Control You (17 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Snyder

BOOK: Control You
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I grinned at her. “What about my closet?”

“No.” She laughed. “The name of the store, what about calling it Paige’s Closet?”

“Oh, I like it.” Blaire nodded. “And think about it, more than half of the clothes you’re putting out to open with all came from your actual closet. It seems fitting in a way.”

I bit my bottom lip. My mind was going a mile a minute with this idea. The name could actually work. I loved it.

“That’s it! Paige’s Closet,” I said, trying it out. The more I thought about it, the better it sounded.

“Blaire, your at rest face looks bitchy. I think you need to read this article,” Lauren muttered out of the blue. She grabbed the bag of candy from Blaire’s lap and unwrapped another chocolate.

“My what?” Blaire tilted her head to the side.

“At rest face,” Lauren repeated. She tossed the magazine she’d been flipping through at Blaire. “Read it.”

While they worried about their at rest face and if it made them come off as bitchy, I started to sketch out ideas for this whole closet theme. I truly felt as though I was on to something with this. It was hip, vintage, and fresh. I couldn’t wait to go over the ideas with my mom. First, I needed to get everything planned out perfectly, though.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CAMERON

 

“You still want the same colors you said before, bro?” Bo lined up various shades of yellows, oranges, and reds along the counter.

“Yeah.” My adrenaline spiked as the notion I was getting a finished product today sliced through my mind.

“Show me the range you wanna go with it.” He pointed to the bottles of colors he’d displayed for me.

I glanced at the tints of each color and pulled out three from each row. “Let’s start with the dark red and then slowly blend into this shade of red. Do the same with orange next and then the yellows.”

“Yeah. I think that’ll work.” Bo nodded. He moved the bottles onto his little metal tray and wiped everything off with pads drenched in rubbing alcohol, before washing his hands and pulling on some gloves. “All right, assume the position.”

“What the fuck ever.” I chuckled as I straddled the leather chair and gripped the headrest.

“The rest of this looks good, man. It’s healing up nicely.” He swiped a cold cloth drenched in rubbing alcohol all over the tattoo to sterilize the area.

“It’ll look even better when it’s done.” There was nothing like the rush that came with getting a tattoo—except for getting one finished. This was my first one with color and of this size. It was going to be my baby for a while.

“Hold on, ’cause here we go.” Bo cranked up some Sevendust and got right to it.

 

* * * *

 

It took him nearly three hours, but the finished product was stunning. I stared at the phoenix, which would now forever be a part of me, in the long mirror Bo had behind the door of his little office. The shading was perfect, the detail to the wings and feathers amazing, and the fire exploding around it stunning. I couldn’t be happier.

“Silence scares me, dude. Tell me your thoughts,” Bo demanded.

“Nice.” I nodded and grinned. “Really fucking nice. I love it, man.”

“Yes.” He tilted his head to the ceiling and did a little fist pump action. “All right, another job well done.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Let’s get you bandaged up.” Tina grinned as she pulled on some gloves. I didn’t move as she gauzed me up, and then taped it into place. Her fingertips trailed along my ribs, and I could feel her body heat pressing against my bare back. “You’re all set.”

I took a step away from her. This new flirty version of Tina was freaking me out. She was practically my little sister too, so nothing like what she had in mind would ever happen between us. Ever.

Pulling my T-shirt over my head, I cast her a sideways grin. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” She beamed. Her hair was done up in those three big balls again, and she wore some crazy stripped stockings beneath her tutu-style skirt that reminded me of something the Wicked Witch in
The Wizard of Oz
would wear.

“How much do I owe you for today?” I shifted my attention to Bo, who was cleaning up.

He pursed his lips together, but didn’t look at me. “I’d say the same as last time—not a damn dime—but I know you won’t go for that, so fifty bucks.” He shrugged.

“Done.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the fifty I’d wrapped around four hundred-dollar bills earlier—knowing he would say some shit like that—and slapped it into his hand. I prayed he wouldn’t pay attention to the thickness of the bills. “Thanks, man. I’ll catch you later. I’m starved. Gotta get something to eat.”

