Chapter Eight
Asher
"Asher!" James shouts across the shop. "Phone."
"Shit," I curse, glancing at my client. I'm in the middle of finishing his back piece. Just a few more lines and it'll be done.
"Go," Clayton says. "I need a break anyway."
I set my gun down on my sterile tray and strip off my gloves. "Don't get up," I warn him even though he knows better. We've been working on this piece for the last six months. It's personal for him, something he isn't going to risk fucking up. The instruction is instinctive though.
"Won't," he says. He's an interesting man. Doesn't say much when he's in my chair. If I didn't see his face staring back at me from every damn magazine Kennedy likes to browse while we're in line at the grocery store, I wouldn't have ever known he's a wildly popular musician.
I toss my gloves in the trash and then head toward the phone hanging on the wall just outside my workstation.
"Asher," I say into the receiver.
"Hey!" Caroline says. "Um, you should probably get over here."
"Why?"
"Kennedy has a certified letter from the Braxton Literary Foundation."
"Shit," I curse, glancing at the clock. She's in class for another hour. That should give me time to finish up here and get to the apartment before she does. "Don't let her see it until I get there," I tell Caroline anyway…just in case I'm wrong.
"I won't," she promises and then she pauses. "It's a thick envelope, Asher."
Jesus. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I hope like hell it's good news. Kennedy has been driving herself crazy for the last week and a half, waiting for word. If she doesn't place, she's going to be devastated.
We're headed to New York for the next three years either way. We found out a couple weeks ago that she was accepted at Columbia as a transfer student for her sophomore year. I think Jared pulled a few strings to get her answer early because we expected not to know anything for another two months.
I'm so proud of her. Even if she doesn't place, I have no doubts that she'll smash every goal she's set for herself. With a gift like hers, anything else is an impossibility.
She and Jared have worked hard the last couple of months. Despite their rocky start, they get along well. She values his opinion. I think it's cute how badly she wants to impress him. If Kennedy has a hero, it might just be her new brother-in-law. I don't mind. I know she belongs to me as completely as I belong to her.
The last three months of my life have been the best damn three months of my life by miles. I never realized how much I could love even the little intimacies in a relationship…arguing over what to watch, or what to have for dinner, seeing her shit all mixed up with mine in the laundry basket, or finding her notebooks scattered around the apartment.
Caroline moved in with Jared a few days after Sophie and Trick's wedding. Kennedy and I split our time between my place and their apartment. Since their apartment is closer to campus, we spend most of the week there. I don't mind.
Coming home to my girl every day, or seeing her snuggled up in the corner here, writing in her journal while I work, is perfection. She is perfection.
She married me two months ago, right before Christmas. I was willing to wait, give her a big ass wedding, but she didn't want that. She said she just wanted to be mine. So we got married at the courthouse with Caroline and Jared as our witnesses and her family on Facetime.
Seeing my ring on her finger still makes me hard as a rock.
I scrub my hands in the sink I share with Lyndon and Travis before ducking back into my booth to finish Clayton's piece. He's right where I left him. Doesn't look like he's moved at all.
"You ready to finish this?" I ask him.
"Yep," he says, making me chuckle.
I slide on a new pair of gloves and then pick up where I left off, shading in the last couple lines. The piece is a woman with her head tilted back, a breath away from kissing a ghost. It's intricate and detailed as hell, but it looks amazing. I don't know who the chick is, but she obviously means a lot to him.
It takes about half an hour to finish the piece and get him cleaned up and ready to go.
"When are you leaving?" he asks as he pulls his shirt back on over his head.
"July."
He jerks his chin in a nod. "I'll be back before then. Got another piece I want you to do for me before this next tour kicks off."
"Cool. Have James book you and we'll go over it and get it sketched out for you."
"Cool." He gives me a fist bump and then heads out.
I clean up my station, tossing the disposable shit in the biohazard bin, and then dropping everything else off next to the autoclave to be cleaned. James will sanitize and wipe everything down for me once he takes care of Clayton. I'll do it again before my next client. We keep shit clean here.
Once I'm finished, I snag my keys and head out.
The drive to the apartment takes half an hour. Traffic is moving slow. By the time I pull up, Kennedy's car is already in her spot. I pull in beside her and hop out.
"Hey," she says, looking up from the tv when I make it upstairs.
"Hi," Caroline says from beside her. Meeko is sprawled out with his head in her lap and his legs in the air. He stays with her most of the time. When he's here with us, he's usually passed out on her bed. Kennedy moves so much in her sleep he refuses to sleep on the bed with her. I have to sleep halfway on top of her to keep her still.
"Hey." I drop my keys on the entryway table and then cross to Kennedy.