Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,76

you?”

Channing shrugged, his arms uncrossing. He held his hands in his lap. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m going to be in school. Not just until December anymore, either. With the extra major and graduate school, I’m looking at at least two more years. Didn’t you think of that?”

And fuck, I hadn’t. But he was right—we’d be separated again, our lives running divergent paths. But I couldn’t think about that too closely. “God, I’ve been a massive jerk. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Channing said, softening. “I haven’t seen a selfish bone in your body the entire time I’ve known you. It’s been a bit of a relief to know you’re human and not this selfless superhero. And your art is incredible—I’m glad the world will get to see it.”

My breath hitched. “Please don’t tell me there’s a ‘but’, Channing. I might be excited about painting, but it pales in comparison to how I feel about you. There are a lot of things to figure out—I get that. But I want to try and make it work with you. Is that...please say you want that, too.”

Channing’s whole body sagged in relief. “Obviously I do. I love you.”

I’d experienced a high at the gallery. But hearing those words again from his beautiful lips? Ecstasy. I got out of my chair and pulled Channing up with me. He fell into me, his body flush against mine, and our lips found each other, the kiss deep and sensual. It felt so, so right.

But I couldn’t take this for granted, the way I’d done over the weekend. I couldn’t lose sight of what we had together, or assume that Channing would go along with anything I wanted. As my tongue slid into his mouth and his hands grasped my hair, I vowed to change that. To dig it out at the root. He’d just shown backbone and maturity and a patience with me that I didn’t deserve. So I would put in the work for him, try my hardest. I’d try to remember that a relationship is two people having to meet halfway.

At the back of my mind, though, I realized that the halfway point was about to grow further apart. Between school and pursuing my art on such a large scale, two things that were worlds away from each other...were we just postponing the inevitable breakup?

Was this the beginning of the end?

20

Channing

It was difficult to focus on work after the talk with Reagan. Part of it was the guys, who were all watching me to make sure I was okay. I was, but it wasn’t like I could just announce to everyone that Reagan and I had figured our shit out and he’d apologized for being a colossal ass. That colossal ass was also their boss, and I wouldn’t make him look bad in front of them.

I was also still recovering from the weekend’s heartaches. Reagan had heard me, really listening, and had said he was sorry. But I knew it took me longer than others to let go of hard feelings, so I was trying to let go of all of my anger and frustration and nerves. Once something rocked my confidence, though, my brain had a nasty habit of holding onto it with white knuckles.

I was lost in my head toward the end of our newest hire, Bryan’s shift, and I didn’t see him approach the desk until he spoke up. “Hey, Channing?”

I jumped, and then turned to look at him with a flustered smile. “Hey, Bryan.”

Bryan reminded me a little of myself. Young and slim, his shoulders hunched and his blue eyes wary. I got it. This job seemed too good to be true. It had taken me a long time to understand that the way the crew seemed like family wasn’t a front—and even longer to realize that I was well and truly a part of it.

“Do you think I could talk to you?” Bryan’s lower lip was raw from being chewed on.

“Sure. I can walk you out to your car, if you’d like?” I got the sense he was looking for somewhere private for this talk. He nodded and headed to the door. As I followed, I caught Mateo’s eyes firmly locked on Bryan for a moment. He seemed deep in thought until he caught me looking at him. Mateo frowned and went back to work on the flash piece he was tattooing on a walk-in.

Outside, I stretched and realized how tense I’d remained all day. And I