Proving Paul's Promise(47)

“Did you forget how to talk?” I ask him. He has an excuse not to use his hands, but he can use his voice. Unless he doesn’t want to.

“I was thinking,” he says, and he transfers his stencil onto my chest.

“Thinking about what?”

He shakes his head. “Did you want to see it before I start?” He waits with his gun poised over my chest.

I shake my head and get still. If Logan drew it, it’s f*cking perfect. I have no doubts about that.

Logan watches what he’s doing closely, so he can’t look at my lips to see what I’m saying. I sit quietly with my eyes closed until he’s done. Sometimes being with Logan makes me feel quiet and peaceful inside. But there’s something on his mind, and I want to know what it is.

He’s finished and lifting his gun away from my skin when Friday walks into the shop. She’s all decked out in her retro gear, and she’s wearing four-inch-high heels with laces that wrap around her naked legs. They stop with fat bows on the backs of her thighs. If I can see her bows, her dress is too f*cking short. She’s wearing bright-red lipstick and heavy eyeliner, and she’s so f*cking pretty. No. She’s f*cking hot. Smoking.

Logan preps my new tattoo for wrapping. “Do you want to see it?” he asks, holding a piece of plastic up.

“No, just cover it,” I tell him.

He puts the wrap on and affixes tape, and I pull my shirt over my head. I am dying to see it, but I want to keep Friday from seeing it for now. I’m sold on her, but she’s not so much on me. I don’t know how she’ll take it.

I go into my office and pull out a piece of paper. On it, I draw little hearts around the edges, because I know she likes them. Then in big block letters I write:

WANTED: WIFE

TERMS NEGOTIABLE

ONLY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE

BOMBSHELLS NEED APPLY

PREFERABLY ONES NAMED FRIDAY

I tack it to the bulletin board and go to my office to wait for her to find it.

A knock sounds on my door, and Logan sticks his head in. “What did you think of it?” he asks.

“Close the door,” I reply.

He closes it behind him and leans against it. I go to the mirror and lift my shirt, and then peel back the plastic. He reads my lips in the mirror. “It’s f*cking beautiful,” I say. “You changed it?” I look over at him and he shrugs.

“It needed changing.”

I don’t understand. “Why?” It was her. She’s the butterfly.

“She’s not broken,” he says. “So that didn’t fit her.”

I scoff. “Okay.”

“That’s why she’s pushing you away, you idiot,” he says.

I don’t understand, so I throw up my hands and wait.

“You see her as this broken little thing that needs you to take care of her. She doesn’t need that. She might have been broken at one time, but she’s not f*cking broken now. She’s put it all back together. She’s made a life for herself, and you’re trying to change it. It’s kind of like she’s built this fortress around herself, brick by f*cking brick, and you might think a fortress is too much, but it’s not. Do you know why?”

I can only sit and stare at him.

“Do you want to know why?” he asks.

I nod. My heart is in my f*cking throat.

“Because she f*cking lives there, Paul. It’s home for her. It’s safe and it’s secure and it’s hers. And she built it with her own two hands. So for you to swoop in and not only try to move her out of her fortress but also to tear it down, you’re f*cking up everything she’s worked for. And that’s why she’s rejecting you. It’s not because she doesn’t love you, because I believe she does. It’s because you need her to change for you, and she’s too smart for that.”

I cough into my fist because words won’t come to me.

“Do you understand, now?” he asks. When he came in, he was all protective and confrontational, but now he’s softening, and he’s looking at me with those blue eyes that look so much like our mother’s.

“I get it,” I say.

He walks toward me and slaps me in the forehead. “You dumb f*cker,” he says. But he laughs and pulls me against his chest and pats my back. He sets me back and looks into my eyes. “Now figure out what you need to do.”

Suddenly, my door flies open, and Friday walks in. She slams the fake advertisement I’d made down on my desk, her palm flat as it strikes the wood. I jump. I can’t help it. There’s no one else in the world who can do this to me.

“What the f*ck is this?” she bites out.

Logan steps around her and closes the door on his way out.

I sit back and rest my elbows on the arms of my chair. I want to reach for her, but I know that would get me nowhere. Instead, I slide the paper from under her hand and tear it slowly into two pieces. I let it fall into the wastebasket.

She steps back and puts her hand over her heart. “Why did you do that?” she whispers. “I liked it.”

My heart leaps. “It wasn’t the right thing to do,” I tell her.

“Why not?” she asks.

I scrub a hand down my face. “Will you let me move into your fortress with you?” I blurt out.

Her brow furrows, and she looks so damn cute that I want to kiss her, but I know I can’t.