Draw Me In (17 page)

I looked back at Lily. “Oh yeah. Fine. No problem. Just have something I need to take care of this afternoon. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Lily nodded, turning her head so her silky black hair shone in the sunlight that poured through the window behind her. “Sure. No problem.”

Shouldering my bag, I lifted my tray and deposited it on the rolling belt at the back of the hall. The worry was creeping toward the front of my brain again. I guessed my decisiveness wasn’t as firm as I’d thought. I had to get off campus, away to my sanctuary. Even the art building wouldn’t do it right now; it was far too close to Dr. Fields. I wanted to be at Sinful Skin. More than that.

I wanted to be with Neill.

Neill

I looked up from the book in my lap as Hailey pushed through the shop’s door. I’d been trying to find reference material for a Norse tattoo that a client had requested, but all thoughts of Viking deities fled when I saw her face. Her cheeks were pale, almost tear-streaked. What the hell?

But she rushed past me, disappearing into the restroom and shutting the door behind her. I sank back into the chair I’d half risen from at her quick appearance, my brain buzzing.

Things had been going so well for the last couple of weeks. She’d done everything Tasha had been doing, with minimal help from me and the other guys. I’d been keeping a lid on my libido, and the two of us had been completely professional while working on her tattoo knowledge. I’d even been able to watch her draw without imagining her naked. Well, most of the time.

But something in my chest had twisted when I’d seen her so upset. That expression that had clouded her wide, bright eyes. She hadn’t seen me sitting there, in her chair. Was she sick? That would explain hiding in the bathroom.

I flipped past a depiction of Odin and Loki locked in battle, my brain still whirring. Had someone upset her? Had I upset her?

Roger poked his head around the corner. “Hey, I’m heading over to the drugstore, I’m out of smokes. Need anything?”

I kept from jumping at my sudden return from Worryland, but only just. “No, I’m good. Thanks anyway.”

“You got it.” Roger slapped the wall and disappeared out the front door.

Thankfully, that was just what I had needed. Roger was the one who’d reminded me that this was a business and I should keep my relationship with Hailey professional. Whatever was bothering her, it wasn’t my business unless it had something to do with Sinful Skin.

With that thought planted in concrete at the forefront of my brain, I went back to the book. I had a job to do, a concept to create that would make an epic back piece for a good customer. I’d already done a sleeve featuring tall ships and mermaids for this guy, so maybe Aegir the Norse sea god would work.

Another minute passed, and then the bathroom door squeaked open. My resolve wobbled when she appeared around the corner, still pale but quiet. I kept it solid, though. I had to, for us both.

“Hey there,” I said with a polite smile. “I’m working on a Norse piece for a guy. Want to help?”

“Sure,” she said, her voice so thin that it shoved jagged splinters through my heart. But I didn’t let my expression falter. I’d be strong.

“Great! Here, take this book, I’m going to grab Frankie’s iPad and swipe through some research really quick.” I passed over the book and moved past her, pretending not to see the tear that slid down her cheek.

Once in Frankie’s empty studio, I shut the door behind me and stared up at the painted- black ceiling. Goddammit, this wasn’t supposed to be so hard. She wasn’t supposed to cry. Seeing that tear had shattered the concrete around my resolve, and I desperately wanted to lunge at whatever had upset her, tearing it limb from limb.

But what if she’s crying for you?

My fucking subconscious could suck it.

I stalked across Frankie’s studio, nearly tripping over the edge of his camo-covered tattoo and piercing chair. Grabbing the iPad from its home in Frankie’s oak desk drawer, I stiffened my spine and my fake smile. She wasn’t crying for me. We weren’t anything to each other except artist and apprentice. That was it. And as far as I was concerned, that was all we’d ever be.

When I got back to her desk, Hailey was sitting in her chair, the book spread out on the counter in front of her. Normally, she was so excited when looking through art books, even history or mythology texts. That eye of hers was always working, that special way she had of seeing things. But today? Her cheek was propped in one hand as she casually leafed through the book with the other. Even with the sunshine pouring through the windows all around her, she seemed listless, joyless.

I shut my eyes for a second.
I can’t care. I just can’t.

