Under His Skin (18 page)

“That makes sense.” She lifted another bottle and her eyebrows rose. “Um, why would you need Viagra? Your middle name is bunny.”

Heat crawled up the back of his neck. “Um, well.” He stared at the little blue pills, each taunting him. Leaning his cane up against the door, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I had some problems,” he admitted.

Pandora’s eyes widened. Twin spots of color blossomed on her cheeks. “Oh, sorry. That was an ass thing to say.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled.

“Guys get a rough break when it comes to faking it, I guess. There’s no pulling off an erection if you aren’t into it. At least if it’s not working for me, I can moan a little and fake it.” Her head snapped up. “Not that I’ve had to, um, do that with you. I haven’t, actually. This is awkward.”

Brian snorted and laughed. He’d had a few girls fake it on him enough to know that with Pandora it was real. While discussing his issues was not on his list of things to do today, he appreciated her attempt to blow it off. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him. She pressed her face against his shoulder and giggled.

He couldn’t help laughing at her, laughing at herself.

“Thanks,” he said when they’d both had a laugh. “If you want me to tell you, I will, but I won’t lie, it’s awkward.” He traced the outline of a tattoo on her shoulder, following it down her arm into another image.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

The call with Anne flashed in his mind and his body chilled.

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. “I had massive survivor’s guilt. It’s been a problem across the board for me. It, um, made, ah—”

Pandora laid her cheek against his shoulder and gazed up at him with an impish smile. “Being intimate?”

“Yes, that. I couldn’t do it. My shrink said I had to believe that it wasn’t my fault I survived, that I hadn’t injured my, um, package.”

“It was all in your head?” She winced and he laughed.

“Yeah. Pills didn’t work, it was something I had to figure it out for myself.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t think I’m lame or anything, but uh, I haven’t been able to since before the accident.”

He watched her and knew the moment she wrapped her head around what he was saying. She straightened and looked up at him.

“I didn’t know how to tell you that. I know it’s weird, but if I can’t get it up, it’s not you.”

The only sound in the bathroom was Gibson scratching. Neither of them moved or spoke. He studied her collarbone where the bruises were fading to yellows and greens, how they blended into the tattoos curling over her shoulders. Anyone who didn’t know ink would assume they were part of the design. An odd part, but something that could be ignored.

Her hand cupped his cheek, applying enough pressure to bring his face around to hers. Lifting herself up on her toes, she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Bending his neck, he relaxed into it.

She yelped and pulled away, one hand pressed to her mouth.

“Shit.” Cupping her face, he tasted blood on his tongue.

“No, no, it’s okay.” She tried to fend his hands off, but stood there and let him wipe away the blood with a tissue.

“They should have put stitches in your lip,” he grumbled. It was a deep gash. He hadn’t kissed her for fear of breaking it back open.

“It’s fine,” she said, a thread of annoyance evident in her voice. He knew she didn’t like being fussed over, but he couldn’t help it.

She grabbed his hands and put them at her waist, silently asking him to hold her. He backed her up against the bathroom sink and wrapped his arms around her. Kissing her forehead, he tucked her under his chin and closed his eyes. She never failed to amaze him. Everyone he’d talked to about the last two years treated him as if he were made of glass. She took what he told her and accepted it. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know the first thing about it.

Turning his head to the side, he inhaled the scent of his soap on her skin. The tattoo over her forearm looked as if someone had scratched through the dark-black and blood-reds of a sacred heart. The more he looked at it, the more he thought he could make out letters.

“What happened here?”

Pandora snatched her arm away and hid it behind her back. It didn’t take a genius to see from the way her eyes widened and she shielded it from him she didn’t want him to see it.

“Pandy?”

“It happened a long time ago.” She looked down at Gibson.

Brian grasped her arm, pulled it out and examined the lines. The cover up had been done by someone with a real handle on color, but the old lines of a scarred tattoo showed through faintly. Scarred skin never tattooed well. He should know.

