Hailey

The June breeze off the ocean fluttered my hair as I waited on my couch. The window was open, and I could smell the ocean breeze coming through the screen, relaxing my bones as I fidgeted on the cushions. Bryan was picking me up any second for our date tonight, and I had to say, I was incredibly nervous. Even though this was to repay him for all he’d done for me thus far, I was nervous about what he’d think of me.

What I looked like now that I’d dyed my hair pink.

I decided to play it down for the dinner. I put on a brown and turquoise skirt that had swirling designs on it. I slipped into a pair of my brown flip-flops and opted for a slightly tighter shirt that fell barely off one of my shoulders. I didn’t want it to look like I was preparing for some sort of fancy date, but I would’ve been lying if I said I didn’t want to stun him somehow. He was a beautiful man, and even I could see that. I’d kept my eyes off men for years, wanting to focus on my art and not have dating disturb the community outreach I was doing.

My hands began to tremble in my lap as the wind kicked up outside.

A storm was beginning to roll in, and I wasn’t sure what that would do to the project. I got up and shut the window, feeling a chill shiver down my spine. I grabbed one of my tie-dyed wraps from my room, throwing it over my shoulders as the thunder began to roll in the distance. It was nights like this where curling up with my canvas was the only thing I could think to do because of the inspiration storms like this brought on.

But a knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts, and I sprang to answer the door.

I opened up and immediately Bryan’s eyes flew to my hair. I could see the shock in his eyes. They danced around my hair before his dark eyes slowly came down to meet my gaze, and I couldn’t help but smirk at how off-guard he had been caught.

“I never can stay with one color for too long,” I said. “It usually changes to reflect my mood, but sometimes I get restless and just need a change to keep me on my toes.”

He didn’t say a word, but the smile that crossed his face told me he enjoyed my explanation. I took a second to study him as his eyes drifted along my outfit. He wasn’t dressed to the nines or in some sort of suit, but he did have on this beautiful cologne. I had to make sure I wasn’t breathing in too deeply. I didn’t want him to think I was some sort of creep or anything. It had this fresh cotton smell before the musky wood scent hit you.

It suited him perfectly, especially in the tight shirt he was wearing that gripped his arms in the dip of his biceps.

“So, I was thinking Korean barbecue,” I said.

“I’ve never had it,” he said.

“Ah, so he does speak,” I said, winking. “Thought the hair was a bit too much of a shock.”

“I actually like it. Just takes a bit of getting used to. Like when you pick up a Pepsi can but are expecting lemonade.”

“Yuck. I take it that’s happened from experience?” I asked.

“Yep. And it was yuck.”

I giggled as I stepped out of the house. The wind had really kicked up, almost knocking me off my feet. Without thinking, Bryan shot his arm out and caught me, his muscles clenching against my stomach as he helped me steady myself onto my feet. The warmth of his skin filled my gut with a carnal sensation, one that trickled behind my pelvis and spurred a moment where I imagined his lips against mine.

“Let’s get into my truck, and we can figure it out from there,” he said. “The storm’s going to get pretty bad.”

“You think the gallery will be all right?” I asked.

“Yep. When I saw the weather, I sent some guys out there to cover it up and drive nails into the tarps to make sure everything stayed dry and didn’t move. It’ll be fine. You’ve got my word.”

We got into his truck as the rain started pouring. I told him to head toward my gallery, telling him the Korean barbecue place was past it about a mile down the road. Part of me wanted to make sure the gallery was all right. Not that I didn’t trust him. It was just that this storm was really kicking up, and if there was anything I could do to keep the project from stalling, I wanted to make sure I could get it done.

But as we rode by the gallery, I saw he was right. Tarps were covering everything from the equipment to the building itself.

“Feel better?” he asked, grinning.

“Shut up.”

“And here I thought you meant it when you said you trusted me.”

“I do! I do. It’s just ...”

“It’s your baby. I understand perfectly. Only giving you a hard time,” he said.

“I can’t believe you’ve never had Korean barbecue. Ever had something called bulgogi?”

