Chapter 5
Rayne
I hang up the phone with a smile on my face, but when I realize what I’m doing, I press my lips together. It’s okay for me to have a friend, right? Bryan would be okay with that. I already have Kenny and Brad, so what’s another male friend? I can do that. Some days, it’s hard for me to admit how lonely I am, but lately, it’s been getting worse.
Kennedy and Brad have been harping on me to get out there and live my life. To stop letting the past consume me so much that I don’t enjoy the present. They try to tell me I’m getting old, but I’m only twenty-two years old. I know they’re just saying that to get under my skin, so that I’ll give in and move on. It’s unbelievably difficult to do, though, when your future is so bleak and the life you dreamed of, or at least thought it was what you wanted, gets ripped from you.
When I take the last swallow of wine out of my glass, I get off the couch and make my way to the bathroom to take a shower. By the time I get out, the moon has risen. I leave my hair wet, put on a pair of pajamas, and climb into bed. My phone rings and Kennedy’s beaming smile illuminates the screen before I accept the call.
“Hey!”
“I’m sorry.” He squeaks.
“For what?”
“Giving Vaughn your number. Well, I didn’t, but Brad did, and I didn’t stop him.”
“It’s okay.” I sit up and walk to my window to look out at the small pond behind my house. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah, Rainey girl. I’m alone.” His sympathetic tone makes my eyes burn with unshed tears.
I take a deep breath and tell him what I’ve been afraid to say out loud. “I forgot what he looked like.”
“Oh, honey. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I was talking to Vaughn and kind of got lost in his eyes for a second, and I forgot Bryan’s eyes, his face. I’m a horrible person.”
“No, you’re not. You’re a human being, Rayne. It’s been two years. I understand that you loved him, but you can’t stop living because he’s not anymore.”
“He could be!” I yell. “They never found his body. He could still be out there somewhere, and I promised I’d wait for him.”
“He’s gone, Rainey. It’s okay to move on.”
“No, it’s not . . . I promised him. I promised, Kennedy. I never say something I don’t mean. Never.” Tears now flow freely from my eyes, and I grab a tissue from my nightstand to dry them.
“He wouldn’t want this for you. God, Rayne,” he shouts. “He wasn’t serious. He’d want you to be happy. Do you really think he’d want this for you?”
Kenny doesn’t know the real Bryan. He doesn’t know the things that went on between us. He doesn’t know. Nobody knows. “He didn’t want me to be with anyone else.” I want you to wait for me, Rayne. I don’t know how I’d survive if you weren’t here for me. I couldn’t live without you. I can’t live without you; you’re my whole life.
“And you’re thinking about being with Vaughn.”
“No,” I gasp. “No, I just. I umm . . .”
“You’re attracted to him.”
“He’s very attractive.”
“He is.” A purr comes out of his throat, and I can picture him winking at me.
“Eww. He’s going to be your family. That’s gross.” I laugh.
He chuckles too but quiets down after a second. “It’s really okay, Rayne. I promise you that it’s okay. Bryan’d want you to be happy.”
“I’m happy with the memories. I can live off those, right?”
“You know how much I love you . . . but honey, you were only with him for two years before he disappeared. That’s not enough memories to survive a lifetime on.”
“I want it to be.”
“It’s not.” He sighs.
“Vaughn and I agreed to just be friends,” I tell Kenny to convince him—and myself—that it’s platonic.
“Can’t wait to see how that works out.” I can picture him rolling his eyes.
I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “There will be nothing to see.”
“Sure, Rainey girl.”
He doesn’t believe me any more than I do, but I need to try. Kenny has been so busy with Brad, and I hate being the third wheel all the time.
I finally give in and tell him good night when I realize the conversation isn’t going anywhere. It was nice to tell him about my fear from earlier today and have him assure me it’s okay. Before I go to sleep, I have one more call to make.
“Hey, it’s Bryan. I can’t answer because I’m doing something awesome, so leave a message.”
I normally talk right away, afraid that my message will cut off if I talk too long. But right now, I don’t really know what to say. “Hi. So I guess I’m just calling to say good night. I hope you had a good day. Please call me. I really need to talk to you.”
