Blink. Blink.

“Kelly and I weren’t dating. We were just friends with benefits. Or parents with benefits. Whatever. Now we’re just Hayley’s parents.”

Blink. Blink.

“I went and told her that we couldn’t do that anymore, and she understood.”

“You told her?” she whispers. “That you…what? What did you tell her?”

“I told her that I can’t stop thinking about you.” I brush her hair back from her forehead. I kissed Friday that one time when I walked her home and she invited me inside, and we both knew what she was offering, but I don’t think I’ve ever just held her in my arms. I like it. She lays her palms flat on my chest, like she needs to steady herself.

“I have a thing for you,” I admit. I wince inwardly because it sounds so lame.

“A thing?”

“A big thing.”

Her gaze drops.

“Not that thing.” Although now that she’s looking down at it, it’s ready to rise to attention. Fucking attention whore. I tip her chin up. “But,” I say.

“But what?”

“Then you showed up with that first douche. And then that second douche. And I had just changed my whole life for the possibility of you. But you had moved on. Quickly.” I drag my fingertips up and down her bare arms, and chill bumps rise. She shivers. “So, yeah, I’m mad. Sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“I’m not.”

She laughs, and the sound of it shoots straight to my heart.

“Am I too late?” I ask. I wait, with my heart in my throat.

She steps back from me. “Paul,” she says. Her voice cracks. “I’m so sorry.”

I don’t need to hear any more. I go out and start my machine up and get back to work. I hear her move around in the shop, and I glance up at her every once in a while, but she gets busy with clients, drawing tattoos, and she ignores me. She doesn’t look in my direction. Not even once. Not for the whole rest of the night. And when it’s closing time, Logan volunteers to walk her home. I let him.

Friday

I didn’t even sleep last night. I just tossed and turned and thought about what Paul said to me yesterday. He basically asked me if I have feelings for him. I have lots of feelings for him. Some are easier to define than others.

Sometimes he drives me up the wall, particularly when he sulks. Other times, he makes me laugh until my stomach hurts. And the way that he loves his family… That makes me ache inside. All those Reed boys together—they embody everything that I would want if I had been lucky enough to have a family. I watch Paul with his daughter and I almost melt into a puddle on the floor, because I know there’s nothing that Hayley could ever do to make him not love her. She could dance naked in the street. She could fall in with the wrong crowd. She could discover drugs and alcohol. Okay, so he would wring her neck for that, but he would still love her. She could even get pregnant at fifteen, and he would still love her. He would stand by her no matter what. That’s something I never had.

I walk into the shop and wince when the bell over the door chimes. Paul comes out from the back of the shop wiping his hands on a towel and stops short. He looks everywhere but at me. “Morning,” he murmurs.

“Good morning,” I say back. I drop my bag behind the counter and smooth my skirt with my hands. Paul’s gaze drops to my legs, and then he looks away. I’m glad he’s the only one here, because we really need to talk.

He turns to go back to the rear of the shop, and I call his name. “Paul.” He stops, and I see his shoulders tense.

He answers without looking back at me. “What?” He heaves a sigh.

I walk toward him and lay my hand on his back. He tenses more, his muscles bunching up beneath my fingertips. “I’m sorry,” I say. “Please don’t be angry at me.”

“I’m not angry,” he bites out.

I force out a laugh, but there’s no merriment in the sound. “You are so angry.”

He turns around and looks down at me. “I’m jealous,” he says. “And, yeah, that makes me angry.”

“You don’t have anything to be jealous about,” I tell him.

“Keep your boyfriends out of here and I won’t be.”

“They’re not my boyfriends.”

He growls. “I don’t even want to know what they are.” He holds up a hand to stop me when I open my mouth. “Shut it,” he says. “Don’t even bring them up. I don’t want to discuss it.”

I bite my lip to keep from talking and play with my lip piercing with my tongue. His gaze drops to it and stays there. I force my tongue back in my mouth.

I toy with the hem of my dress. “Did you really break things off with Kelly?” I ask quietly. My voice is little more than a whisper, but I know he hears me because he swears under his breath.

“Yes,” he grits out. “I did.”

“So, are you going to go back now?” My cheeks are so hot I probably look like a clown.

“Go back where?”

“To Kelly.”

“No, that’s over. It should have been over a long time ago. It was just easy to let it keep going.”

“Oh. Was she okay with that?”

I follow him into the back room and he makes himself busy putting ink supplies away in the cabinet. “She’s getting married, so yeah, she was fine with it.”