she wanted. And now, he felt half sick with guilt, even though he’d never done or said anything to get in her way.
“Damn it,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face.
Carefully, he folded the note into a neat little square, slid it into his back pocket, and then looked up. He’d gotten into work early. He usually did, even when he couldn’t sleep, because he still got a thrill when he walked through Steel Ink.
His own place. Yeah, it was a little tattoo shop tucked off 4th Avenue in Tucson near the university. It was one of probably close to a dozen and in the first few years, he hadn’t been sure if he’d make it or not. But he was doing fine.
Not a lot of people had taken him seriously when he’d decided this was what he wanted to do with his life. Well, his folks had. Even if his mother had been mildly horrified at first. She loved him dearly and he adored her, but she still couldn’t quite comprehend this part of him.
It didn’t matter, though. This place made him happy and that was all that mattered to her.
In the back, he saw a black-and-white striped head of hair. Keelie was the only other person who’d get in this early. They didn’t unlock the doors until one on Sundays, but she was like him, and just loved being here. She was his partner. She should love being here.
Zach’s boots thudded on the floor as he crossed over to where she was setting up for the day. She glanced up at him, her mismatched eyes glinting. One blue eye, one brown, and there was a sly smile in those eyes. “You look intense there, superstar.”
“You talked to Abby?”
“Nobody else here to talk to her.” She shrugged. “Called about twenty minutes ago.”
“What exactly did she say?”
Keelie rolled her eyes. “She called and asked for you. I told her that you weren’t in, to try your cell. She said she’d already tried that—you forgot to charge it again, didn’t you?”
Zach glared at her. Hell, he didn’t know if he’d forgotten to charge it. He’d left the damn thing in his office again. “Not the point, Keelie,” he said edgily.
“You’re grouchy. You didn’t sleep again?” As he continued to glare, she sighed and lifted her hands. Her black bangs fell into her face and she impatiently shoved them back as she met his gaze. “Lighten up. Man. Anyway, she said she just wanted to let you know that the wedding was off—and seriously off, so if you wanted to go ahead and make plans for June, you could.”
“And?”
“That’s it.” Keelie leaned a hip against the counter, pinning him with a steady look. “You going to stop pining after her and make a fucking move now?”
Instead of answering her, he turned around and headed for the door. “I’m going to call Javier, see if he can help out for a while this afternoon. I need to go see her.”
“You think you might want to wait a while?” she called out after him.
“She just called off her wedding.” He stopped in the door and looked back at her. Their gazes locked and he said softly, “She’s my best friend, Keelie. Where do you think I should be?”
* * *
It was a bit of a drive from his shop to her place on Swan. He’d quietly relocated to Tucson within six months of her setting up her catering business. It hadn’t been entirely easy convincing her that it had been pure luck that he’d found the ideal spot for the business he wanted to open right in the exact city where she’d chosen to call home . . . but he thought maybe she’d been relieved to see him.
Happy to have him around again.
They’d spent most of their childhood around each other, and nearly all of their teenaged years. They were best friends, and time, distance, and her impending marriage hadn’t changed that. Neither had the gut-wrenching need he had for her.
Hopefully she’d be glad to have him there now, and she wasn’t going to pack up and disappear again now that the wedding was off. He’d have a hard time convincing her that he’d accidentally ended up in the same city as her again, he figured.
Of course, it wouldn’t stop him from doing it. Wherever Abby went, that was where he’d go.
Her car, a restored ’69 Mustang, sat in the driveway. It was the one thing that didn’t fit the practical life