RYAN

Swinging open the front door of Tattered, I hear Evenge Sevenfold blaring through the speakers. Chris glances up from his workstation before turning his attention back to what he’s working on.

Andi is seated in the office chair, reclined back with her feet up on the desk with a magazine in her hand. Distracted by the music, she doesn’t seem to pay attention to me or maybe she’s so out of it she doesn’t even hear the doorbell.

“Excuse me!” I shout over the music. That must be the wakeup call she needs as it forces her into action, setting her feet on the floor and pressing her hand against her chest.

“Holy hell!” she shouts back before holding the remote up to the stereo, bringing the volume down to a more manageable level.

“You going to get up and actually do some work around here?”

“I’m sorry, I was taking a break.”

The foot traffic in and out of the shop is very rarely slow. We are one of the leading tattoo shops in the area, which is saying a lot considering the size of Des Moines. Growing up in Everton, it was nice having a small town feel not too far away from the big city. It made it an easy decision when we were deciding where to open our shop, knowing having it here would be the best place to bring in new customers.

“Break is up. I can think of a hundred things that you could be doing that are not putting your feet up on my fucking desk. If you want a break, go get a coffee, then come back and get to it.”

I add that on the end to make it less angry because despite how annoyed I was coming in to see her like that, I’m actually in a good mood.

I spend the next twenty minutes going through my schedule for the upcoming week. Maverick will be leaving soon and the best way for me to keep my mind off him leaving is by keeping occupied.

I haven’t spoken to Maverick in a week since our fight. After I stormed out of the hotel room, I swore to myself I wasn’t going to put myself through the heartbreak of reaching out to him. He was the one who was in the wrong here, not me.

Truth be told, I had every expectation of never hearing from him again.  That didn’t stop me from driving by the hotel every morning on my way to get coffee.  It was pointless really; I could’ve walked to the coffee shop.  I knew what I was doing though.

I wanted to see if he had left town yet. I’ve spent every minute since I left preparing myself for it to happen. It wouldn’t be the first time he walked away without giving me much of an explanation.

The weight I felt lift off my chest when I saw his dad’s pickup parked in the hotel parking lot felt like a ten-ton boulder being released from my chest. He hasn’t been driving it; I’m not sure if it’s because it was his dad’s and the resentment he holds toward him, or if being in the pickup brings back memories of us.

I know he was dead set on selling it before he left town and I didn’t think he’d leave without doing so just because we got into an argument. I even called the hotel to see if he had checked out and they confirmed he still had reservations. I could’ve easily found out his plans if I called Dean and asked, but I was forcing myself to move on from Maverick. Or at least that’s what I was telling myself I’ve been doing.

After picking up my coffee, I went back to my place and grabbed my notebook.  I was going to sit at my desk and do some sketching.  It was something I often did when I had a lot on my mind. Feeling more awake, I snagged my board from where it sat against the wall.  Sticking my notebook and pencils into my backpack, I take off with no real destination in mind.

I needed some fresh air and I knew wherever I ended up would leave me inspired.

The feeling of the warm breeze against my face and the sunlight beating down heated my skin. I was dressed in a black tank top and a pair of skinny jeans, topped off with my signature snapback. My sun-kissed skin still looked bronze from my trip out to California and I promised myself to try and keep the warm glow through the rest of the summer.

The sound of the wheels beat against the cracks on the concrete, using my right foot to help pick up speed. I wasn’t planning on coming down here when I left, but the closer I got to the water, the slower I went.

I’ve continued to come down by the river, the place where Maverick and I spent my birthday together, over the years.  Although, now that I think about it, it’s been a few months since I’ve been down here. It was just after the cooler weather started to warm up and I found myself anxious to claim my board again.

Using my foot to press down on the back of the worn wood, I skid to a stop in front of the dock. There is a park down by the Cedar River with picnic tables and trails, winding around the edge of the water. Setting my board on the grass underneath an old oak tree, I lean against the tree and slide my bag between my feet. 

Reaching inside, I pull out my notebook and start flipping through the pages of drawings I’ve kept over the years. I never got rid of the notebook Maverick gave me. I only pulled it out when I found that the memories got to me too much.

Stopping on one of the pages, I let my finger trace over the word ‘rebel’ etched on the page. Flipping to the next, I look at the heart I had drawn as a sketch of the tattoo that now lives on my skin. The heart looked a lot like the one Maverick had asked about on our first night alone together. Only now, the heart in this picture looks every bit of the one I felt beating in my chest after he left.

Looking back now, I was so young and naïve to think that I could so blindly open myself up to him and share parts of me I hadn’t even told my best friend. He may have been Dean’s best friend, but Maverick was still a stranger to me on the outside. I had given my heart to a stranger and even after all these years, I feel like I still haven’t got it back.

I was so willing to give myself to him that I left myself unprotected. In doing so, he took my heart and left it torn and tattered, barely beating. I remember when I drew this tattoo, I promised myself I wouldn’t be so reckless with it again. I would guard myself and remember what it felt like to barely get by every day.

My fingers run along his initials, which I hid in the shading of the tattoo. When Chris transferred the sketch to ink, I asked him to make sure that he kept them there. Looking at a glance, you’d likely never even notice them, but I knew they were there and that was all that mattered to me.

