Promise Me This (Between Breaths 4)

Me: You put a new tire on my car????? Whoa, how and when did that happen?

I mean, Bennett was a good guy, no doubt, but that went above and beyond.

Bennett: Not me. Nate. I followed him while he drove your car to the service station this morning. He got you a new tire and then drove your car back to your house.

Me: Square did that?

Bennett: Yup.

Me: I’m speechless.

Bennett: He’s a good guy. Just a little misguided.

I almost texted something sarcastic back but held myself in check.

Me: Yeah. Thanks for helping. See you at work.

I sank back on my couch completely dumbfounded. I wondered what time Nate had left. Had he waited until the morning and then called Bennett to help him out? My heart was pounding as my head went through a series of emotions ranging from gratitude to affection. Why would he do that for me? I needed to not read into this, but it was certainly a very kind gesture.

I stood up and headed to the kitchen. I needed to make some coffee so I could think straight. Then I jumped in the shower to get ready for work. I had a morning shift and then some studying to do in the afternoon for my Digital Media class.

After I took my first sip and got my brain in some semblance of working order, I reached for my phone to text Nate.

Me: I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was completely surprised, Square. I’ll pay you back. Thank you!

My heart pounded as I waited on his reply.

Nate: Consider it a gift. Someone had to set your ass straight and force you to get a new tire.

I couldn’t help grinning.

Me: Ha ha. Well, I appreciate it. Thank you again.

I stopped short of saying, for last night. For everything. That would make me sound like a Hallmark card and neither of us needed that.

Nate: I was glad to do it, Blue. Have a good day.

Not only was my brain working slowly this morning, but so was my body. I got into work in enough time that Oliver didn’t get on my case about it. It was up to me to open the shop and get things rolling.

All the artists were on today. Weekends were busy at Raw Ink, so we were doubled up at the front desk as well, but Emmy wasn’t due in for a couple of hours.

I put on a fresh pot of coffee, stocked the fridge with more sodas, and laid out the donuts and muffins I brought from a local bakery—which were a weekend-only indulgence, considering almost all of these guys kept themselves lean and fit.

As I was laying out disposable covers for the stations up front, the artists began showing up to work. Lila winked at me as she walked by and when I looked toward the front of the shop, Dex was heading my way, bags under his eyes, his mouth drawn tight.

I braced myself against one of the chairs.

“I’m sorry,” he said, immediately. “Won’t happen again.”

I was still pissed at him for the way he’d acted. I wanted to tell him to stop partying so hard and to get himself completely straight on where we stood, but I was sure the guys would get on his case about it today. In fact I knew they would, because over Dex’s shoulder Cory had strode in the door and was already shaking his head in our direction.

“Okay, Dex,” I said. “We’re cool, for now.”

I couldn’t wait for Emmy to get her butt in here today so I could tell her what happened last night and get her advice. Maybe not the sex part, but definitely the car part.

Oliver strode to the front desk as I was pulling up the schedule. “We’ve got a full calendar today. But I also need you to print some things for the art festival.”

“Got it,” I said.

The guys dreaded the yearly art festival, which included works from local artists, the university, and businesses. My photos would be on display from my photography assignment and the tattoo shop had its own tent where the artists’ portfolios were spotlighted, and people could get some light tattooing and piercing. The hardest thing about it was keeping everything sanitized and since Oliver was such a stickler for it, most people who showed up were encouraged to make appointments to have work done.

Our tent was usually overcrowded because people in the community who wouldn’t normally walk into a tattoo shop are curious enough to watch it being done at festivals. The artists drew straws over who had to work the event and normally Oliver chose two or three of them on a rotating shift. He hadn’t decided this year’s lineup yet.

When Bennett came through the door he greeted me and said, “You good?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Thanks again. Do you . . .”

He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Do you know how much a tire costs?”

“You know what, Jessie? I wouldn’t sweat it,” he said. “Nate wouldn’t take your money anyway. Besides, it would be chump change to him, you know that. Just accept it and be done with it.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Did he . . .” Bennett trailed off as he considered me and I wondered just what in the hell he wanted to ask. “Never mind. None of my business.”

I let out the breath I was holding. I so didn’t want to go there with Bennett, even though he might be able to give me good advice. But it’d be too damn awkward.

When Emmy breezed through the door five minutes late, I smiled big. “Better get your ass over here before Oliver sees you.”

She clunked her way behind the desk. “Sorry, I helped get one of our new terrier mixes adopted today.”

Emmy and those damn animals.

She put away her coat and purse while looking over the waiting room, which was getting full from walk-ins. “Any dawn-breakers?”