Heather
She knew she shouldn’t but she toyed with the idea of following up on Rone after his sitting. Heather forced herself not to pick up the phone and call, even if she was calling from work. It wouldn’t look right. For two days she battled with herself until finally, Friday at six, when she knew Rone would be off work and probably would answer his cell, she lost the war.
Her hand shook and her stomach sloshed around, doing cartwheels as anxiety took hold. No amount of apprehension would stop her from dialing his number. She’d already gone over every scenario in her head, every excuse as to why she shouldn’t call him. If he wanted to talk to her, he would. Not that he knew her number though, and walking into her workplace was probably too intimidating and unacceptable in his mind. So maybe, just maybe, he was leaving it up to her to reach out.
After an entire lifetime of not truly allowing herself to feel, she figured taking one chance wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like the whole afternoon in his pool didn’t exist either. Whatever happened that day felt cut off, like they had unfinished business. Whatever was between them, she wasn’t content to just let it lie anymore.
Heather used the work phone. She dialed Rone’s number and waited. It rang. Once, twice, three times, four. She was about to hang up when his deep voice came over the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hey, this is Heather.” She winced at her own obviousness. “I was just calling to see how the tattoo is healing.”
The line was silent for a long time. If it wasn’t for the fact that she could still hear him breathing, she might have thought that he’d hung up. “Do you call your other clients to follow up on them?”
“Uh….” Shit. She hadn’t expected Rone to actually call her bluff. “Sometimes I do. We like to make sure everything is going okay, especially when it’s your first time.” That sounded wrong, even to her own ears and she winced. She felt the terrible creeping start of a blush spreading over her cheekbones, heating her face uncomfortably. She’d waited to call until everyone was with their clients so there was no one else around the shop to see or hear her at the moment. Thank goodness for small mercies.
“In that case,” Rone said, his tone underscored with dry humor, “I guess I’ll say that it’s healing well.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“But on the other hand, I guess I’m just taking my own word for it. I can’t actually see it. It feels fine though. Aches sometimes. Stings. Hurts to sleep on. Keeps me up at night.”
Silence stretched over the phone line. She could still hear Rone breathing. His words bounced through her brain. Keeps me up at night. She couldn’t help but wonder what else kept him awake. Thoughts of her? Seriously? I need to get real.
“You could… come over and check it out for yourself. Make sure everything looks fine. I wouldn’t even be able to see if it was infected.”
“Have you been washing it every day?”
“In the shower.”
Heather’s heart started to slam double time against her ribs. Lord, the thought of Rone in the shower, slick and wet, made her achy all over. An embarrassing rush of wetness gathered at the juncture of her thighs and she squeezed them together under the desk, glad she was wearing leggings and not a dress or a skirt. She silently cursed herself for ever having phoned him from work.
“Well- it should- should be fine,” Heather stammered. Her mouth felt like it was suddenly stuffed full of cotton balls.
“So you don’t want to come over?”
“I…”
“That wasn’t what this call was about?”
Face definitely on fire, Heather resisted the urge to slam down the phone. “Like I said, I was just checking up. I do this. It’s part of my job.” She wasn’t exactly lying. She’d followed up with other clients over the years. Clients who hadn’t sat well or who they thought might not take such good care of their tattoos or be confused about the healing process seeing as it was their first time.
She couldn’t force out another word. She wanted to lie, to tell him that it was the only reason she was calling, but she couldn’t. They both knew it wasn’t.
“Tell you what. I’m going to be out going for a drive later. Maybe you can do me a favor and take a look at it, just to make sure it’s good to go. Or just to put some lotion on it. It’s drying out and it’s getting itchy and I can’t reach most of it myself. I could stop by your place. Just for half an hour or so.”
“Er- my place is- uh- not that nice.” Was it possible for her face to get any hotter?
“Doesn’t matter one way or another to me.”
“Maybe I could offer you a beer. I have some in my fridge. They’ve been in there forever and I swear they’re going to expire soon.”
“A beer would be nice. It was a long day. Hot out.”
“Yes. It was hot.” Great. So now they were done to talking about the weather. She absolutely hated when people talked about the heat. They lived in Miami for goodness sake.
“I’ll be over then. What time do you get off work?”
“An hour. I have to walk home though.”
“I could pick you up.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? I can wait down the block. No one would have to know that you’re getting a ride home from the loser who passed out in the chair the other day.”
Heather had to laugh at Rone’s depreciating tone. Was there anything funnier or sweeter than a man who could poke fun at himself? His sense of humor always had been dry, sometimes crass, but she loved that about him. She loved the fact that he could always make her laugh. Even their mom often thought Rone was hilarious. That was saying a lot for Leanne.
“Alright.” She sighed into the phone, just to be sure he heard it. “I guess you can pick me up. Wait over on twenty-third. There is a pizza place that you can park in front of, so I know where to find you.”
“Copy. Over and out.”
“Dork.” Heather wasn’t sure if he heard her or not. The phone clicked and the line went dead. By the time she hung up the receiver, the nervous energy that had plagued her since she’d last seen Rone was already starting up. The anticipation of being near him again was almost more than she could bear.
