The Reinvention of the Rose - Christina C. Jones Page 0,12

ass umbrella over both of us. “You’re lucky the hail already passed.”

I blew out a sigh, dumping the useless combination of metal and cutesy fabric in a nearby trashcan before wiping my face dry with the sleeve of my hoodie. “Thank you,” I told him, peering at my bag to make sure my food was still safely secured in the recyclable containers it all came in. “I’ve never had that happen to me before.”

“I could tell,” he chuckled. “I’ve got you from here.”

Immediately, I shook my head. “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “Going out of your way.”

He shrugged. “You passing UG?”

“The coffeehouse? Uh… yeah.”

“That’s not out of my way at all then. Let me at least get you there.”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

He switched the umbrella to the same side where his food was looped over his arm and put a hand at the small of my back, easily steering me like we knew each other.

Entirely too familiar.

I wanted to mind it, a lot.

The fact that I didn’t made me temper my reaction, simply moving away from his touch without mentioning it. I really didn’t want him walking me “home” either, but if he was already going that way I wasn’t about to get soaked for the fun of it.

I also wasn’t about to argue while my food got cold.

“How is the tat?” he asked, breaking the silence between us. “You still happy with it? Feeling good about it?”

I haven’t wanted to carve off a chunk of my skin even once since I got it was the real answer, but since I didn’t think that would go over well, I nodded.

“I’m happy. Thank you again.”

“You ain’t gotta thank me, sweetheart. It was a nice challenge,” he explained, stopping to wait for the crosswalk signal before we crossed the next street. “Felt a little bad covering up your other work. Must’ve been an ugly breakup.”

“Very.” As soon as the walk signal popped up, I moved, with Tristan falling into step right beside me. “Nightmare inducing.”

“Damn. Was there like… abuse or something?”

“You’re nosy,” I said, stopping in my tracks to face him directly.

“My bad. I prefer to think of it as simple curiosity. Power of deduction.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means… shit, if I’d left an abusive relationship I’d be getting new tats and being a mystery person too,” he shrugged.

I met his gaze, considering his words – the accuracy in his framing of a past he knew nothing about. “Yeah. It’s cool.”

“It is?”

“It is,” I nodded, turning to start walking again. “Because I will never, ever be controlled again. By anybody. So I’m good.”

I had a hard time meeting his gaze after that, knowing he was probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me, and what was happening in my head. So I didn’t even try, opting instead to focus on getting back to the candle shop.

A mistake I didn’t realize until I was standing in front of it, with my keys out.

A mistake I never would have made before my abrupt departure from service to the Garden.

“This is your spot?” Tristan asked, incredulous, as he peered through the dust-coated glass, trying to get a peek inside. The awnings were cared for by the neighborhood as a whole, so they were still intact, giving us the protection needed for him to let down the umbrella.

I had my keys out like a dummy, so there was no point in lying.

“Yeah,” I told him. “That some kinda problem?”

He shook his head. “Nah, not at all. Just… unexpected. Which I… should’ve expected, honestly,” he chuckled. “You gonna revamp it or something? You really like candles?”

“I don’t give a shit about candles,” I blurted. “But… yeah. I might revamp it.”

“Why spend the time on something you don’t give a shit about?”

I shrugged. “Why not?”

“Because you could spend it on something you do give a shit about it.”

“But I don’t have anything I give a shit about,” I argued, immediately regretting my candor when I saw the way his expression changed. “I mean… I don’t know what I give a shit about,” I corrected. “I didn’t… I didn’t have a lot of leisure time, before I left my job.”

“Ohhh.” His face relaxed, and he nodded. “That’s right, you did say you were on sabbatical. That’s a lot of change at once,” he added. “Breakup, leaving your job, starting a new thing, getting tattoos, threatening to stab niggas… I’m no expert, but it seems like you’re beasting this whole woman of mystery