Tattoos & Tulle by Frederika Bradford & CL Marie

Author:Frederika Bradford & CL Marie [Bradford, Frederika & Marie, CL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Frederika Bradford
Published: 2024-02-19T00:00:00+00:00

Ellie

I swallowed hard and replied, “Sophomore.”

Shit, this felt sort of intimate. While Bryce removed the evidence of a long night in the studio from my skin, I was having a hard time sitting still. I was thrumming with energy, with anger, and with need.

I’d been truthful with Liv; I was into Bryce. I didn’t think it was all that revolutionary of a confession. Bryce gave off the most delicious alpha-male pheromones, and I was sure he affected a lot of women. Except for Liv, of course. Liv, who only had eyes for Kellan.

I was happy for her, truly, but my PTSD made it hard to celebrate her budding relationship when mine was being raked over the coals. Again. I should be loyal to Ben, especially considering what we’d been through and the fact we were still technically “together,” but I had a feeling we were both waiting for the other to pull the plug.

There was a time we’d expected to be together forever, because of an unplanned pregnancy, but I’d taken it upon myself to resolve that situation before it sealed our fates. Deep down, I knew Ben was grateful I’d made that choice, though he’d never say so.

I was at peace with it; there wasn’t a day that went by where I second guessed myself. I wasn’t going to be a teenage mother, I wasn’t rushing into marriage, and I wasn’t giving up my scholarship. I had the right to decide for myself, and I had. Still, being at peace with something didn’t mean my life was hunky dory. Bryce seemed to pick up on some of the turmoil in my art.

The Semester Showcase was a month away. I wasn’t sure if I would turn in the drawing that sat a few feet away from us, but I hadn’t known how else to answer Bryce when he asked the reason I’d created it. Not everything I created was for class; most times, my art was just for me.

Over the past week or so I’d worked with charcoal in my free time, consumed with that medium as a way to expel my emotions. I felt less pent-up after creating, like a runner’s high, but this time it wasn’t enough. I was still humming with need for a final, explosive confrontation with Ben. The problem was, Ben wasn’t a fighter. Sure, we “fought,” but Ben didn’t fight for us. That was fine, though, since there really was very little “us” left, anyway.

As Bryce and I stood in silence, recovering from his unknowingly apt comment about a shotgun wedding, I recalled the information Liv had shared the previous night; Bryce was thirty-one years old. I watched as his deep brown eyes moved over my face and neck, drawing the cooling rag across my heated skin. I knew he was older, given his looks and the air of confidence that guys my age lacked. Before Liv confirmed his age, I would have pegged him for closer to twenty-six, but Bryce had twelve years on me.

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