“All right, take care of that tat. That’s a beautiful piece of art, man.”

“I will.” I headed down the hallway and toward the front door at a quick pace.

“Bye, Cam. Come back and see us sometime,” Tina said as I pushed the front door open and stepped outside.

“Will do,” I called over my shoulder. I hated to rush off and seem like a dick, but I was in desperate need of a cigarette. It had been hours. Plus, hanging around would only prolong the awkwardness between Tina and me, and I didn’t want Bo to toss my money back at me.

After pulling my pack and lighter out of my front pocket, I grabbed one and lit it. Stepping off the curb, I closed my eyes and leaned against my car for a minute, allowing the nicotine to flow through me. My shoulder blade buzzed with heat, and the edges of the sticky tape caught on my T-shirt. The desire to peel my shirt off slithered through me, but I resisted. The night air was cool against my clammy skin. It burned my lungs and sent a cold chill along my spine. I’d cool off in a minute.

Crickets chirped in the distance and the entire night seemed alive. It had to be after ten by now. The parking lot was deserted except for my car, Tina’s beater, Bo’s supped-up truck, and some black Honda Civic parked a little farther down.

A black Honda Civic. I knew that car. It belonged to Paige.

My heart hammered against my chest harder than when I was dealing with the pain of getting my tattoo finished. A smile broke out on my face as I wondered what she was doing here so late. Was she already setting up things inside her little shop? I hadn’t talked to her in a while. Not since that night. I’d avoided her simply because I didn’t want to aggravate the situation between her and Craig—whatever it may be—any more than I already had. However, that didn’t mean my thumb hadn’t hovered over her name on my phone a few times this past week when the desire to know she was okay knocked around inside of me.

I took another drag off my cigarette while I contemplated what I should do—hop in my car and leave, or walk to her shop and see how things were going.

“Fuck it,” I muttered as my feet started moving across the parking lot on their own accord.

The lights were on, but I couldn’t see Paige or anyone else inside. I waited, staring through the windows like a freaking peeping Tom, until I saw her walk from the back room out into the front. Reaching for the door, I pulled the handle and stepped inside.

“Hey, long time no see.” I smiled.

She jumped and her hand flew to her chest as her right leg hiked up to her waist as if she was about to dropkick me. “Jesus, you scared the crap out of me!”

I laughed and put my hands up in front of me as if I was surrendering. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I saw your car out there and the lights on, so I wanted to stop by and see how things were going.”

Her hands dropped to her sides and I realized she’d been holding paint swatches. “Good, things are good.”

“Trying to figure out what color to paint?” I motioned toward the strips in her hand. “Let me see what you’ve got. Maybe I can help you decide.”

“Yeah.” She shook her head and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen free from her ponytail behind her ear. “I can’t decide. I know I want the place to be vintage looking, but that’s about it.” She held out the swatches and I took them.

There were ocean blues, turquoise colors, and pale yellows. None of them really went together in my opinion, but I wasn’t her and this wasn’t my shop.

“Which one do you like best?” There was a heavy level of interest laced within her words; it made me smile because my opinion mattered to her.

“I like the blues.” I held them out to her. “If you’re going with a vintage look, you could always grunge them up a bit and they’d still stand out, whereas you might lose that with the yellow tones.”

“Wow.” The shock in her voice made me bring my eyes to hers. “You really know your stuff.”

“I guess.” I smiled. “I’ve been doing some remodeling lately of my own. Plus, I lived with Craig’s family for years and his mom’s an interior decorator.”

She shook a finger at me. “Ah, so you’ve been soaking up her secrets.”

“Something like that.” I glanced around the room, because if I continued to look into her eyes, the temptation to kiss her that slipped through me the second she’d stepped a little closer might overtake me. “So, you’ve got your paint down—have you got a name for the place?”

“I do.” The excitement in her voice was infectious. “Paige’s Closet. There’s going to be a whole vintage closet theme going on inside.” Her hands waved around as she said the words.

