What was not shit, but was surprising as shit, was the fact that the guy who tattooed him almost two months before actually called him. At first, Rhett assumed the guy was calling just to check and see how the work was healing. He was surprised when he’d actually checked his voicemail and found out that wasn’t the reason that Rick person was calling at all.
No, the guy actually left the world’s strangest voicemail. It went something along the lines of Bella missed him, but she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t pick herself up and pull herself out of the rut she was in and she was scared as hell of being hurt again and that was the real reason she chased him away. Rick ended the message by basically telling Rhett to get his ass down there, right to the shop, since Bella was an easy target there, grow a set, and fight for her.
Or if not and he didn’t want to see her again, to just disregard the message.
Like hell he was ever going to do that.
Which was the reason he was currently sitting in yet another rental sedan- a different one than the one they’d sodomized before, though he’d tried his best to get it but given that it was last minute, that was a no-go, right outside the tattoo shop.
Rhett heaved a huge, shaky sigh. His hands were so moist they left prints on the steering wheel. He rubbed them on his jeans, right above the spot where the panther tattoo was. The thing actually ached, as though it sensed it was coming back to its origins. Or maybe that was just nerves, sweeping through his entire body, turning his stomach into a sloshing mess and making the rest of his limbs heavy with dread.
He had no idea what he was going to say. Even as he opened the car door and forced himself to walk down the sidewalk to the shop’s front door, he had no fucking clue what he was going to do. He was all out of epic romantic gestures. Not that he’d ever had any in the first place. His romantic game was seriously lacking.
So was his writing skills. He realized he should have written something mushy and romantic, a poem or some shit, or gotten flowers- something… but he didn’t.
He was pretty sure Bella wouldn’t like it.
So, he came as he was, with the only thing he could offer. Himself. Which was really not that great but hell, it was all he had. If Bella really wanted him then she’d take him without romantic gestures or flowers or stupid poems. The only problem with that was that he was pretty damn sure she actually didn’t want him. She’d made that clear. He was there on the off chance, because of Rick’s message, that it wasn’t true. That she’d chased him away because she’d been hurt in the past and it was fucking scary to go through that all again.
He got that.
God, did he ever.
Rhett pushed open the door, even though common sense told him to turn around and leave. Time stopped when he stepped inside. Bella was sitting at that desk, in the same spot he’d seen her at the first time he’d come there. Her head snapped up and her eyes widened with shock. Her gorgeous lips parted.
“You,” she breathed.
And that was pretty much all it took to make his happy stick do a happy dance in his happy fucking pants.
“Yeah,” Rhett managed to choke out past the fist-sized lump in his throat. “Me.” Didn’t we say something like this the first time I came in here? He actually wasn’t sure. His mind turned into a blank slate and he felt like he might actually puddle into a messy nervous sloppy pile all over the floor. Which Bella would, of course, have to clean up.
He did his best to keep himself upright, though the room was suddenly spinning, and his legs were begging to give out. He inhaled sharply and that little bit of oxygen did wonders for his spastic muscles and his churning stomach. A few of the black spots even cleared and his poor lungs got a bit of a break.
“Why are you here?” Bella stood slowly. She gripped the edge of the reception desk. She was protected from him by the huge counter. It just so happened that it came in handy to hold himself up, so Rhett put his elbows down and leaned hard.
Bella didn’t move. She didn’t blink. She seemed frozen in time.
God, she was beautiful.
So beautiful it hurt. Like… right in his pants. Other places too. Everywhere, actually. But especially right in his groin region.
Bella’s eyes narrowed the longer he stood there, his tongue too tied up to say any of the four million things racing through his head. And his heart. Yeah- it was corny, but it was true. He was a hot mess with her, but he was a shitty mess without her.