Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,41
either.”
I sure as hell wasn’t ready to take him home, not if he wanted to stay out with me. “How about a walk in the park?”
“That’s perfect.”
My body hummed with the knowledge that he was right there. Close enough to touch. We’d circled around each other for such a long time that it was strange to have permission to do this now, to be with him, without having to hide it. The knuckles of his hand brushed mine, and I thought about grabbing him and pulling him into the shadows of the trees and making out until we were both breathless. But I was determined to do this the right way.
The park was only minutes from the theater. We lazily walked toward the large, paved loop that ran around the lake, our strides long but our pace slow. The moon was bright enough that the water seemed to glow, and street lamps dotted the trail, making it well lit. Channing took my hand as we walked and I sighed, squeezing his hand happily.
“Has it been good to take a summer off?” I asked. His diligence with school had been incredible to me these last few years, though I’d wondered in summers past if he’d stayed on campus for class to avoid me.
Channing shrugged. “It’s been a change, that’s for sure. I think I just needed some distance—and I really missed Christian and Dane. When I started college, I was super gung-ho. But I think it hit me with graduation looming that maybe I’d rushed a few things. I dunno.”
He was staring into the distance.
“It’s been nice to have you home,” I said, shooting for casual and missing in a big way. I sounded like a love-struck puppy. Channing gave me a knowing look.
“I bet it has. You know, it’s funny. I’d ask you to tell me more about how the shop had been doing while I was gone, but I can just watch it on TV.”
“You’ve been watching the show?” For some reason, this made me feel light as air.
He play shoved me. “Of course I watch. I’ve had to keep my eye on Dane somehow.”
I grinned. “The show is heavily edited, as you well know. They cut out all the mundane shit. And there’s a lot of mundane shit now.”
I thought about my office, about that goddamned chair that seemed to be where I spent ninety percent of my waking hour, and decided I didn’t want to think about it just as quickly.
“Tell me more about school,” I said as we strolled. His step faltered for a moment.
“God, you know how to get right to it, don’t you?” he muttered.
Frowning, I glanced at him. I hadn’t meant to get “right to” anything. It just seemed like a natural thing to ask. But… maybe there was more to his summer stay than just seeing his brothers. “What do you mean?”
For a moment I thought he wasn’t going to say, but then Channing started talking. “I haven’t told anyone this yet, but I’m struggling with a big decision regarding the fall semester. If I stick to what I’ve been doing, I’ll graduate. Boom. Social worker degree. When I was eighteen, I was so certain that’s what I wanted that I didn’t leave any room for exploring other options. But—and I do mean this with heavy eye-rolling—you were right. I needed to experience more things. I needed to be on my own in a healthy way, not just living on the streets. And it gave me a new perspective.”
“It does make a difference,” I said, not entirely sure where he was going with this. “Being on your own two feet, but with a firmer foundation.”
“Yeah, exactly.” Channing walked closer, his shoulder brushing mine. “And now that I’ve been on this path for as long as I have, I don’t know if social work fits anymore. But I also don’t have a clue what does. So I’m stuck—do I just get the degree anyway? That will mean Christian paid for me to go to school and then I do fuck all with it, which feels wrong. Or I could just become a social worker until I know what I want and can pay for it myself, but that also feels wrong—like lying to everyone, almost. And I don’t want to lie.”
I put an arm over his shoulder, needing to touch more of him, hoping to soothe some of his anxiety. He still had so much life in front of him, so much time