To keep from pulling her into my arms and begging her to let me help, I talked instead. “So, this guy has been coming into the shop for a long time. He’s got a full sleeve on one side and pieces on both legs. I’ve been trying to talk him into a big piece for his back forever, but he’s been saying no. Up until today.” I set the iPad down beside the book, completely ignoring Hailey. I was talking to thin air, as far as I was concerned. Completely fine, happy thin air. “He said something mythological, maybe Viking-related. ‘Whatever you want,’ he said. So, let’s see. Did you find anything?” I was forced to look over at her when she didn’t answer right away. “Hailey?”

She blew out a shaky breath. “Yeah, no, sorry. I’m sorry, Neill. Not yet.”

I stood, pushing my hands in my pockets. I didn’t want to go there. I shouldn’t. But I had to. “What’s wrong?”

She bit her lower lip, glancing away before answering. “It’s school. I missed some meetings, my own fault, really, but my adviser’s giving me a hard time about it.”

“Is it the apprenticeship? I told you, if it’s too much, we can forget about it—”

“No!” She cut me off, looking up into my eyes for the first time that day. It hit me like a sucker punch in the guts. “No, it has nothing to do with that. I told you, I can handle it.”

I shook my head. “But if you’re having trouble getting to your classes, we can cut back the hours a little. Seriously. Maybe just work on the apprenticeship weekend mornings or something. It’s not a problem, really.”

Hailey stood, not standing as close as I wanted her to stand, but probably closer than was wise. “Please don’t take it away from me,” she whispered, eyes shining. “I . . .”

I stepped backward. “If you say it’s fine, then it’s fine. No problem.” I shoved a hand through my hair. “Okay, well, let’s talk about this tattoo, then. I’m thinking maybe Aegir, swirling above a whirlpool, and some lightning coming out over here . . .”

As I talked, I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She was trying to pay attention, but those damn tears were sliding down her cheeks again. What the hell was I supposed to do? I couldn’t stand this, I really couldn’t.

Fortunately for my wavering resolve, a customer came in right then.

“Hey, how are you?” I escorted the guy and his girlfriend to my studio after a quick conversation, grabbing the paperwork on my way. I could handle it, and maybe Hailey could use the time to pull herself back together. As much as I wanted to be the one to do it, I knew better. That slope was too slippery as it was.

Two days later, I was ready to rip my own hair out by the roots. I paced through my living room, my heels making giant thuds on the polished floor, glaring at the clock that kept reminding me I had to be at work in a mere ten minutes.

“She’s not my problem!” I yelled the words at the ceiling fan, which kept up its lazy twirling despite my argument. “I know she’s upset, and I know it’s about school, but I don’t know why it’s not better yet! I can’t help. She’s not my problem. She’s my apprentice, not my fr—”

I stopped because I couldn’t finish that thought. I hadn’t wanted this, but she was my friend. Lying to myself wasn’t any good.

Sinking onto the couch, I crossed my arms and stared straight ahead at the black TV screen.

She’d become my friend sometime in the last couple of weeks. Talking, laughing with the guys, even with the customers. She’d draw little cartoon animals on the corners of the reports she ran for me every day, making me laugh with the clever characters. In the shop’s downtime, I found myself leaning against the counter, chatting with her as she worked on her drawing or on the shop’s social media marketing. We’d talked about music, shows, favorite foods; hell, I even knew that her first pet was a rabbit named Beanie.

I’d had enough of her being sad. But what the hell was I supposed to do about it?

With one last glare at the clock, I got up and headed for the door. As I locked the deadbolt behind me, a thought struck me. Simple, but it might work to help her smile again.

Rounding the corner of the house, I walked to the shed that housed my garden tools. The clippers were in a drawer at the back, and my final destination stood only a few yards away, in my neighbor’s yard. Pulling a little
Mission Impossible,
I sneaked to the property line, glancing around to make sure no one was looking. All clear. Reaching up with the clippers, I cut a huge magnolia blossom from the tree. They had several more; they wouldn’t ever notice this one was gone.

I trotted back around to my driveway, careful to stay in the shadow of my house. Cradling the blossom gently, I tucked it inside my backpack. There. I’d tell her it was a test, for her to practice drawing. But I knew it’d make her smile.

As I cranked the bike’s engine, I shut my eyes for a second. Everything had been way too dark lately without the sunshine of her smile.

