started working there when I was twelve.”
“That’s a long time.”
“My mother opened it, and I helped her out. I took over when she passed away.”
My chest tightens at her words. Her mother is dead. Just like mine. “That was nice of you to help her,” I say before taking another sip.
“Yeah, well …” She shrugs. “It was all she had, but she loved it.”
A silence falls over us, and my cell vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to see it’s Lucy.
Lucy: Where are you? I thought you were coming over this morning.
Ignoring the message, I lock my phone.
“What about your father?” I ask. “Does he help you with the shop?”
She shakes her head. “Left when Ethan and I were young.”
Well, fuck! This is going worse than I thought it would, but at least I know who Ethan is to her—her brother. That’s good to know.
My cell vibrates again but this time it’s my brother calling. “One second,” I tell her, then answer it. “Hello?”
“I need you to be in my office in an hour,” he barks.
“I’ll be there when I get there,” I say and hang up on him.
Her ice blue eyes go from my cell to mine. “You can go if you need to,” she says softly. Obviously, she’s changed her mind about whatever she wanted to meet me about.
I want to tell her that it’s fine, but I do need to get to Kingdom. I’m not in the mood to put up with my brother yelling at me all day, so I stand. “I’ll walk you back to Roses,” I say, tossing what’s left of my coffee into the trash can by the door.
She stays silent as we walk down the sidewalk and into Roses. She turns to face me once we step inside. Her eyes run over my neck tattoo and then my sleeve. She’s never treated me differently or looked at me any different than other customers, but I want to know what she’s thinking. Do they turn her off? Disgust her?
I can see the question written all over her face. The one that everyone asks—why did you get those tattoos? Do they mean something? Do you think you’ll regret them when you’re older? It’s always the same.
“I like art,” I say. Her eyes find mine, but she doesn’t say anything. “That’s what you were thinking, right? Why I have so many?”
She averts her eyes to her black sneakers, and a blush covers her cheeks. God, she’s gorgeous. In a dream sort of way. Like nothing I’ve ever seen in person.
“Can I show you something?” she asks shyly.
“Yes,” I answer, stepping away from her to allow her space.
She walks toward the back. I follow her without being told. She pushes a back door that reads exit only, and we enter a narrow back alleyway. She takes a few steps away from the door and then turns to face me. I come to a stop and just stare down at her. It’s a sunny day here in Vegas, and the sun hits her eyes just right. They look almost see-through. Hypnotic. “What did you want me to see?” I ask, clearing my throat.
Placing her hands on both of my shoulders, she spins me around to face the back of the building with her. “What the …?” I trail off as my eyes look over the building. It’s covered in various shades of blue, red, green, yellow, and purple.
I step up to it and run my fingers over the brick. Blue water plays its part of a river. Tips of white make it look like it has rolling waves. To the right are mountains with peaks covered in dark clouds. To the left are tall buildings at night. Silver makes up the windows as they shine from the moonlight. “Someone vandalized your building,” I say. “It’s beautiful.”
“You think so?” she asks softly, still standing behind me.
I nod. “Absolutely.” I take a step back, coming to stand beside her and place my hands in my front pockets, just taking it in. “Fuck, it must have taken them forever to do it.” It spans the entire back of the building. There is no way this was done in one night. Well, that’s not true. I guess it depends on how many people they had working on it at once. But it doesn’t look like several people did it. It looks like one. Art is like anything else. Everyone’s strokes are different. There is nothing in this pic that