Ocean (Damage Control Book 5) (11 page)

It’s toasty warm inside our apartment, though not as warm as inside Ocean’s. He likes it warm, he said. As if it’s a luxury for him and he can’t help himself.

And here I am, reading things into what he says. Again. You’d think by now I’d have learned my lesson, but no.

“You don’t mean that. I thought I hated JJ at first, but now I realize I was only scared. Scared of falling for him. Of not being what he wanted.”

“I’m not scared. Drink your tea,” I say, a bit more sharply than I intended. “Otherwise I can’t read the leaves.”

Amber snickers quietly, unfazed.
Damn.
She knows me far too well. “You read my tea leaves an hour ago. I don’t think my fate has changed so much already.”

“You never know.” I scowl fiercely at the fabric in my lap and the needle threaded with crimson thread. “Better be prepared.”

“Kay… You can’t be prepared for life. I should know. I always hid and where did that leave me?”

“Here with me? And Jesse Lee?” I venture, but my composure is slipping. “Look, I don’t
hate
hate Ocean, okay? But he acted like a major a-hole, and that’s…”
Breaking my heart?
Not possible. Not breaking it. But definitely wounding it. “That’s a douchy thing to do.”

“Because he kissed you?”

“He didn’t just kiss me, he…” He put his mouth on my boobs, and his fingers inside me, and made me come so hard I saw stars, and then… “He basically said nothing about it, and then told me off.”

“I can’t believe that. Not Ocean. What exactly did he say?”

“Well, believe it. He was sarcastic. Asked if I intended to fix him with my soup. Can you imagine that? The soup he asked me to make. And when I said I thought we were friends, he said I was wrong. Which was like saying I never gave a damn about you, Kay, and now get out of my apartment.”

“Oh, come on.” Amber leans back, balancing the laptop on her knees, and gives me a long, dark look. “He never said any of that. That’s you putting words in his mouth.”

“You weren’t there,” I say stubbornly, because that sarcasm had burned like acid. You’d think after fighting off my family’s criticism and negativity for so long I’d have really thick skin, but for some reason, where he’s concerned, all my defenses fail. “He was mean. He used me, Amber. And it’s weird.”

Weird because I thought he liked me—that we were friends, at the very least. And that he’s a good person. Look how he’s helping Jason out.

Tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won’t let Ocean break me. Never realized how easily he could do it.

Maybe that’s why I hate him. He made me realize how vulnerable I really am, when I thought I was hard as nails.

“He’s not been himself lately,” Amber is saying. “Remember, we talked about it. Something’s off, JJ told me the same. Maybe it wasn’t you he was angry at. Maybe it was something else.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not good enough. I’m not his punching bag.”

Still, I think back at our exchange. Did I miss some clue? Could it be the phone call he made upset him?

“Let’s have a look at the new page.” I point at her website. “See if the prices are now presented correctly. I want to forget about Ocean.”

For the next thirty seconds, at least. It’s something.

“Right.” She’s still eyeing me warily, as if I might bite. “Here’s the section for long dresses. What about wedding dresses?”

“What about them?”

“Will you be making Ev’s, like she asked?”

I shrug, still turning the mystery of Ocean’s strange behavior over in my mind. “Haven’t given it much thought. It’s not like it’s urgent, is it?”

“It might be.” Amber winks, and I stare at her, momentarily blindsided.

“What?”

“You may, in fact, start thinking of several designs, as I’m sure you’ll get more requests pretty soon.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

She winks and returns her attention to the screen. “Well, for one, Micah proposed.”

“Yay. Awesome! Ev totally knew he would.”

How did she know? How could she read Micah so well, and I misread Ocean all the time?

“And I am certain more guys we know are about to propose to their girls.”

“Yeah? And what makes you so certain?” I stick my tongue out to her. “Did you spread my Tarot cards when I wasn’t looking?”

