empty holes and somehow filling in every gap.
Making them whole.
I didn’t think I’d be whole again for a long time . . . maybe not ever.
Being dumped the way I had, then hearing story after story after story of Lorna’s betrayal, realizing that I’d lost so much of myself to the relationship, that I’d missed every sign. The fact that I’d become a shell of a person told me enough about myself.
I wasn’t cut out for relationships.
Hell, my dad had illustrated that quite clearly when he’d left not even a week after I’d been born. He’d seen the signs, even in a newborn. My brain was pinging with alarm, telling me that I was going down the wrong path, that I was getting it all wrong, but I was fully wrapped up in the circling thoughts, so it was easy to ignore the caution in my inner thoughts.
I just knew . . . Charlie deserved better.
Fuck, just look what had happened in barely more than a week.
I’d met her, become obsessed, dreamed and jerked off and fantasized about her sharp tongue and tight body . . . so much so that I’d broken the most important rules I promised myself I would follow.
No woman. No ties.
No falling for anyone.
And I’d done well with that over the last year.
Until Charlie and her pretty blue eyes. Until Charlie and her gorgeous body. Until Charlie and the shadows of her past haunting her face.
So yeah, it was better that I step back now, that I halt whatever crazy chaos was happening between us and let Charlie have her comfortable space back. I’d finish my appointments, I’d buy a plane ticket home, and I’d leave her to her life.
There. Then it would all be done.
“Garret—”
Tig’s voice made me jump slightly. I’d been so wrapped up in the storm of emotion in my mind that I’d forgotten he was there.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll get someone in to do a deep clean of the apartment when I go.”
“I don’t give a shit about the apartment. Garret—”
I slammed down a box of gloves, my words a growl. “I said, I’d leave her alone.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Tig snapped.
“Then what?”
“I’m worried about you.”
I had a bottle of ointment in my hand, but his words froze me in place. “Why in the fuck would you be worried about me?” I managed to shove through stunned lips a few heartbeats later.
“Because you’re not the same man I met five years ago at that tattoo convention.”
“No one is the same person they were five years ago.”
“Excuse.”
I shrugged. “Look. I’m a better artist now. I’ve got a decent following and can actually make a living at this now rather than just cobbling together a life where I always worried about paying my rent.” I began organizing the random items I’d pulled out on my tray. “Now I have enough to save, to think about getting my own place. That changes a man.”
Tig was quiet for long enough that I glanced up at him.
“Yes, it does,” he said. “But building a career isn’t what changed you.”
“Drop it,” I said.
“I have let it stay dropped for a long time,” he snapped. “I let you request time here without any questions, without an end date. Let you stay here because you’re my friend. But, fuck, have you changed, Garret.”
I opened my mouth to say that everyone changed again, but Tig beat me to it.
“I get that people grow and mature over time,” he said, his words clipped out. “I may be a dumbass with a tattoo gun, but I do know at least a bit about people and emotions. Yes, you changed. No, it’s not because you’ve suddenly become a grown-up. You’re hurt and you’re hiding.”
“Leave it,” I muttered. “Just leave it the fuck alone.”
Tig was silent for a long time again, but just when I felt the air change, his body stiffening, lips parting as he prepared to say something, the front door of the shop opened.
The bell tinkled.
A nervous librarian type female walked carefully inside.
My first client of the day. I waved.
Tig recognized that, too, setting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing firmly. “You deserve to be happy.”
I shook him off. “Just not with Charlie.” It wasn’t a sharp statement or even a question. It was truth stated, simply and plainly.
I wasn’t good for Charlie.
He studied my face carefully, eyes searching. Then he sighed.
“No,” he said. “Not with Charlie. She’s too fragile.”
I had the distinct thought that Charlie would