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But that had been a thing once too, hadn’t it? Their similar style and the art they were drawn to.
Johnny and André discussed the details and she just stood there, trying to figure out where she was in time and space.
It was as if those couple of hours they’d spent at the ballgame last night had reset her nervous system. Her mind was a mixture of all the fun they’d had in the past, the fun they’d had last night, interspersed with flashes of the confusion and heartbreak that had followed his startling absence.
This was the guy who had broken her heart without saying a word. And he was also the guy who made her laugh and feel seen.
Which one was real?
It couldn’t be both, right?
The song switched, and again, she was caught off guard.
Was this The Damned?
At least his music kicked ass.
She glanced at André.
Who would finish the lounge if he just didn’t show up one day? If he just disappeared and wouldn’t return anyone’s calls?
He’d done it before.
She could ask but knew it would sound accusatory. And hadn’t they all agreed that it had been a long time ago?
Okay, time to take stock of the facts.
Fact one. André was superhot. Let’s get that one out of the way.
Fact two. He had been hired to do a job.
Fact three. She would be fine.
It was that last fact that had her releasing the tension and confusion that had been building in her body. She let out a deep breath and reminded herself that she had been fine the first time. If he disappeared again, she would be okay.
She knew how to do all the renovations herself. It might take her a while, but she could do it. She had the tools and the skill.
Having André do the renovations wasconvenient. Not necessary.
She turned in a circle again, looking at the open space with new eyes and ideas. She could bring in the old leather chair her grandmother had given her. And she had some vintage band posters from her travels in Europe that would look fucking awesome on the walls. Ooh! That lamp that she’d found at the yard sale down the street!
Yes. She could make this work.
And it would be a beautiful space for artists to chill and create and she could do it. On her own. Without André.
“Are you okay?”
She came back to André who had put a shirt on, it was blue. He was watching her carefully. Johnny had gone.
She nodded.
“You sure?” he asked, eyeing her skeptically.
Was she okay? Of course.
Nikki had long been a roll-with-the-punches kind of gal.
“I mean, everything about this is weird, but I’ll be fine,” she told him honestly and shrugged. What else was there to say?
