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When I got here this morning—while later than I should have been—I tore out the pages of samples waiting in my portfolio book and replaced it with a photo of Rex’s neck tat under the premise that today is a day for original pieces only. No duplicates, no pre-drawn shit.
Only fresh new designs that were gonna cost more in change and in time, but worth the wait.
I needed the freedom.
Especially after bawling my eyes out in front of my dad for the first time in so many years that I feel cleaner.Lighter.
On the verge of free from the sins that aren’t mine to carry.
Or at least that’s what my therapist calls it.
Not that it dismisses my own actions that I’ve taken because of them—like lying or omitting the things from the people that I love most—but instead trying my hardest to move on from them with a little less weight baring down in my chest.
Then there’s Fin.
He deserves to get whatever he wants from a person that shares his life, if that’s in the cards for a rock god like him, and that just isn’t me. Not right now. Possibly not ever.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be good enough for a guitar legend like him.
But for now, I’ve decided to start with Aria, my bestest friend in the whole wide world who deserves to know the whole truth.
“Whatever,” I reply to Aria and wipe away excess ink.
As soon as I muster up the courage.
The concentration on the piece at hand is what I blame for not remembering what the hell we were even talking about.
“Seriously, C.” I catch my best friend rub her protruding belly from the corner of my eye. “You said the kiss was fucking nice.” More hypnotizing circles around her larger-than-one-baby belly. “And Rex said there was some kind of photo or something. That’s why the meeting this morning.”
“Wait.” Aria’s words seep into my subconscious and have my hands backing off of the piece I’m almost done with. “Back the fuck up.”
“What?” More circles and a crease to her sculpted brow. “Wasn’t Fin with you?”
“Uhhhhhh…” I drag out on a breath. My hands threaten to shake, so I set the tattoo gun down on my little side table. I tap the client in my chair to make sure they’re still sleeping with their headphones in, and when they don’t stir at all, I rip off my gloves and stand. “I mean … shit—”
“You totally were.” Aria points a manicured finger in my direction and snickers. “That’s why you didn’t answer me!”
“Fuck.” I blow out a breath through puffed cheeks and rub a hand over my forehead that feels hotter than normal. “Okay, I was.” I can admit that without her judging me, right? “For a little bit but he left.”
See, I didn’t die, and she doesn’t know it all.
I can do this.
So why does my chest feel like it’s on fire?
“What picture?”
“Oh.” Aria pushes up from her lean on my toolbox and pulls something up on her phone. “Even I found it online. Ian’s slacking.” Facing the screen my way, Aria continues talking despite my heart stopping in my chest and my knees going weak at the sight. “Looks like Fin, but if he was with you last night, then there’s no way it’s him.”
Oh my God.
“It’s kinda hard to tell cuz it’s so dark.” Aria turns the phone back to herself and pinches at the screen to zoom in. “I mean, there’s more than one guitar like that in the world, right? Or maybe someone took his?”
“Oh, fuck.” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it when she flashes the zoomed-in version and the room spins. “Oh, no.”
“Cedar?”
“Ohhhhhh,no.”
