If Only (2 page)

The small cluster of alarm
dissipates, leaving only my brother and me.

“
Dude?
”
I say, with my arms stretched out either side of me.

His brows pull tight.
“What?”

“Why didn’t you get her
information?”

“We can afford new wheels,
she’s probably still in school.”

“No, I don’t mean for that.”

“What then?”

“Fuck it!” I fiercely rub my
face with both hands. Arrggh! Not a good move, pain surges through my shoulder.
Damn it.

“What’s your problem? Why
would I ... oh,” he finishes in a small voice.

“Fuck, man.”

“Seriously, bro, how should
I have known? I could go after her?” he suggests, thumbing in the direction she
drove off in.

“Forget it.” I walk over to
check the damage done to my motorcycle.

Who was she?

“Su, you will not believe what just happened,” I say,
rushing past her the moment she opens the front door.

“What? What’s up? You look
seriously freaked out.”

I sit on a chair at the
kitchen table, the first one I can get to. My head cupped in my hands and my
elbows propped on my knees, I take a deep breath. All of a sudden, it’s fully
sunk in. I draw in some more air.

“Take your time and tell me
about it,” she says, sitting on a chair beside me, softly stroking up and down
my spine.

After a few long moments, I
sit up on a hard exhale and start to shrug out of my jacket. “Some guy on a
motorcycle almost collided with me on my way here. An impatient asshole was
passing me and nearly went into the side of my bug. I had to swerve, but then I
almost hit another man who was heading my way. He tried to get out of the way
and skidded onto the sidewalk, finished up flat on his back. He was confused
for a bit, maybe he even passed out, I don’t know. By the time I pulled myself
together and got out of my car, he was alert. He was standing when I left. The
jackass who caused it didn’t even stop.”

“You’re not hurt, right?”

“No, I’m just a little
shaken. His brother was there with him, thank God. They didn’t take my
insurance information, or anything, so I think that’ll be the end of it.”
Standing up, I walk over to the sink and fill a glass with water. I gulp it all
down. Damn, I needed that. Lolling my head back, I close my eyes and take
another long, slow breath. Exhaling, some tension leaves me, I feel calmer…

I see his face.

My eyelids snap open.
Laughing as I recall the stranger’s words, I turn to Su. “He thought I was an
angel, at first.” I smile, slumping back against the counter.

“Obviously he thought he’d
died and gone to heaven.”

“He did ask me if he was
dead. Su, he was beautiful. I almost lost my mind when he took off his helmet –
I thought
I
was gonna pass out. Then, I stood there, like an idiot, just
staring at him. Thankfully, he didn’t notice, he was looking in the opposite direction
to where I was. I forced myself to move and went over to him, to see if he was
okay. He could have been seriously hurt, my heart was still racing from panic,
and all I could think was
shit,
he’s hot!
”

She chuckles.
“Priorities, huh?
Maybe it was him that had your heart
racing, not the near collision.”

“It’s a possibility, I’ve
never been
stunned
by a guy’s appearance before. He had the most amazing
eyes, so warm and dark, like coffee beans. His features and bone structure were
perfectly masculine, you know, defined, but there was softness to the lines of
his face. Clean shaven with shortly cropped ink-black hair, he was pretty
unbelievable.”

“You should’ve gotten his
number,” she says, with a slender brow quirking up over a humored
mahogany-brown eye.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure Nick
would love that. I’m sure
he
would’ve loved that. “I’m sorry we almost
killed each other, but can I get your number anyway?”” She giggles, shaking her
head. “His brother was so nice about it all, they both were.”

“Was the other one cute?”
Leaning back in her chair, she crosses one leg over the other at the thighs,
eager to hear more.

“Priorities,
huh?”

“These are essential
details. We never know when we might need them.”

“Of course, silly me, how
could I not think of that? They looked similar in their features, actually, but
he was a couple inches shorter with slightly lighter eyes, stubble and straight
brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had a tattoo on his neck, too. Maybe
I should’ve given my cell phone number, to be polite. Or even stayed longer to
make sure everything really was okay. Shit, that’s what I should’ve done.”

“Do ya think they live
nearby?”

“I’ve never seen them
before. I’d definitely remember the tall, hot one if I had. It was on Gough
Street, but they could’ve just been passing through. I don’t even know where
his brother came from all of a sudden, maybe they live there. I could’ve
avoided it all together; it was only at the last minute I decided not to make a
left onto Broadway. I wish I had now.” I walk over to the table and pick up the
paper bag I dropped on it when I sat down. “Well, that’s that, I guess, there’s
nothing more I can do. These pancakes will need re-heating.” Dammit, I
should’ve stayed. Made certain he was okay. Why didn’t I do that?

“Right, clear your mind, I’m
sure he’s fine. You said he was standing when you left.”

“Yeah, but you never know,
he could have, I don’t know, internal bleeding or something.”

“If he seemed fine, Callie, then he probably is. C’mon,
distraction time, let’s talk vacation clothes.”

After an afternoon of girlie chatter, I leave Su’s to
head over to my boyfriend’s place. When I first get in my car, I feel tense for
a moment. It’s the closest I’ve come to anything like that happening to me, but
I guess I should be grateful it was an
almost
collision
, and
nobody was seriously hurt. I’ll take a short detour, anyway.

As I drive down Gough
Street, I go by the spot on the sidewalk where I saw the guy. Now I recall his
black, red and gray Honda Fireblade. I know motorcycles quite well, since
Nick’s a fanatic. I’m not sure what I expected to get out of coming this way,
but it hasn’t made any difference; I still don’t know more than I did when I
left Su’s. It’s time to put it out of my head. I wonder if he does live close
by.