“Did Robert do this?” He was afraid to look at her face. He could handle that they’d been together, but if she’d tattooed his name on herself?

Pandora covered her face with her other hand and a sob escaped her lips. She shook her head. He pulled her back against his chest and held her for a few silent, tense moments. His thumb swiped over the scars, noticing how they felt different and stood out so clearly now that he knew they were there.

“Pandy?”

She pushed away from him and wiped at her face, wincing when she applied too much pressure. “Robert carved his name in my arm the first time I tried to leave him. It’s why leaving scared me. I didn’t have anywhere to go, and it’s not like I had a ton of money saved up. It was even harder then.”

He wanted to hold her, protect her, but she’d put space between them and he respected her for standing on her own two feet. “How did you get away from him?”

“We were at the Double Wide bar one night after a roller derby game. He thought I was hitting on this guy, and maybe he was flirting with me, but I was too exhausted to pay attention. He started yelling at me and pulled me out into the parking lot.”

Brian clenched the edge of the bathroom counter, his stomach churning. Pandora avoided his gaze. What had Robert done to her in that parking lot? What kind of atrocities had she endured? She shook her head and took a deep breath.

“He knocked me around a little and left me with the direction to find my own way home. Instead, Kellie and Mary found me. I kind of knew them just from seeing them around, but I didn’t really know them. But I knew I had to get away from Robert. He’d been bad before but this was the worst. We went to his place, I got as much of my stuff as I could, and I stayed with them until I was back on my feet. It’s been two years, but he still scares the shit out of me.”

She was the strongest woman he knew. Words tumbled from her lips, few of them making sense. What he did understand was that she’d been hurt, and instead of being a victim, she’d made it out. He’d never loved her more.

Chapter Eleven

Jailhouse: A tattoo style inspired by the kinds inmates would be able to get in jail. Very crude due to materials. May refer both to style and subject matter.

Black Light Tattoos: Designs that are only visible under ultraviolet light. Colors range from white to purple.

Five days. Pandora hadn’t touched her tattoo machine in five days. Her clients had been shuffled around, she’d lost a few to the other girls. It was what it was. She wanted to see her crappy apartment, hang out at the shop and do something.

Of course she’d drawn and sketched, but she didn’t have her paints or pastels. All of her canvases were at her place. There simply wasn’t room for her at Brian’s between all of the band stuff.

She liked his place, but with the cases in the living room, merch taking up spare bedrooms and random memorabilia everywhere else, it was as if all of the guys lived there. Though it was just their two bodies, the place was too full.

Things with Brian were tense. She’d ignored the little fact that he’d said the dreaded words, but they were there. He couldn’t take them back and she couldn’t unhear them. She hated herself for being fickle. He’d opened up to her, told her things she’d never imagined a guy admitting to anyone, and she didn’t deserve that kind of trust. Not that she would ever sell him out, but he deserved better.

Plucking a blade of grass, she watched Gibson trot up and down the fence in the backyard. For never having a dog, she and the Corgi clicked. Long-lost best friends, Brian had called them.

Tomorrow she would go home. She had to get away from Brian before something burst. She was thankful that he’d taken care of her, but she needed to take back her life. He of all people should understand her desire to do that. He hadn’t smothered her, but the hovering had to stop.

The patio doors slid open behind her, emitting the soft sounds of Irish folk music. She glanced over her shoulder. Brian was silhouetted against the kitchen lights, a phone pressed to his ear.

“Uh-huh. Hold on a sec. She’s right here.” He shuffled through the grass, his features indistinguishable in the darkness.

“Who is it?” She took her cell phone from him and glanced at the display. “Oh hey, Carly.”

“Pandora, hi.” Her voice erupted through the speaker like an auditory rainbow. “How are you? Autumn finally told me what happened. I’m sorry. Do you need anything?”

Taken aback, she glanced up at Brian, who merely shrugged and offered her a hand.

“Uh…”

“Was that Brian, like, Brian from Sucker Punch Sunday? Oh my god, I ran into him outside of the shop last week. That is so cool you guys are together.”