“I have had bulgogi, yes.”

“That’s the most popular type of Korean barbecue,” I said.

“Well, then I’m looking forward to dinner. I’ve only had it once, but it was really good.”

“And here I thought you were looking forward to it because I was around,” I said.

“Figured that was a given.”

I whipped my gaze over to him as we pulled into the restaurant. I studied the side of his face, trying to see if he was making a joke and trying to see if that playful little smirk of his would pull at the corners of his cheeks.

But it didn’t.

He was completely serious.

“Ready to brave the rain?” he asked.

“One. Two.”

We both threw our doors open and ran to the restaurant. I had my wrap over my head, trying to make sure my newly-dyed hair didn’t get too wet. Bryan splashed in puddles, soaking the bottoms of his jeans as we leaped for the porch. We turned back out and looked at the sheets of rain coming down, laughing to ourselves as we both shook our heads.

“Is there any dye running down my neck?” I asked.

I felt his gaze heatedly on the back of my skin. Before I knew what was happening, his finger had hooked into the wide neck of my shirt, his fingernail grazing my skin as I jumped.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded, hoping he wouldn’t see the goosebumps working their way up my back.

“I don’t see any dye dripping anywhere,” he said.

“Good. Thanks.”

Both of us were silent until we were sat at our tables. We ordered our drinks and placed our food orders, opting for a massive plate of sharable bulgogi on a bed of white rice. The rain slammed against the windows as the thunder shook the walls of the restaurant, and I didn’t even realize my eyes were gazing out in the direction of my art gallery.

“If you’re so worried about it, I could price out what it would take to weatherproof the entire thing. You know, like that storage unit you’ve got.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be so preoccupied with it. You guys have put a lot of hard work into it, and I’ve got all those paintings in that storage unit.”

“Trust me,” he said as he laid his hand on mine, “that storage unit you’ve got out back is a treasure. You could blow a tornado over that thing, and it would still be standing. Your artwork’s fine in there.”

I was painfully aware of how wonderful his hand felt on top of mine. Just as quickly as it had happened, the moment was gone, and I suddenly felt naked without his touch. Three times in the span of fifteen minutes, I’d felt some part of his body against mine, and I was having a hard time concentrating on anything else but his body. How his shirt clung to his muscles and how his broad shoulders tapered into a slim, toned pair of hips.

“Have you always loved art?” he asked.

“Oh, gosh, yes. Ever since I was a little kid. My mother probably has pictures somewhere of the artwork I used to draw on the walls. She would always say they weren’t your average doodles,” I said, giggling.

“So, you’re close with your family?”

I felt a lump catch in my throat before I drew in a deep breath.

“Actually, no. I’ve been estranged from them ever since I dropped out of medical school.”

“You. Medical school. I don’t see it.”

“Neither did I, but I was supposed to be the doctor like my father, and my sister, Anna, was supposed to be like my mother, the lawyer.”

“Is this the sister that—?”

“Invested? Yep. I’ve only got one sibling.”

“Did she grow up to become a lawyer?” he asked.

“She did. And she’s a fabulous one. She’s the one who’s been coaching me through all the legal stuff regarding the business. But I know her passion’s in music.”

“What instrument does she play?”

“Oh, she doesn’t. But you should hear her sing opera. The woman’s got a voice that could fill a canyon.”

“I bet it’s beautiful,” he said.

“It is, and it’s wasting away while she works a career she hates. I can’t get her to step out like I did. Of course, she’s got a wonderful relationship with our parents. But they couldn’t embrace the fact that I dumped medical school to focus on my art.”

“Couldn’t they have compromised? An art education instead of medical school?” he asked.

“That’s assuming my parents understood what the word meant,” I said. “Either way, Anna supports me fully, and that means the world. She’s coming to see me over the fourth of July. I’m looking forward to it.”

“That sounds like it’ll be fun. Will she come by the site?” he asked.

“Probably. She’s excited to see the progress. I try to send pictures to her, but she always says it’s never quite like being there.”