Chapter Fifteen

Hailey

I was more than relieved to leave campus at lunchtime on Friday. Ever since that weird conversation with Dr. Fields in the dining hall on Wednesday, I’d felt like a rat, scurrying across the campus, trying like hell not to be seen. I’d emailed him to say there had been a problem with my grant paperwork and I’d had to go to the registrar’s office instead of meeting with him as he’d asked—well, demanded. His reply had been short, almost curt, but he hadn’t called my bluff, thank God.

On the bus to the shop, I ate a bag of pretzels, trying to crunch quietly so as not to disturb the people sitting around me. I could have gone to the dining hall—Courtney and Lily would have been there, probably—but I couldn’t face being in there, scared I’d run into Dr. Fields again. I wasn’t supposed to work for several more hours, but I was going in anyway. Even though things at the shop weren’t exactly perfect, it was much better than holing up in my room and going stir-crazy.

As I bit into another pretzel, a gale of laughter from the seat behind me made me jump. Wishing I could feel that happy, I looked out the window. As the bus passed through an intersection, a shiny black motorcycle caught my eye. I started to smile, but the expression stopped dead before it could appear, reality snatching the momentary joy I’d almost felt.

Neill.

He’d been more distant than usual since I’d come in on Wednesday. I’d managed to haul ass into the bathroom to try to pull myself together, but apparently, I hadn’t handled it well. Somehow my awkward way of dealing with emotion had put even more space between us.

I sniffed as I crumpled the empty bag and stood, the bus squealing to a stop. I’d seen depression before with Mom, knew what it looked like, and right now I seemed to be dancing a whole lot closer to that cliff than I’d like to be. As I descended the bus steps and tossed the plastic bag into the trash can on the corner, I stiffened my spine and remembered what my grandmother had told me only a year or so before she’d succumbed to cancer.

Sometimes life is shit. But it’s those times that you find out what you’re made of.

I walked through the shop’s front door as a motorcycle’s engine roared in the alleyway. Whatever was going on with my parents, with my tuition, my classes, my life? I’d face it all, because I had to. I had no choice but to deal with all of it.

Though the shop looked empty, Frankie’s country music was already playing from his studio. It was always nice in here this time of day, sunlight pouring through the long front windows and illuminating the lobby, bouncing off the shiny chrome accent tables. Just the kind of peace I’d been looking for today. Maybe here, in the quiet, I could get some of my anxiety out.

I had just tucked my bag in its cubby when Neill entered through the back door, humming to himself. This weirdness between us couldn’t go on. I’d be as nice as I could, and maybe that would help fix things. I pinned a smile on my face, standing by the edge of the counter as he passed. “Hey. Nice day out, huh?”

“Yeah,” he called back to me as he deposited his helmet and bag in his studio. “I thought so, too. Almost warm enough to head to the beach.”

“I love the beach,” I said, hoping the wistful note in my voice went unnoticed. “Maybe I can get out there this year.” Neill turned slowly, both hands cradled under something. I started to look away, but my curiosity wouldn’t let me. “What—what’s that?”

He laughed and looked down at the floor, almost like an embarrassed kid. “It’s your lesson for today. A magnolia blossom. Here.” He came across to me and grabbed a blue plastic cup from behind the counter. “I thought you might like it. You know, to draw.”

Something uncurled in my chest. “I love drawing flowers. Did I tell you that?”

Neill shook his head, his hair tousled from the helmet, which only strengthened the boyishness of his appearance. “No, but I guessed.”

Looking at him still did things to me, despite the way I’d been voluntarily friend-zoned over the past couple weeks. Even though I knew that was for the best, I still wanted him as more than a mentor or a friend. Especially right now.

“I should get some water for this. I’ll be right back,” Neill said.

I watched as he disappeared into the break room. A smile broke out across my face, the first genuine one since Wednesday. He’d thought of me. I didn’t really believe that he’d only brought it so I could practice drawing. After all, I could have Googled pictures of a magnolia blossom and used them as a reference. Glancing down at my toes, I sighed to myself. He cared more than he let on. Maybe he kind of wanted me like I wanted him? Did he have some kind of relationship fear, too? It would make sense . . . I stopped my musing when he came back around the corner, the blue cup brightly contrasting with his dark shirt.