Paige’s Closet. I’d have to remember that. “Sounds like you’ve got everything figured out.”

“I’ve been brainstorming for days.” She walked into the back room and came out a second later holding a notebook. “These are the ideas we have. What do you think?”

I took the notebook from her. My fingertips brushed against hers in the process and chills slipped along my spine. Paige shivered and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, letting me know she felt exactly what I had. Fighting the hint of a smile that wanted to twist at my lips—because I loved what I was doing to her—I skimmed over her sketches and taped up cutouts from magazines she’d secured in place.

“You draw?” This little tidbit about her surprised me. It was something we had in common, but was also something I wasn’t about to admit. Not right now anyway.

“Oh, um, just a little.” She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Not like people or anything, pretty much just shapes.”

Flipping through the pages, I soon came to realize she had an amazing idea for this store. If her parents backed out, this was something I could see myself investing in. “I really like the theme you have going on here. What have your parents said about it all?”

“Thanks, and nothing really.” She fiddled with her fingers and dropped her eyes to the cheap carpet we were standing on. “I haven’t mentioned much to them about it. I wanted to create a portfolio for them to review at our next brunch first. I have this kind of
slap it all on them at once
theory I plan to use.”

“Good idea.” I handed the notebook back to her. “I think the best idea you have is the racks. Seeing the end caps on them, made to look as though the shopper were flipping through someone’s closet, gives it a unique feel. Very creative.”

“The goal there was to make the customers feel as though they’re at a friend’s house browsing through their clothes.”

I nodded. “I could see that being the vibe of the place. Listen, if this thing with your parents doesn’t pan out, let me know. I’d love to go in on this with you as a silent investor.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows drew together as though she thought I was pulling her leg.

“Really.”

“Awesome, thank you,” she muttered in a low tone, all breathy and hot. “I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

“You know where to find me.” I turned and exited the shop, figuring that was a good note to leave the conversation on, and deciding the way she was looking at me was not helping to ease the temptation of pulling her to me and tasting her lips.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

PAIGE

 

After mulling over the ideas Cameron had put into my head, and daydreaming for way too long about what the place would look like once I set all of my stuff up inside, I finally decided it was time to head home. I’d just flipped off the light in the back room when my cell chimed. It was a text from Craig.

I’ve been hoping you’d be willing to give me another shot. Doesn’t look like it’s going to happen though. Are we over now?

I didn’t respond right away. Instead, I remained rooted in place, standing in the center of my shop, staring at my phone, rattled by his choice of words. He was flat-out asking if we were over. For whatever reason, this nearly made me cry. Craig hadn’t sent me any messages all day, nor had he called. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about him until now. I guess that was my answer; now I just needed to find the right words to say it.

The door to the shop opened, startling me, and in walked Craig. “Well, aren’t you even going to reply? You just going to leave me hanging?” A hint of a smile hung on his face, but there was a tightness to his tone.

My heart hammered in my chest as I watched him take a few more steps into the shop. What was he doing here?

I held my phone up. “I was just thinking about how to respond.”

He sauntered closer to where I stood and I noticed his slight smile dip. “It’s a simple question, Paige. There’s no reason for the answer to be as difficult as you’re making it seem.”

“You haven’t tried to get a hold of me today, so I thought…” I trailed off, not wanting to say what I’d actually been thinking. My shoulders grew tense with every step closer to me he took. My stomach became rock hard. I was scared of him. This realization made my thoughts grow fuzzy and my heart race even faster. “I just, I don’t think…” I rubbed my hand over my forehead and let out a nervous sigh.

My throat constricted and I couldn’t think of the right words to say. Breaking up with someone face-to-face was hard to do when you weren’t angry with the person for something.

“Have you gotten all my flowers and stuff?” His question came out rushed, as though he was trying to get a few words in before what he was expecting to hear flew from my lips. “You haven’t said anything about them. I’ve been wondering if you’d received them at all.” He shrugged and crammed his hands into his front pockets.

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