I could tell Bryan was tensing up, and I wasn’t sure what was going on. His shoulders were rolled back, and his hands were now in his lap. His eyes were focused out the window instead of on me, and even though I knew he was listening, there was something else going on.

“Look, I’m really sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable with all this. The dye thing, I just wanted to make-”

“No, no. I’m sorry. I just ... I don’t really get along with my parents either, so I can sympathize.”

“Oh. I drudged up bad memories. I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I get it, is all. Makes it easier to choose friends over family.”

“Yeah. It does. That way you can build the family you want instead of being stuck with the family you got,” I said.

“My friends throw better parties than they do, anyway. I’m actually allowed to drink something other than wine at them,” he said, grinning.

“And my friends don’t expect me to dress in some decadent fabric and walk around in heels. The one time I wore heels, I twisted my ankle so badly, I popped one of my ligaments.”

“You popped it?”

“Yep. Right off the top of my foot. Like a spring. Just boing!”

The two of us laughed as our food was set in front of us. It smelled delightful, and we both scooped heaping portions onto our plates. For a little while, things were silent while the storm continued to rage, and the lightning cast sharp shadows on Bryan’s face that I simply couldn’t take my eyes off of.

The searing image of his dark eyes flickering up at me just as the lightning flashed outside was one I’d have to draw to release from the confines of my mind.

“You know, I’ve been inspired a bit by working on your gallery.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, I sat down a few nights ago and drew something other than a blueprint.”

“Bryan, that’s awesome. What did you draw? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind. I drew this geometric design. It starts as a square in the middle and slowly spirals out to the edges of the paper.”

“You seem to have a fascination with those. Could I see it sometime?” I asked.

“Sure. If I can remember to bring it by the site, I will.”

I was absolutely delighted. The idea of inspiring someone already with my art and the gallery told me I was doing the right thing, that despite the rocky road with my parents and all it took to get here, I’d made the right decision with my life.

I was so thrilled, my cheeks were beginning to ache with my smiling.

“So, you keep saying blueprints. I think you mentioned something when we first met about architecture?” I asked.

“Yep. It’s what I studied in trade school. I’m much more focused on the construction end of things right now than the architecture of it. Most of the residential homes we build are cookie-cutter style homes, so I draw three basic layouts for each massive project and that’s about it.”

“Well, that’s some artistic expression at least,” I said.

“Yeah but not like drawing and shading. That taps into another part of me that I don’t get to express often.”

“Well, I for one am glad you’re expressing it now and that you’re sharing it with me. It makes me happy. More than you’ll ever know.”

His eyes shot up to me, and I couldn’t help losing myself in them. The smile that crossed his face twinkled the small speckles of hazel I’d just discovered in his eye color. There wasn’t a thing about him that wasn’t beautiful, that wasn’t somehow tragic and yet full of life. He was the perfect canvas and the perfect subject.

I wanted to draw all of him.

He was the type of subject you could use for an entire gallery opening. An artist could fill the walls and line entire buildings with photographs and pictures of him. Every angle, every color, every contrast, and every emotion screamed and clawed its way toward a canvas.

It was like his presence was meant to be someone’s muse.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

It wasn’t until his voice ripped through my mind that I realized I was staring at his geometric tattoo.

“Yes,” I said breathlessly. “Very much so. I’ve been enraptured with all your tattoos, actually. It’s a form of art I’ve never been able to express. Don’t have a steady enough hand to tattoo, nor do I have the ability to choose something and stick with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t even choose a hair color, Bryan. How am I supposed to choose a tattoo that I can just stick with for the rest of my life?” I asked.

“Good point. You could get a sleeve, but get it in stages,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, most people who have sleeves of tattoos didn’t go in with a sleeve in mind. They started with one image, then found another one they liked. They put that image alongside the original one, and it just morphs.”

“I’d run out of canvas. I’d end up covering every inch of my body in tattoos,” I said, laughing. “Could you imagine that? Me with a body full of tattoos?”

