Head Fishing Pier. His favorite place. And my favorite person.

  “Yes.”

  “Is he a fisherman?”

  “Not in the sense that he had a boat and that it was his career. He just liked to fish off that pier almost every day of the year. Couldn’t keep him from it.” I don’t know if it was my pregnancy hormones taking over or what, but speaking about Dad with Nick got to me. Dad would never get to meet my baby. Tears burned behind my eyes. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, fighting them off so he wouldn’t notice how hard his question hit.