is face and kiss him goodnight.
But what if he never lets me in all the way?
***
The next day at the convention, as I set up my stall, I look for Ocean but can’t see him anywhere. After a few moments of looking around and not finding him, I abandon Amber with my stuff and walk among the stalls. The door is open, customers and curious passersby already filing in, but he’s not at his table.
Asher Devlin is there, his little son in his arms and his wife, Audrey, by his side. He nods at me, and I coo at the baby.
“Have you guys seen Ocean?” I stroke the baby’s cheek, and he sticks his tongue out at me. “Is he around?”
“Haven’t seen him,” Audrey says, giving me a smile.
I smile back, but I’m pulling out my phone to call him when he walks into the shop, his face set in a stony mask.
My stomach drops.
“Excuse me,” I mutter and start after him. “Blue.”
He turns, and some of the bad humor slips off his face. One side of his mouth curls up. “Kay.”
Aw. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I overslept because of the painkillers. Holy shit, they’re strong. And then I talked to Mom’s doctor and…” His jaw clenches, and his eyes darken. “And it’ll be fine.”
He’s a terrible liar. It’s obvious the news isn’t good.
“Is she worse off than he thought? Or…” An almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Or he wants more money than he said before?”
His chin dips to his chest. “I’ll find the money. Don’t worry about it.”
But how?
A customer joins us and starts asking him about designs and prices, and I step away, leaving him to work.
Soon the shop is full, and my clothes are selling like hotcakes. I’m loving this so hard. When the girls exclaim over my hats, or the guys hold up T-shirts to choose from, or the kids grab the gloves and won’t let go until their parents buy them.
Loving it, I tell you.
And then I look across the room at Ocean’s stand, and all I want is to wrap my arms around him and convince him to kiss me, and trust me, and keep me.
Being in love is exhausting.
Amber was right. I love him. Damn, this wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s frightening, and every instinct I possess tells me to stop and walk away. To laugh it off. To ask the cards for guidance.
But I’ve tried all that, and it didn’t work. I look at this tousled blue hair and hooded eyes, that soft mouth and hard jaw, and I want to fall into him, sink deep.
Why all the mixed signals? Does he want to be with me or not? It’s obvious I wasn’t only a passing fuckbuddy. The way he looks at me, the way he touches me, that he worries about me, it’s all there.
Why won’t he talk to me? I’ve told him I believe in him. There’s only one thing left to tell him: my realization about how I feel about him.
That now I believe in love.
***
The doors close at nine. I’m sold out again, and I’m starting to think this clothes selling business might work out, after all. I should add more items to Amber’s website. The gloves and hats sold much better than I thought.
God, I’m dying to see Ocean in his T-shirt. I glance over at his stall, and there he is, partly hidden by his last customer who’s getting a small tattoo on her forearm. Words. Maybe something or someone important to her.