“I hear you’re still looking for a job?” Mack’s voice pulls me back to the room. It’s pleasant, polite, empathetic even.
It’s hard to imagine she really cares. That she isn’t trying to rub Skye’s unemployment in her face.
Skye doesn’t talk about it, but I can tell it bothers her.
I wish there were something I could do. Besides offering her the front desk gig at Inked Love.
She always turns me down.
She insists she doesn’t want help. Not with employment. Not with her future.
“Yeah, I… uh…” Skye smooths her skirt. “I’m figuring it out. You?”
“Still at the gallery.” Mack pulls her arm over her chest. She wraps her fingers around her upper arm, covering the watercolor butterfly.
Damn, it’s nicer up close. Soft, twilight colors that bleed into each other. “That’s good work.”
“Thanks.” Mack beams. “I designed it.”
“She’s being modest,” Diego says. “She was working on it for weeks.”
Mack shrugs like it’s no big deal. But I know better. She wants people to take her seriously as an artist.
Only she’s never had any success as an artist. She works at a gallery, selling other people’s paintings.
Designing a tattoo—even her tattoo—that’s a big step for her.
“Let’s see then.” Skye forces a smile. “It looks beautiful from here.”
Mack actually blushes. “That isn’t—”
“Come on. You can’t tease us like that.” There’s a tinge of mocking in Skye’s tone.
Mack doesn’t notice it. “If you insist.” She stifles a squeal as she stands. She turns to us, pulls her dress’s strap toward her neck, leans closer.
Skye’s eyes fix on the design.
It is beautiful. Butterflies against the twilight. Blue, purple, and pink bleed together. The watercolor sky sparkles with white stars. A solid black tree line sits beneath it.
A trendy twist on a classic.
Some would call it basic or played out, accuse Mack of being one of those girls who tries too hard to be cool.
That’s Mack.
Always trying hard. Always concerned about appearances. But still beautiful, interesting, enticing.
Fuck, she looks so much like the girl I fell in love with.
That girl held me together when I was falling apart. When I didn’t even know I was falling apart.
I thought she loved me. That she cared about loyalty and family and forever as much as I did.
Was I always wrong about her or did she change?
Did I change?
I don’t know anymore.
“It suits you,” Skye says. “It’s pretty. Trendy. Delicate and bold at the same time.”
Fuck, that’s accurate.
Skye turns to Diego. “Do you have any tattoos? Any Mackenzie designed?”
“Well…” Mack’s hazel eyes light up. Her smile gets wide. Huge. She’s the same girl who loves talking about art. Who loves being the center of attention. Who shines when the spotlight is on her.
I should hate it. Find it repulsive. Roll my eyes.
But I don’t.
Her smile still lights something inside me. Some piece of my heart that still belongs to her.
Mack continues, “there is one. We, uh… But, no, you don’t want to see that, Forest.”
“I don’t?” I try to keep my voice even. Get most of the way there.
“It’s intimate. I don’t want to upset you with stuff you can’t handle.” Her smile is apologetic. Her voice is earnest. She really believes that she doesn’t want to upset me.
That she isn’t saying this in an attempt to hurt me.
That she isn’t twisting the knife in my back.
Mack doesn’t even realize what she’s doing. It’s hard to hate her when she’s oblivious.
Not that I’m capable of hating her. I wish it were that.
It would be easy. To hate her, blame her, believe everything that happened was her fault.
That I was still capable of love.
But I’m not.
It’s not.
Sure, she’s the one who couldn’t keep her pants on. But it means something about us. About me.
No one cheats when they’re perfectly happy, madly in love, completely satisfied.
Mack clears her throat. She looks at us with that serene smile. The one that means she’s exactly where she belongs. “Why don’t you tell us about you? You’re working at a new shop, right? Making more?”
I ignore her attempt to change the subject. “Let’s see it.” I don’t care if the tattoo says Diego’s cock is my favorite thing in the world. I can handle it.
“Forest.” Her tone gets curt for a split second. Then she swallows a sip of wine. Shrugs it off. “Another time.”
Skye looks to me. “I have one from Forest, but I can’t show it off here. Not if I want to keep things PG-13.”
Mack’s eyes flare with jealousy. “Oh.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty hot too.” Skye places her hand on the table. Nods take it.
I intertwine my fingers with hers. Turn to Skye.
It’s funny. I look at my best friend all the time. But I never stare at her like this.
She’s different up close.
Same bright blue eyes. Same thick brown eyelashes. Same short black hair.
Her dad’s hair.
Her mom’s eyes.
Her—
Fuck, I don’t know where she inherited that body. Her mom is slim. Her dad is pure muscle.