“No need to look at your cards to know,” she says, clicking through to my blouses category. “When your girl tells you she’s about to have your baby, you’ll hurry to put a ring on her finger. And I know that because I know these boys, and they’re good men.” She hesitates, then says it. “Ocean, too, Kay. He’s a good guy.”

“Maybe to other people.” I stab the needle into the fabric and bite the inside of my cheek, because anger is starting to give way to numbness, and I’m not ready to give up on the anger yet. “Now gimme more gossip. Who’s having babies?”

“I’ll tell you if you promise to calm down and not murder Ocean in his sleep.”

I shrug, because I can’t make any promises.

“Oh, before I forget!” Amber’s eyes brighten. “Rafe and Zane are organizing a tattoo convention at Damage Control. A small one. More like a sleepover.”

“Sleepover?”

“Yeah. Well, sort of. They invited the tattoo artists from a hot new tattoo stop in Chicago, Soul Stain, and it will be a walk-in weekend. There will be lines, and people entering and going, and we totally need to set up a stand with my jewelry and your clothes. Have you got any of those nifty fingerless gloves you make? And the headbands? They’ll sell like hot cakes.”

“Look at you, all businesswoman-like.” It’d be nice to make some extra money. This could be fun. “It sounds good.”

“It does.” Amber winks at me.

I frown. “Why are you winking at me? Something wrong with your eye?”

“Nothing’s wrong with my eye. The tattoo artists? They’re hot. Kade is to die for. They have a picture from a party on their website.”

“I see,” I say absently.

“Mancandy, girl. Maybe they’ll let you touch. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Not sure, to be honest. I know I said many times that I’d love to touch this or that guy’s ripped chest, and I wasn’t kidding. What’s wrong with some fun, right? Especially if you’re not interested in a relationship.

But now I don’t know if I want to touch anyone but Ocean. Scratch that: I know I don’t want to touch anyone but Ocean.

Sick. I’m sick. Definitely coming down with something. Especially since I’m still pissed as hell at him.

But I remember his kiss, and it’s a bitter-sweet sting to my mind, a wave of heat unfurling in my body, in my heart.

Maybe touching a hot inker at this tattoo convention/sleepover can cure me. One can only hope.

***

Babies, huh? Amber wasn’t kidding. Three babies, to be precise. Not bad at all. Looks like the Inked Brotherhood kept busy. Looks like everyone kept busy while I pined for Ocean.

Hold up, not
pined
. Considered him. Checked him out. Entertained vague hopes of dancing, kissing, getting hot and sweaty with him.

And almost did. No, I definitely did. I mean, we kissed. And got sort of hot and sweaty together. Good God, that boy knows how to use his mouth and hand, and…

I shouldn’t be remembering that. At all.

Screw him.

But anyway, we kissed, and that’s off my list now, right? A list I don’t have, but maybe it’s about time I made one, too.

Ocean Storm, check.

Next.

Besides, why not? Was I going to wait for Ocean to date me and woo me and marry me or something? That’s exactly what my family would want, and that’s bull crap. Except they wouldn’t want Ocean as my husband to be. He’s too… colorful. Has too much of a bad vibe going. Blue hair, tattoos. No college education. A blue-collar job.

Is being an artist a blue-collar job?

Probably.

And why am I thinking of Ocean and marriage
again
? Am I crazy? Has to be all the talk about babies and weddings. Amber could be right.

I should make a wedding gowns category.

Also, what’s with the timing, huh? Three Inked girls pregnant at the same time? What’s up with that?

I get that Tyler’s son would want a little brother or sister to play with, and Zane and Dakota got married, which meant they were seriously thinking about it—probably—but I didn’t think Rafe and Megan were in any real hurry to have kids. If anything, I thought Megan was kind of scared of the idea.

Personally, I’d have bet on Dylan and Tessa getting preggers first, but come to think of it, they have Dylan’s little brothers. They’re already set, I guess. They can wait a while longer to have their own.

