I paid for my meal and then ventured to the open dining area to take a seat. It wasn’t prime lunch time, so it was semi-empty enough for me to relax and let my mind drift.
Back to the candle shop.
Damn that space for being so intriguing, cause now I was wondering about it. Well… daydreaming, really.
I didn’t need money, thankfully, so I didn’t have to give a job much consideration. The work force was not ready for me, nor was I ready for it.
I had some acclimating to do first.
What I could use, was a hobby – one I could safely engage from the privacy of my own space, without anybody getting into my damn business. Honestly… I was getting a little excited about the thought of figuring out the whole process without much instruction, blending and formulating my own scents.
I did good with something to focus on.
Unfortunately, the bell over the front door drew my attention, breaking me away from my thoughts. My eyes instinctively went to the new arrival, going wide for a moment at the familiar sight of locs, a beard, and dark bronzed skin.
Tristan.
I watched, enthralled, as he interacted with the woman behind the counter – Charlie, according to him. They talked and laughed while he ordered his food, their conversation drawing Nixon back out to the front to join the fun for a few moments before Tristan moved on, to take a seat and wait for his meal.
I’d already looked away, pretending to bury my attention in my phone, but of course he spotted me.
“Ms. Not Interested,” he said, and I looked up in time to see him taking it upon himself to slip into the seat across from me in the booth I’d claimed. “So I did end up seeing you around.”
I shrugged. “That’s not really a great feat, since I do live in the neighborhood. Also, you know my actual name, so…”
“I do,” he conceded, his lips spreading into a grin that brought inappropriate things to mind. “But I so enjoy reminding you of that, since you did, indeed, end up quite interested.”
“In your talent as an artist. Not your dick,” I said bluntly, even though I was, actually, very much interested in that.
“Fair enough. Although…” he glanced around, then leaned across the table a bit. “You should know… I’m about forty percent sure you’re actually trying to convince yourself of that.”
I smirked. “Forty? That’s pretty damn confident.”
“I think it’s pretty solid too. Am I right?”
“This wouldn’t be much fun if I just told you, now would it?” I asked, lacing my fingers together and propping my elbows on the table as I leaned in a bit myself. “You’ll have to figure it out. And risk me stabbing you in the process, if you’re wrong.”
One eyebrow shot up. “Stabbing? Damn. I know you’re mysterious and all, but…”
“You’re the one who sat down to flirt with a stranger,” I reminded him, glancing up as a staff member brought out my food, which I’d luckily ordered to go. “Don’t act scandalized now.”
He chuckled. “Nah, that’s not it. I’m just not sure what it says about me that the threat of being stabbed has me even more interested in your lack of interest.”
“You should examine that,” I said, rising with my food tucked in one arm, umbrella tucked in the other. “By yourself.”
I left him sitting there laughing, knowing he couldn’t follow me without leaving his own food behind – and as good as this place smelled, he wasn’t doing that.
The endless storm had picked up, so I spent a few moments underneath the awning outside the restaurant getting myself situated – wristlet and food secured, umbrella held high to protect from the elements.
That didn’t last long.
I’d barely made it half a block when a sudden, heavy gust flipped my umbrella inside-out, making a complete mockery of the “heavy duty” claim that had been all over the packaging. Foolishly, I struggled with it for a few moments, working to get it flipped back into the right position while huge drops of rain pelted me from what seemed like all sides.
Finally, after a couple of tries, I managed to flip it back the way it was meant to be.
Only for it to happen again a few steps later.
“Goddamn it!” I yelled… at the weather, I guess, only to hear a rumble of laughter start up from behind me. When I turned around, Tristan was sauntering in my direction, food in hand, holding an umbrella that looked a helluva lot more heavy duty than mine.
“You look like you could use somebody to come to your rescue,” he teased, holding his big ass, tough ass umbrella over both of us. “You’re lucky the hail already passed.”
I blew out a sigh, dumping the useless combination of metal and cutesy fabric in a nearby trashcan before wiping my face dry with the sleeve of my hoodie. “Thank you,” I told him, peering at my bag to make sure my food was still safely secured in the recyclable containers it all came in. “I’ve never had that happen to me before.”
“I could tell,” he chuckled. “I’ve got you from here.”
Immediately, I shook my head. “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “Going out of your way.”
He shrugged. “You passing UG?”
“The coffeehouse? Uh… yeah.”
“That’s not out of my way at all then. Let me at least get you there.”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
He switched the umbrella to the same side where his food was looped over his arm and put a hand at the small of my back, easily steering me like we knew each other.
Entirely too familiar.
I wanted to mind it, a lot.
The fact that I didn’t made me temper my reaction, simply moving away from his touch without mentioning it. I really didn’t want him walking me “home” either, but if he was already going that way I wasn’t about to get soaked for the fun of it.
I also wasn’t about to argue while my food got cold.
“How is the tat?” he asked, breaking the silence between us. “You still happy with it? Feeling good about it?”
I haven’t wanted to carve off a chunk of my skin even once since I got it was the real answer, but since I didn’t think that would go over well, I nodded.
“I’m happy. Thank you again.”
“You ain’t gotta thank me, sweetheart. It was a nice challenge,” he explained, stopping to wait for the crosswalk signal before we crossed the next street. “Felt a little bad covering up your other work. Must’ve been an ugly breakup.”
“Very.” As soon as the walk signal popped up, I moved, with Tristan falling into step right beside me. “Nightmare inducing.”
“Damn. Was there like… abuse or something?”
“You’re nosy,” I said, stopping in my tracks to face him directly.
“My bad. I prefer to think of it as simple curiosity. Power of deduction.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means… shit, if I’d left an abusive relationship I’d be getting new tats and being a mystery person too,” he shrugged.
I met his gaze, considering his words – the accuracy in his framing of a past he knew nothing about. “Yeah. It’s cool.”