Page 43 of Pretty Thing

“Sure, sure. I think you just don’t like me having another guy in my life. You’ve been the only one…like ever.”

He rolls his eyes at me.

“Please, I don’t think a couple dates and kisses with an ass grab qualifies as the only guy in your life.”

I chuckle, loving that I can get under his skin like normal. Teasing one another is our norm, and it has taken my mind off the funeral. I look out the window and sigh.

“Sadly, it does.”

“Eden, you do know that you’re fucking hot, right? You need time to find the perfect guy. I just don’t think Felix is the one.” I look at him and cock a brow. “But that is only my opinion,” he adds, saving himself.

“All I’m asking is for you to give him a chance. Felix lost his mother a year ago and now his brother. His father is in prison, and I get the feeling that he doesn’t have a lot of friends to lean on.”

“Gee, I wonder why? He’s so friendly and approachable,” Kyle mocks, and I just shake my head as and smack his arm. I immediately regret it as my ribs bark at me, and cringe away from the pain.

“Ow. Dammit.”

“You deserve that for hitting me.”

Kyle smiles wide, and a tiny spark of the person I was before the crash comes to life. Like an ember of a fire that used to burn bright, and this is all that’s left. But at least it is something.

“Fine...” He sighs dramatically. “I’ll give him a chance,” he says, his expression sober. “But Eden…just be careful. Call it guy intuition.”

I nod. Felix doesn’t feel dangerous when he looks at me. He feels like standing in the middle of a storm and realizing that somehow, he’s keeping the lightning at bay.

“I will. Promise.”

Kyle squeezes my hand and then puts on music for the rest of the drive home. Even though I defended Felix’s actions, I need to get firm on some boundaries. No matter his intentions…arranging my parent’s funeral is a step too far.

felix

Despite how swamped I am with work and how much I normally love it, my mind is on Eden. She hasn’t texted to let me know how PT went, so I send her one, but still no answer.

“Oh my God, I love it,” my customer says as I put the final touches on the image of her cat.

I can do anything, but realism and fine line are my specialty, especially names done in all black. There is something so poetic about loving another so much that you want their name on your body. I caress the blank space on my forearm.

“You really captured her eyes.”

I look up at the woman who is now standing in front of the mirror, admiring the work.

“I’m glad you like it,” I say as I clean up.

My shop may not be fancy, but it is spotless, and everything is sterilized with new needles for every person. I hate how some shady artists will cut corners to make an extra buck.

“It’s worth every penny.”

She tosses a fifty down on my table as a tip before heading to the cash register to pay. Most think that Matt, my only friend, is the owner. Probably because he actually likes people and talks while I really don’t care to learn about their lives. There is only one person I care about.

The bell jingles as cat lady walks out.

“That’s your last one for the day,” Matt says as I put my ink away. “Wanna get a beer tonight?”

We are total opposites, but we’ve been as close as brothers since the moment we met in grade nine.

“Can’t, I’m seeing someone tonight.”

“A date…with you?” He walks over and parks himself on my roller stool. “Who is so desperate that they are going out with you?”