Charleigh shakes her head and looks down, hiding her smile. “Pity.”
I’m sure she’s just itching to give me another absurd tattoo. I can practically see cartoon images flit across her eyes.
I walk closer to the counter, “So, can you do it?”
“I can,” she drawls. She’s flipping through the appointment book, barely paying any attention to me. “But the more accurate question iswillI.”
Inwardly groaning, I sigh. “Charleigh, will you design a tattoo for me?”
She snaps the appointment book closed causing me to jump. That small book should not put off that level of sound. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s it? You’ll think about it?”
“Yep,” she smiles. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with a smile like hers. It lights up the entire room. I mean, the room was already bright before since they don’t seem to have any curtains covering their windows. But the way she beams adds an extra sparkle.
“Um, okay,” I respond. I’m not ready to leave yet, so I stroll around the room hoping to see new art plastered on the walls. Wondering if I will be able to pick out the ones that Charleigh has contributed to this unique canvas.
I feel Charleigh’s presence behind me. It’d be hard not to notice her. I feel like everything, aside from my parents, in my life is starting to align. It gives me the courage to ask Charleigh the other thing I came here for.
She’s been on my mind since the last time I came with Marshall. I want to know what makes her tick, what makes her love art the way she so obviously does, and what her fears are. I have a feeling it will be harder to uncover more than anything else.
Finally, I walk back to the counter, where she is still standing trying to hide the fact that she watched my every move as I made my way around the shop. I want to get this done before her uncle makes an appearance. I definitely don’t want to ask her out with him standing over me.
“Is there something else you needed?” Charleigh asks.
“Actually,” I wait until she looks me in the eye. “How would you like to go out on a date?”
She jerks back. “You can’t be serious. We barely even know each other.” Slipping her sketch book open, she takes a pencil and starts drawing. “Besides, I don’t think it would be a very good idea, and I’m much too busy to date anyone.”
I glance over the counter trying to see what she’s working on. “That’s kind of the whole point of a date…to get to know each other.”
“Thanks, I’ll pass,” she deadpans.
I grab the pencil out of her hand and grab one of the business cards off the counter. I jot down my number and hand both the pencil and card to her. “You can’t spend every waking hour in this shop. Live a little. What have you got to lose?”
Not giving her a chance to reply I walk toward the door. Just before opening it, I turn toward her and call out, “If you change your mind text me.” And I leave. The ball’s in her court, now.
* * *
When I getto my car I throw my hand up in the air like that guy in that eighties movie Tonya made me watch when we were dating. I still have it. I thought all my charm and will died when I realized that Tonya no longer wanted me. Hell, it definitely felt like it because I couldn’t get a date at all.
I’m expecting my phone to sound with an alert at any moment. But, it doesn’t. My excitement dulls, but only just a little. I’ll find any reason I can to go to Life in Ink until Charleigh gives me a chance.
The drive home takes twice as long. Apparently everyone in Dallas decided to be on the highways at the very moment I needed to go home. I will never understand why this area is always so backed up. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is, there are always brake lights but nothing to really cause them.
Country music is blaring through my radio as I make my way toward Ashville. Charleigh may not have text me yet, but I know in my gut she will. She wouldn’t have been flirting with me earlier otherwise.
I almost call the guys to see what they are up to but decide to go home instead. Walking through the door, though, I wish I would have gone anywhere else. The words being slung from my parents makes it sound like a warzone has taken over our living room.
“What do you mean he hasn’t taken care of it yet,” my father yells.
“As far as I know he hasn’t even tried to contact Tonya. So, that’s something you’ll have to take up with him.” My mother shrieks.
I softly close the door, trying not to make a sound. I have no doubt they are talking about me. And I don’t feel like listening to their shit.
I try to sneak past the opening to get to the stairs, but my dad must catch the movement out of the corner of his eyes. “Jake, get in here,” he bellows.
My shoulders sag. So much for avoiding this. “Yes, sir.”