“You could change your hair color to match any tattoo you wanted,” he said, grinning.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Joke’s on me. Got it. Yeah, I’m way too indecisive for a tattoo. I actually really admire people who can get them. It means they made a decision and stuck to it. Do you do your own tattoos?”

“I design them, yeah.”

“I mean, do you give them to yourself?” I asked.

“Oh, no. I’m not that insane. My business partner has done all of them.”

“Sounds like artistic capabilities run in the family,” I said.

There was a moment where he locked up, where he got lost in his memories. I watched him dive back, probably into memories of his brother. I wanted to know more about their relationship and more about them. I wanted to share in the joys he had with his brother.

I wanted to hear more of his memories like the one he told at the bar that night.

“What do they all mean?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Your tattoos. What sparked them?” I asked.

“Well, this spiral one here was a random design I did when Drew and I were first beginning the company. It was sort of this morbid joke, like our lives were about to spiral into this endless abyss. We had no idea what we were doing, and we had no idea where we were going, and the design sort of flowed from that idea of jumping in with your eyes closed.”

“That’s incredible,” I said.

“And the geometric one is actually something I messed around with for a while. As an architect, I’ve always been captivated by the idea of hollow geometric shapes holding the weight they do. That load-bearing objects didn’t have to be these ugly, opaque eyesores. That tattoo was born out of that idea.”

I smiled at him as he continued to talk, completely entranced by the intensity of this man. Everything was so thought out and based on some sort of principle that meant something to him at the time. His tattoos painted the perfect picture of who he was as a man and what he prized more than anything else.

I wanted to run my fingertips across them just to feel his intensity seep into my bones.

“The rose with the piano petals is interesting, actually. It’s a way to commemorate the beauty of my parents, back when we had a better relationship.”

“How so?” I asked.

“My father has this tradition with my mother. Whenever she’s sick, he brings her tulips to fill her room. Whenever she’s upset, he brings her an orchid to make her smile. But when she’s sad, or depressed, or hurting somehow ...”

“He brings her roses,” I said.

“Nope. A rose. One single rose. He gives it to her, and he holds her while she picks the petals off it. Then, he gathers all the petals up and throws them into a bath.”

“He makes her a rose bath,” I said.

“He does. It’s the single most romantic thing I’ve ever seen him do for her, and he did it every single time she was upset, hurting, or down in the dumps.”

“What are the piano petals for, then?” she asked.

“My mother used to be an expert pianist until carpal tunnel did her in. She’d fill the house with beautiful music. It’s how they met.”

“Your parents.”

“Yep. They met at one of her concerts when she was in her twenties,” he said.

“That’s a hell of a story behind that tattoo,” I said.

“These aren’t all of them, though. I have a Phoenix on my chest whose wings stretch the width of it. Just a basic symbol of how I rose from the ashes of—”

He faltered, and I knew why. I wanted him to say it. I needed him to say it. I needed a way to open this discussion about his brother.

Maybe then it would be easier to tell him everything.

“Of what?” I asked.

“How I rose up from the ashes after I lost my brother,” he said.

“I’m so sorry, Bryan,” I said breathlessly.

“I’ve got one that’s just for him. On my lower back.”

I felt myself tense up as he mentioned it. The cabin tattoo I saw that day on the jobsite. He was going to talk about it.

“What’s it of?” I asked.

“It’s a picture he drew in high school of our family cabin. We kept asking our parents for a treehouse, and instead, they built us a family log cabin.”

“Well, that escalated quickly,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“My parents have always been that way. That tattoo was my first ever.”

“The cabin one?” I asked.

“Yep.”

That was all he said about the matter, and I didn’t push it any further. He’d mentioned his brother and that was enough for tonight. We talked back and forth over dinner, eating our fill and waiting out the storm. The rain began to back off and the thunder finally trickled back off into the distance, and all the while, I could feel Bryan’s intensity radiating out toward me.

Had I not been so willing to drown myself in it, it would’ve stifled me until I choked.