I love babies. They are the cutest things. And I’d love to make wedding dresses for the Inked Brotherhood girls. If they’d like me to. I’m not as close to them as I am to the Damage girls, but I do love them all. One thing you can say about these pretty, wounded boys is that they have good taste in girls.

All except one, that is. Otherwise he’d have called me, right?

I’m sitting on my bed, a drawing pad propped on my knees, retouching a design of a pair of long, slinky pants, but my mind isn’t on it. I glance at my sewing table, at the glittering, beautiful fabrics waiting for me to shape them into funky clothes, and sigh.

It has been like this since Tuesday. Since I walked out of Ocean’s apartment.

I tried not to ask about him, not to be interested, but information has filtered in anyway. Happens when you hang out with his friends. Looks like Jason’s sicker than he himself thought. It’s the flu, it seems, and there was an emergency trip to the doctor’s when the fever wouldn’t go down. Jesse was there, too, and Amber.

They didn’t tell me, as I was so upset with Ocean.

Crap.

Ι stab my pen into the paper, then start shading in one side of the pants. I add a flare at the hem. Then a pattern of flowers.

Yes, I was angry when I left his apartment. Confused. Thrown off my game. The fact he’s been taking care of Jason doesn’t change that.

My mind keeps going back to that night in his apartment. Could it be I overreacted? That my attraction to him blinded me to what was really going on? Was he sad over something else, and I pushed him too hard to talk to me?

“Not now,”
he’d said when I’d walked into his room. Had I waited a little, would he have told me what was on his mind?

But why should I let him snark at me when I was only trying to help him? That’s dangerous territory. He should explain. He should apologize.

In my mind I see his eyes, blue like a slivers of summer sky, and that sharp edge of sadness in them, and my heart hurts.

Yeah, dangerous.

Before this went down, I’d started on a present for him. Two, actually. A long-sleeved T-shirt, and fingerless gloves. I’ve left them unfinished.

Everything between us feels unfinished. Only starting.

Or already ending?

I put down my drawing pad and grab my pack of cards. It’s not the first time today I’m spreading them, hoping for some insight, some clue. About him. About his reaction.

And mine.

The Magician card keeps coming up, and this time is no exception. I study his youthful face, his determined expression as he lifts a scepter in a lush garden, the symbol of eternity hovering over his head. He looks a bit like Ocean, I think. If his hair was blue, perhaps.

His belt is a snake biting its own tail, another symbol for the eternal, and he has all the symbols of the deck laid out in front of him: the sword, the cup, the rod and the pentagram.

Beginnings. Initiation. Call to adventure.

Is this him? Or me?

What was my question again?
Damn.

I close my eyes, picture Ocean as he stood in front of me in his tiny kitchenette, bright eyes flashing, soft lips parted. How he looked when he asked if I find Jason pretty. When he told me he’d show me what he likes.

What he tasted like. What his scent was.

Who is he, deep inside? What made him so sad and angry? What don’t I know or can’t begin to guess?

I shuffle the cards again, cut the deck three times, spread three more cards.

Show me.

I flip the first card and stare at the Five of Cups. My hand shakes a little as I put it back down and stare at the young man standing in an empty landscape, facing away, surrounded by the discarded cups. His shoulders are hunched, his head bowed. He looks so heartbreakingly lonely.

I know what this card means. Regret. Unhappiness. Despair. Something that is lost.

Is this what you want to tell me? He’s alone and unhappy?

What about me? What should I do? Worrying at my lower lip with my teeth, I flip the second card. The Eight of Swords.

A girl, blindfolded and bound, surrounded by a forest of swords.

Denial. Imprisonment. Isolation.

So what are you saying, cards? I’m being blind?

Come to think of it, isn’t this the question I’ve been asking myself already? If I missed something? Is this my answer?

A heaviness is settling on my chest. I flip the last card and place it in the middle of the other two.

The Magician.

I start to laugh. I push away the three cards, scattering them, and lean back, still laughing, a little hysterically.

New beginnings. Adventure.

Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll call him. Just to see what he has to say.