I hang up, and after leaving Bryan a voicemail, I hold my phone against my chest and pray now more than ever that he calls me back.
* * *
The lunch rush is crazy today, and as I’m clearing dishes off a table, the bell rings on the door. Before turning around to greet the customer, I close my eyes for a moment. I didn’t sleep well last night, and the dream I had about Vaughn holding me in bed made me want to vomit when I woke up this morning.
“Hey there.” I turn and find the exact set of eyes that haunted my dreams staring at me.
He doesn’t say anything but looks around then points at a table. “Can I sit there?”
Why am I speechless? Why the hell can’t I talk? Why do l lose my resolve when I’m in visual vicinity of him? I clear my throat. “Yeah.”
“Cool, thanks.”
I scramble to the back and set the dirty dishes down. Polly is taking a quick five-minute break for a phone call, so I rush back out to the front, cash someone out, and then head over to Vaughn’s table with a menu.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” He holds his hand out. “I’m Vaughn. I own the tattoo shop next door.”
I smile when I realize what he’s doing. Starting over. When I slide my hand into his, I pretend to ignore how good it feels. “I’m Rayne. Can I get you something to eat?”
“Just give me the daily special with some water, please.”
“Got it.” I grab the menu off the table. “Be back in a few.”
He winks at me. Before I head to the back, I check on my other tables and then go make his sandwich. When I set it on the table, along with his water, I don’t have any time to talk and I proceed to run around like a mad woman. Without my mom and dad here, I’m doing the job of three people.
The rush finally slows, and when I make my way out of the back, Vaughn’s table is vacant. Polly catches me looking at it. “He paid and left about five minutes ago.”
“Oh, okay.” It shouldn’t upset me that he left without saying goodbye, but it does.
When we’ve cleared all the tables and the day is done, I lock the door behind Polly and count the drawer. He wanted to start over, and I agreed. But at the same time, I don’t. I just plain want him, and it hurts that I can’t have him. It hurts that I have to hide who I really am around him. As I’m putting the money into the thick envelope, I grab my phone and shoot Vaughn a text.
Me: I’m about to head out.
Vaughn: B there in 5
Me: Thx.
I scroll some stupid news site while I wait for him. He knocks on the door, and I grab my things and meet him on the sidewalk after locking up.
He takes a step closer to me, like he’s going to touch me, but then pauses and steps back. “I was worried you would take the whole starting over thing too literally. I’m glad you called me.”
“I didn’t call. I texted.”
He huffs out a breath. “Smart-ass.”
“Are you done for the day?”
“No. I have a few more appointments.”
“You the only one who works there?” I unlock my car and get in.
“Yeah.” He stands at the open door with a hand on top of my vehicle. “I’ve had other people work with me before, but it never ends well.”
“Why is that?”
He contemplates my question. “I don’t really know. It just never worked out. I guess I’m too much of a perfectionist to have my name attached to something I didn’t do. Because if you work at my shop, then your tattoos represent me. Ya know?”
“I can understand that.”
“I thought you might.”
I don’t want him to leave yet. “Do you ever get to take a vacation?”
“Why? Do you want to go somewhere with me?”
“Full of yourself much?”
He shrugs. “I can do whatever the hell I want. Perks of being the boss. I try to take off Sundays, but that’s about as much of a vacation as I’ve taken.”
My engine purrs as I start it, but I can’t think of anything else to say that doesn’t make me sound desperate.
“Speaking of, I’ve gotta get back to my client.”
“Oh, my God! You left someone in there?”
“Yeah, no biggie. See ya tomorrow.” He shuts my door and waits for me to drive away before he walks back to his shop.
I blare my music to avoid the thought running through my head on the way home. As I’m pulling into my driveway, my parents’ ringtone blasts through my car. I click the Bluetooth button.
“Hello?”
“Hi, honey. How are you?” my mom yells over the wind.
“I’m fine. How are you? Are you guys having fun?”
“Yes! I finally have reception, so I wanted to call you, but it’s so windy I can barely hear you.”
“It’s okay. Everything here is good.”
“What?”
“Everything here is fine,” I yell back.
“Good. Daddy says hi.”
“Tell him I said hi back.”