I had let my mind drift off, remembering all those emotions I felt when I was drawing, that I never even heard the pickup pull up in the parking area not too far from where I was sitting. I certainly never heard Maverick get out of the truck and walk up to me, peering over me as the memories crash over me in waves.

“You okay?”  The sound of his voice coming out is more of a grumble taking me off guard.

Flipping the notebook shut, I hold it against my chest and peek up at him.  The sunlight behind him makes it difficult to see.  He steps closer, using his body to shield the light from my eyes.

“Yeah. What are you doing here?”

“I was driving down to meet up with Graham and saw you on your skateboard,” he stops, looking out onto the water as if he’s lost in thought before his eyes drag back down to mine. “When I saw you stop here, I waited, not sure if I should approach you. But then you took out your notebook and I couldn’t help myself. Can I see?”

His hand reaches out, pointing to the notebook now pressed against my chest. My heart rate picks up and my palms turn sweaty as I glance down, not sure what to say or how to respond.

I think he senses my hesitation, dropping his hand to his side. My eyes dart to his.  His jaw is set, making his expression unreadable.

“I’m not sure you deserve the right anymore,” I croak.

My words hit him like a punch to the gut. Running his palm over his jaw, his eyes focus on the ground.

“I guess you’re right,” he says, looking up at me.

I almost regret my words when I see the hurt on his face.

“Listen, about the other night, I know I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking—”

Holding my hand up, I stop him. “Maverick, I don’t think we owe each other an explanation anymore. I mean, you said it, you had no intentions of moving back to Everton. Your focus is on your job, I get that, because right now that’s where mine is, too. Let’s just leave this at what it is, a really great week with two friends who were catching up.”

His nostrils flare at the mention of us being friends and I can’t help but feel the same. Calling what is between us friendship is bullshit. There isn’t a bone in my body that wants to be friends with Maverick, but I know that I love and care about him enough that if that’s the only capacity I can have him, I’m willing to accept him.

The growl that emanates from deep within his chest has my head jolting up toward him as he falls to his knees down in front of me.

“You didn’t let me finish and I’ll be damned if you think that’s what I want. I may not have had intentions of moving back to Everton, but it doesn’t mean I never planned to come back for you.”

Reaching his hands out, he runs them down my forearms toward mine.  Letting the notebook fall back into my lap, I look up at him. He’s struggling with what he’s about to say but I don’t stop him.

“After you left, I got a call.” He stops, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out a stuttered breath. He’s on the verge of tears and this is a side of Maverick I’ve never seen.

“When I found out my dad died, I left my platoon early. My sergeant told me they were only expecting it to be a few more days before they would be coming home. Otherwise, I would’ve had my dad’s funeral sooner and left to head back out with them. Anyway, the call I got was from my sergeant. I guess some of the guys were on surveillance duty when the Humvee they were riding in hit a roadside bomb. Two of them didn’t make it and the other two are in critical care.  I don’t know—” he pauses, squeezing his eyes shut again not wanting to voice the words out loud.

Setting my notebook down, I move to climb onto his lap and I’m grateful he lets me.  Wrapping my arms around him, I press my lips against his neck and send up a silent prayer of thanks. I know the reality of the situation because I’ve spent many nights lying awake at night thinking about getting the same news. The one saying something happened to him and he wouldn’t be making it home, at least not alive.

I feel Maverick’s body shake as the sobs rack through his body and my heart breaks for him. He’s felt so much loss in his life, it’s no wonder he struggles to let anyone close to him.

His arms wrap around my lower back, rubbing his fingers along the skin beneath my tank top. There is so much I want to say to him in that moment. I want him to know that I’m here for him, that I’m not going anywhere. There is another part of me that realizes that his dad dying saved his life, because he would’ve been there and the way he’s feeling now, could’ve been me.

“I need you to know I’m sorry,” he mutters, his words coming out broken.

“We don’t have to talk about that—” I say.

“No. We do,” he interrupts, stopping me as my eyes meet his. “I have been thinking this week, especially about my friends’ wives who are grieving the loss of their husbands. I want you to know I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you go. I know how you felt when I left you because watching you go, I couldn’t do it. All of this has just reminded me that I can’t take us for granted. I love you; I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen years old and you flew past me on your skateboard nearly knocking me on my ass. I don’t care where I go or what I do because being with you is what will make me happy. I can live anywhere in this world because as long as I’m with you, I’m home.”

Tears fill my eyes. I bite down on my lower lip, struggling to keep my emotions in check. I’ve spent so many nights lying awake missing him. My heart and body have ached to have him with me, to hear those words pass his lips.

“It’s not my fault. You were the one who got in my way. You were following me around, even then.”

A grin breaks out across his face. I can’t help it. My heart warms as a curve lines my mouth, matching his.

Wrapping my hand around his neck, I run my thumb along the edge of his jaw.  “I love you, too. I promise there is no one who will ever love you like I do.”

“Well, that’s good, because I don’t want anyone but you.”

I scoff, laughing. “You better fucking not,” I murmur as my lips crash down on his. His arms wrap around me tight, holding me close to him.