Speeding up, I continue my
journey. Nick and his best friend recently moved into an old warehouse
building, which has been converted into apartments, and I’m going to see the
finishing touches to the artwork on his bedroom wall.

When I arrive, Dylan answers
the door. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask him, as he passes me.

“I’m just going to pick up
Tara, but I’ll be back to get your verdict.” He beams with pride.

“Okay, cool, see you soon.”

 I walk into the large
open living area, and Nick calls out to me, “Hey, C, I’m in here.” I head up
the stairs and into his bedroom. The moment I enter, I’m engulfed by the
familiar smell of fresh paint. Something not so familiar has me frozen at the
doorway. 

Dylan’s been working on the
wall for two weeks around his job, and every time I’ve visited something new
has been added. He started with graffiti and then went on to pictures. My
favorite so far has been the image of
Jack Nicolson
, menacingly sticking
his head through a broken door, from the movie
The Shining
. It’s freaky
to look at, because it’s so well done, but I like it nonetheless.

Today, there’s an unexpected
addition.

“I’m up there,” I say,
hardly able to believe my own eyes. I take a couple of steps closer.

“Yeah, it’s hot, huh?” he
says, a smile evident in his voice.

“Omigod, I can’t believe
it.” It’s me with my pink hair, in my favorite white mini dress, and I’m even
striking a hand-on-hip sexy pose.

Coming up behind me, Nick
snakes his hands around my waist and pulls me back against him. “It’s the
perfect finishing touch.” 

I can’t seem to lose the
enormous grin on my face. “It sure beats the photos I have up of you.”

He chuckles as he leans down
and places a light kiss on the side of my neck. “The paint smells a little
strong now, but it’ll ease soon enough. Let’s go hang down stairs.”

This is the biggest
compliment anyone has ever paid me in my life. A realistic image of me is on my
boyfriend’s bedroom wall. How freakin’ cool is that?

Nick pours us some cold
sodas and sits on a chair at the kitchen table. I plant myself on his lap. “I
almost had an accident on my way to Su’s.” My joy over the artwork temporarily
cleared my head of what happened earlier, but now it’s returned. Nick’s
deep-frown of concern has me quickly recapping the story for him.

By the time I’m finished,
Dylan’s here with his girlfriend, and the conversation switches back to the
animated version of me, he completed today. I did wonder why my fabulous man
was too busy to see me over the past two days. Still sitting on his lap, I give
Nick the tightest, longest hug, ever.

Once the excitement and
interest simmers, Tara asks me about my up and coming vacation. I fill her in,
but for some reason, I keep seeing coffee bean brown eyes. I can’t seem to
erase them from my mind. 

I didn’t even get the guy’s
name.

I’m sitting at the front desk in the shop, adding the
finishing touches to a sketch for my buddy’s tat. Just as I complete the work, Dane
stealthily walks in and approaches me with the confidence and grace that
justify his choice of body art. His pretty-boy hazel eyes lock on the image, as
he leans across the counter with his hands braced atop it. “That’s the shit,”
he says, nodding his head in approval, the dreadlocks that go on for miles
hanging over his shoulders.

It’s a panther, designed in
a way to make it look as though it’s coming out of his torso, tearing through
his flesh with its claws and teeth.

“Right, let’s do this,” I
say, standing up from my seat.

Once we’re both sitting on
chairs, me behind Dane and the stencil transferred onto the left side of his
lower back, I snap on my gloves and turn on the tattoo machine. The familiar
buzzing sound replaces the silence in the studio, and I start the outline, the
needles punching the black ink into his cocoa colored skin.

“Where’d you go last night?
Makayla was lookin’ for you. What’s up with that girl?” he asks.

As it stands, we’re the only
ones here, because it’s after hours now, so our conversation is
no-holds-barred. “That’s exactly why I left. That chick’s on the lookout for a
boyfriend, no way in hell am I messin’ with her, fuck no. I don’t care how hot
she is. A.J. hooked me up with entrance to the VIP section of that new casino
on Market Street. I figured the ink might not go down well, so I headed home
and changed into something more appropriate, then went to check out the place.”

“How’d it go? Win anything?”

“Didn’t
even get to play.
I was headed
for a game of Blackjack, and there’s this woman playing Roulette at a table I
was passin.’ She’s standing there in a tight-ass little black dress and
five-inch red stilettos, and I’m looking at them thinking
how the fuck does
she walk in those?
Real pretty lady, she looked like Jada Pinkett only
taller. I walked over and stood next to her thinking to myself
this seems
like a
good place to start.
She leans into me and
whispers,
“Why are all you cute men gay?”

Dane guffaws, his whole body
shaking with it. I abruptly stop inking him. “That’s some fucked up shit,” he
says, through his fit of humor.

“Some fucked up shit if you
do that again, dude, you almost messed with the line.”

He’s still laughing. The
memory of it has me chuckling, too, that’s a whole bunch of what-the-fuck right
there. I’ve never been asked that before.

“So what happened?” he asks,
as his amusement eases.

I get back to the tat. “I
said, “I’m not gay.” She said, “You’ve got to be, I saw the way you looked at
my high heels and you’ve got style.” I’m like, “I’m in pants and a button-down.
And why would a
gay guy
like your pumps? I’ll show you I’m not gay, who
you here with?” She nodded in the direction of a couple ladies on the other
side of the table and hit me with, “I’m a big girl. I don’t have to stay here
with them.” We left right then, went to her place and, dude, I fucked the shit
out of her. And I did
not
let those stilettos come off.”

Dane chuckles, I pause
again. “What in the hell made her think you were gay? That’s ridiculous.”

“I thought so, too, but she
knows differently now. She was hot, man, bangin’ body.”

“Jada Pinkett!
Damn
,”
he says, with full appreciation evident in his tone.