“Well…”

“Are you coming back to the shop soon? They said I could do the party, but I want you there.”

She breathed out a sigh and stepped into the condo. The warm weight of Brian’s hand against her back was steadying.

“I should be in tomorrow for a bit. I won’t be back full-time for another week, but I plan on being around. It depends on when I have appointments scheduled.” She ignored the disappointed noise from Brian. If he had his way, she’d take more time off, but she couldn’t afford to. She was already going to have to forgo getting her car fixed so she could cover rent and medical costs. She needed her own space so she could paint and hopefully sell something so she could eat.

“Awesome, I want to come in and see you.” Her voice smiled, bending with the waves of sound and painting a mental picture.

Pandora couldn’t help responding to it. She cracked a smile and nodded. “Yeah, you should come by.” Glancing over her shoulder, she laid her hand on Brian’s chest. “Maybe Brian will come by and you can show him your tattoo.”

His eyebrows rose.

“I can’t believe you’re dating him,” Carly squealed again.

Her heart clenched, still not ready to believe that it was a fact. She vacillated between wanting to run away one second and cling tight the next. She had feelings for him, but she didn’t know what to call it. She’d never loved anyone except her mother, and that had been a lifetime ago.

“Yeah,” she said after a pause. “Neither can I. Come by tomorrow after about three, okay?”

“Sounds awesome. Can’t wait.”

“Bye, Carls.” She chuckled and hung up.

Brian’s hand flattened over hers, capturing her hand on his chest.

“Did you put anything on your side today?” She turned toward him and ran her fingers over the fabric that shielded the tattoo from sight.

“No. Want to help me?” He grinned and her heart melted.

Rolling her eyes, she pulled out of his grasp and turned for the stairs. She wanted him, but each time she thought she could be intimate again, shame ruined it. She wasn’t good enough for him. She could fool herself into believing it would work and let the day everything ended crush her, or she could face it now. Desire withered within her until the bounce in her step became a plodding.

It was wrong to sleep next to a man like Brian and be unable to please him. He fell all over himself trying to make her comfortable, wanting her to be happy, and all she did was scheme to get away.

Pausing at the top of the stairs, she sniffed. “Is something burning?”

Rushing down the hall, she was brought up short by the sight that awaited her in the bedroom. She braced herself against the door, half afraid to walk in. Her stomach was somewhere on the floor and her head was threatening to float off her shoulders.

Candles lit the room, giving it a romantic glow. The bed had been stripped of the flannel sheets and replaced with soft red ones. Roses graced the bedside tables and the piles of laundry were gone.

All the blood rushed to her head. She wanted to hide, to run away before her heart broke.

She jumped when Brian wrapped an arm around her waist. His freshly shaven jaw slid across her neck, seeking out the perfect spot to plant a kiss. Her whole body shuddered when his lips found the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

It would feel good to lean back into him, to allow him to take care of her, but she’d never let anyone have the reins before.

Pulling away from him, she took several steps into the room.

“Pandy, what’s wrong?”

Turning, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, so she studied his chest, but that made it worse. She’d tattooed him. He’d carry part of her soul with him forever, no matter that she hadn’t expressed how much he meant to her.

“I just, I can’t do this. With you. I can’t.” She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing that she could fall through the floor.

Brian blinked. His mouth opened and closed a few times before anything came out. “Is it because I said I loved you?”

Her pulse jumped, strangling her heart in a noose she’d woven all on her own.

He took a step toward her. “If it’s too soon, I get it. I wanted to do something for you. I got it wrong, please, don’t get upset.”

Each kind word, every thoughtful thing he did tightened the rope around her neck. She shook her head.

“Pandy.” He reached for her but she stepped back farther. “I want to make you happy. Please, tell me what you want.”

She could see them having this conversation over and over again. If she didn’t put it out there, if he didn’t understand, he’d never give up and walk away. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath and balled her hands into fists. She inhaled the fragrance of vanilla and lemon. In another situation it would be soothing, but now she was beyond calming down.