“I’m going to go. I’ll call you when it’s not so loud. Love you.”
“Okay, bye. Love you, too.”
I hang up and go inside then order some Chinese. The night goes by uneventfully, and before I go to bed for the night, I call Bryan.
“Hey, it’s Bryan. I can’t answer because I’m doing something awesome, so leave a message.”
“Hi. My parents just called. They’re still on their cruise.” I pause as I wait to think of something else to say. “Well, I’m really tired. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
* * *
“Do you only do tattoos?” I’m sitting on the leather couch up front while Vaughn is behind the desk eating the sandwich I brought over for him. This past week, he’s come over daily for lunch, but when I didn’t see him today, I freaked out a little bit. Seeing him every day makes me really happy. It’s the damn highlight of my day, quickly replacing hearing Bryan’s voice every day.
Vaughn answered my text right away and just said he was swamped. So since we didn’t have any customers at two, I sent Polly home and closed early for the day and came here while he had a couple of free minutes.
“Yeah. Why? You want a piercing?”
“Psh, no way.”
“You thinking about getting a tattoo again?”
“I never said I wanted one in the first place.” When I told him that I didn’t want one, I was lying. There is one thing I would like to get. Something I’ve wanted for years. “But yeah, kind of,” I admit when he rolls his eyes at me.
Wrinkles appear on his forehead when he raises his brows. “Really?”
“Yes.” I sigh.
“What do you want?”
“A flower.”
He doesn’t laugh like I thought he would, since it’s so cliché. “Which flower?”
“Bird of Paradise.” I want something that means freedom, something that reminds me it’s okay to be free and stop carrying so much baggage on my shoulders.
“Nice.” He tosses his garbage away. “Where do you want it?”
I point at my hip. “I want it to start here.”
“That’d look good. I can draw you something up if you want.”
“Oh. I’m not going to get it. I just—”
“Why not? You afraid of how much it’ll hurt?”
Again, he surprises me because I’m expecting some smart-ass comment, but he doesn’t deliver that at all. “It’s going to hurt; I won’t lie. But if it’s something that means something to you, if it’s something you want to look at every day in the mirror and have it remind you of . . . whatever that art means to you, you’ll push through the pain.”
I wish he’d stop being so perfect. It’s making it hard to stick to this whole friends only thing. “What about you?”
“What about me?” He comes and sits next to me on the couch, and I turn my body so I’m facing him.
“How come that arm doesn’t have any, but the other arm is covered?”
The expression on his face changes, but I can’t quite tell to what. It’s almost as if he looks pained.
“I have my reasons. Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”
“Okay.”
He reaches out and grabs my hand then tugs a little. “Come back here; let me see how big you want this thing.”
“Oh, no. I’m not really going to do it. At least, not yet.”
“I’m not doing it right now, but I’d love to draw something. You don’t have to, though.”
“Okay, I suppose it won’t hurt anything to see what it could look like.”
I follow him to the back room, and he points at the table. “Have a seat.”
After hopping up, I remove my purse from across my body and set it next to me.
He stands in front of me and makes it nearly impossible not to smell him. Touch him. “Lie down and turn to the side a little.” I have to close my eyes for a moment, so I stop looking at him and hoping he’ll read my mind.
When I don’t twist enough, he uses his hands and rolls me over more until my side is facing up. So gentle, but I know if he put a little muscle into it, he could have me in any position he wants. Any position I want. On my stomach. On my knees. “How far down do you want it to go?”
My throat tightens, and I swallow, hoping to wash down some of the lust that’s risen. “I’m not sure. Honestly, I haven’t thought that much about it. What do you think?” I turn my head to watch him looking at me. His eyes are trained on mine, and the lids become heavy, much like mine feel.
His fingers toy with the bottom of my shirt. “Can I?”
“Yeah.”
He watches as he slides the fabric against my skin, and he raises it. Right before he reaches my bra, he stops. His finger glides down over my ribs, and the pressure increases the farther down he goes. Goose bumps erupt where he touches, and I tremble under his inspection.
He retraces the path back up and dips over, skimming the sensitive skin below my breasts. We both inhale sharply as he uses just one finger to slide back and forth.
