Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Each sketch was beautiful and exactly what I’d pictured, only better. One in particular stood out for me.
I pointed at the drawing on the top sheet. “This one. It’s perfect.” I gave him a winning smile. “You’re my favorite brother-in-law. I don’t know if I’ve told you that.”
His lips kicked up. “You have. But you’ve also said the same to Drey.”
“I have not,” I denied, going for indignant.
Caelan snorted. “Sure.”
I waited in silence while he readied everything he’d need, washed his hands, pulled on disposable gloves, and then cleaned my inner wrist in preparation for the tattoo. Once he returned to his stool, he placed the transfer over my skin, checked I was happy with the placement etc., and then immediately got to work.
I went very still as the feel of the buzzing tattoo gun hit me. People seemed to experience the sensation in various ways. For me, it felt like I was being continuously scratched by hot cat claws.
It took me a few minutes to push past the discomfort and begin to relax. Only then did I ask Caelan, “What’s the craziest tattoo you’ve ever been asked to do?”
“There’ve been loads of crazy ones,” he replied without meeting my gaze. “A guy once came here asking if I could tattoo squid features onto his face. Said he thought he might have been a squid in a past life.”
I blinked. “Oh. Well.”
“Yeah, I had nothing either.”
“Have you been up to anything interesting this week?”
“Other than work, not really. You?”
“Not much. But my week was instantly brightened when my brother gave me an ultrasound picture of his baby.” I beamed just thinking about it.
“Everything look good with his fiancée and the baby?”
“According to the Ob, all seems good so far.” We were all crossing our fingers and toes that nothing changed in that respect.
He carefully repositioned my arm slightly with a gloved hand. “Have you seen any more of Felicity or Grayden?”
“No. I don’t know what Dax did, but it seems to have worked. I don’t suppose you know, do you?”
“I asked. He answered in monosyllables.”
“At least you got monosyllables,” I muttered. “When I asked, he just stared at me.”
“My brother says very little about a lot of things. He plays his cards close to his chest.” Caelan paused. “Someone stole my car once. This was years ago. I mentioned it to Dax. Four hours later it was back in its parking spot—I still have no clue who took it, who brought it back, or how Dax handled it. He never said. He always handles shit for those under his protection, but he never makes a big deal out of it.”
“What you’re saying is I shouldn’t be offended that he hasn’t enlightened me, because this is just how he is—no one’s an exception.”
“Basically, yes.”
That didn’t make me feel much better. It wasn’t that I expected to be an exception to Dax’s rules, but I had hoped that we could get beyond superficial conversation and share important things. As yet, nothing had changed between us.
We still had a good dynamic. We made time for each other, communicated well, and had a healthy sex life. Though we had the occasional debate, we didn’t argue. But we also still couldn’t be described as friends.
Dax and I might talk about this or that, but never anything deep. More, it was really a chore on his part. He didn’t really want to speak with me about stuff.
Small and casual things that would be harmless to share—that he went to visit his parents, that he’d made plans with his friends, that he was considering buying a new car—I’d find out from others. Why? He simply wouldn’t think to tell me.
I got the sense that it didn’t even occur to him to do so, just as it wouldn’t occur to him to tell a work colleague. As such, I made a point to ask more questions about his day; wanting to get across that I was more interested than he seemed to assume; wanting it to become natural for him to share such basic things.
However, nothing had changed in that respect. He still gave me vague answers. He also still didn’t accept my invitations to spend the sort of time together that would allow a friendship to develop. And I’d steadily reached the conclusion that he didn’t truly want it from me; that he didn’t want me to want anything from him.
“He’s good at making a person feel shut out,” said Caelan. “But he doesn’t do it on purpose, Addison. He’s a good guy. People talk like there’s something missing in him. There isn’t. Never was. He just doesn’t let it all hang out.”
I knew what Caelan was getting at. Being a self-contained person didn’t mean Dax was an incomplete person, or that he was deliberately acting like an asshole. It was simply that parts of him were locked up tight.