She didn’t want to be completely useless so she stood and busied herself cleaning up the reception and front area for the rest of her shift. She gathered up her backpack, her laptop, her phone and her purse after she was off. She called a goodbye down the hall that both Kian and Mike echoed back. They were both going to be done with their clients shortly, but usually Kian locked up. It was rare that she had to do it. Everyone seemed to far prefer that she open ahead of them in the morning. By the time they walked in, the lights were on, things were up and running and there was coffee in the staff lounge.
She only had to walk a few blocks, but they seemed endless. Her excitement grew, to the point where she felt like there was a swarm of butterflies caught in her throat. Her stomach was doing great big leaps and when she spotted Rone sitting in his lifted black truck, her heart really started thumping against her ribs. Her hands grew clammy and when she opened the passenger door she was shocked they didn’t leave a wet print behind.
The door was heavy and closed behind her with a solid bang. Suddenly shy, she glanced over at Rone, who, as always, looked utterly amazing. His face obviously hadn’t seen a razor for a couple days and that was just fine with her. She liked the fresh growth of a dark black beard that he was sporting. Dark eyes burned into her, but when he smiled, it was warm and charming. Though he hadn’t shaved his beard, his head gleamed, like it had recently had a date with a razor. She liked that about Rone. His shaved scalp really brought out his other features. Even though he was a guy, it was safe to say his eyes were soft and that they sparkled. No one could accuse any of his other features of being soft. He was carved entirely of iron and that t-shirt he had on was doing its level best not to rip off his massive frame. His jeans were stained and dirty, like he’d truly just left work, but she liked that too.
Best of all, he still smelled like the shop. Heather knew most women liked their men to be clean and smell like cologne or aftershave or something manufactured. It wasn’t that she hated that, but she certainly enjoyed the raw smell of man that much more. She liked the subtle scent of welding fumes and shop grease, or whatever the heck was always ingrained in the cracks of Rone’s hands. She didn’t like overpowering BO or anything, but a man who smelled like he made an honest living was just fine with her. She was also entirely aware that if she ever uttered those thoughts out loud, people would think she was pretty damn disgusting.
“Where to my lady? I would say your chariot awaits, but you’re already in it.”
Heather giggled. “God, Rone, you always know what to say to make everything just right, don’t you?” She turned to him and was amazed to see color rising up on his cheeks. She realized that she’d embarrassed him, which was just perfect, since she felt completely flustered in turn.
“I suppose if you think that, I’d be happy to let you believe it,” he finally said. He offered her a small smile. “Are you going to give me your address or should I just drive us to the edge of the city and you can check my back from the box of the truck?”
Heather’s insides turned into a melted mess. “As tempting as that is, I don’t think rusty truck box metal would be the best thing for the open wound on your back right now.”
“Wouldn’t that imply that I’d have to lay down in the truck box with a shirt off? Now why would I do that?” Her blush was back and in a big way. Rone laughed softly to himself as he put the truck in gear. “I’m just kidding. Address?”
She finally had the presence of mind to give it to him, before she could say anything else that would embarrass herself further. She fell silent for the drive, which didn’t take very long. The city flashed by out the window. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had picked her up from work. Sometimes, if it was raining, she took the bus, but not usually.
“This is?” Rone asked as they rolled up in front of the squat brick building that was her home. It was ugly, with graffiti on the side, crumbling bricks here and there, a lawn that was virtually all weeds and various flags in the windows. The garbage dumpsters overflowed from the parking lot, which was visible from the road and on the front of the building, the eaves were falling off.
“Yeah.” Heather squirmed. The last person she’d wanted to ever bring there was Rone.
“Nice. I like it.”
She glanced over to see if he was kidding or making fun of her again, but she could see by his face that he was perfectly serious. He wasn’t bothered at all that she lived in a complete dump.
“The inside is nicer,” she said as he executed a perfect parallel park in front of the sidewalk that ran past the building.
“Believe me, I’ve seen a hell of a lot worse.” Rone killed the ignition. He held out a hand and glanced at her backpack. “Can I get that for you? It looks heavy.”
“No, I’m alright. I walk back and forth to work every day with it on my back.”
“It looks like you have bricks stuffed inside.”
“Nope. Just my laptop and a few things I need for work.”
“Well if you’re used to carrying it around, just let me look useless. What do they call that? Arm candy?”
Heather was so stunned for a minute that all she could do was stare at Rone. Finally she burst out laughing. “Arm candy. You’re ridiculous.”
“So everyone tells me.”
Rone got out of the truck and Heather was relieved he didn’t come around and open her door for her. That would have seemed a little too knight in shining armor, we’re on a date, I have big plans for you inside your place. Instead he let her get her own door. He did hold the glass apartment door open for her, after she’d unlocked it.
“I live on the third floor.”
“Good thing I enjoy stairs. Especially after a long, grueling day of work.”
Heather reached over and punched Rone in the bicep. He feigned injury before he followed her up all three sets of stairs and down the hall. He stood in front of her door, let her unlock it and push it open.
She felt, as he stepped through that door behind her, that suddenly her entire world had shifted. Everything in her universe was going to be different going forward. She just knew it, that neither of them were going to leave that apartment and be the same person again after that night.
“Here it is,” she whispered thickly. “Home sweet home.”