He finally looks up at me instead of my bare skin. “Have you thought about going lower?”
The slight Southern accent in his words is more pronounced, and it causes another part of me to tremble. “Lower?”
“Lower.” He draws an imaginary line from under my bra all the way down to the waist of my jeans then continues over the denim until he reaches the top of my thigh. Even through the thick material, his touch warms me, sets me on fire. “The stem could begin down here; I could make it . . . pulling, almost, away from the ground, like it’s freeing itself. The Bird of Paradise is a symbol of freedom, so it’d be like a double meaning, but if I did that, I’d need to start lower, so I’d have more room.” He flexes his hand on my thigh and then steps back. “Plus, I think it’d just look kick ass. But it’s entirely up to you.”
I sit up, so I’m facing him again. My mouth can’t form words. My mind can’t even comprehend what’s swirling around in it. I jump down and grab my purse with the intention of getting the hell out of here because it’s too much. He’s too much. I shouldn’t get excited from another man’s touch. It’s inappropriate. It’s so wrong. It’s cheating. And I’m not a cheater.
“You okay?”
“I . . . I can’t do this.”
“Get a tattoo? You don’t have to; it’s c—”
“You! I can’t with you. You can’t touch me; you can’t make me . . . feel things, Vaughn. I can’t.”
He holds his hands up. “Sorry. Jesus.” After he angrily runs a hand through his hair, he continues talking. “I won’t touch you, but you need to stop looking at me like you want me to.”
“I don’t!”
“Rainey, baby. You do.”
I step closer to him. “I do not.” I don’t, do I?
“If I didn’t know any better, because you’ve made your distaste for me quite clear, I’d say you wrote the freaking book on teasing a man.”
My head shakes, and I huff. “I am not a tease.”
“Okay.” He walks out of the room, and I follow him, stomping.
“Hey. I don’t tease you, Vaughn. We’re supposed to be friends.”
When he stops short and turns around, I run into him. My purse falls from my hands, and I reach up and grab his arms to steady myself while he holds me around the waist. He takes a step forward, and I take one back. We move again the same way, almost dancing, until my back hits the wall. His chest rapidly rises and falls while my breath locks in my throat.
I’m the one to pull him closer, and the instant he feels the movement, he slams his mouth against mine. My fingers tighten on his arm, and he lifts me by my butt. My legs wrap around his waist, and we both let out a moan when his very hard dick grinds against me.
He nips at my bottom lip, and I open my mouth. Our tongues crash together, and I move my hands from his arms to the thick head of hair. I’ve been secretly wondering if it was as smooth as it looks. I tug on the strands, and he growls then presses into me harder.
His hands knead my butt and thighs, and I lock my legs tighter around him, rubbing against him as I chase the orgasm that’s been teasing me since the moment I saw this man. It’s been so long for me that I can already feel my core tightening, and I whimper into his mouth. Using my hands and the advantage they have in his hair, I turn his head the other way to try to gain some control over our kiss.
Not so easy to concede, I feel him smile against my mouth and the door beep at the same time. We both freeze. He gently kisses my lips before he turns his head, blocking my face from view.
“Hey, man,” he says.
“I, um, have an appointment at five.”
“Yeah. Give me a few.”
Vaughn pats me on the thigh, and the weight of what I just did bears down on me so hard I almost fall to the ground. He steadies me, and without looking at him, I grab my purse and haul ass, making sure not to make eye contact with the guy sitting in the waiting room.
The cool fall air hits me in the face and almost immediately dries the tears that fall impulsively. He calls my name, but I ignore him and quicken my steps until I reach my car. Just as I’m grabbing my key fob out of my purse, he steps up behind me and traps me between him and my car.
“Rayne?”
“I’m sorry,” I cry.
He turns me around, but I can’t bear to look at him. I’m a horrible person. The worst. He grabs my face and tilts my head up. “Why the hell are you crying?”
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I’m so scared to say them. He’s going to think I’m awful, which I am. But I don’t want him to. Or maybe I do. Either way, I need to be honest with him. If not for me, then for Bryan.
I hold my eyes shut for a second and finally summon the courage to look at him. “I have a boyfriend.”