Page 24
The charm drops away, and he gets more serious. I can hear it in the way he describes Hollow North’s first few shows overseas, going from bars and small venues to stadium stages in front of crowds bigger than anything they’d ever played before.
He talks about Paris and Berlin, a night in Prague when half their gear arrived late, and a club show added between arena dates where the crowd was packed so close he worried the front row might get crushed. Then there was the bus breaking down somewhere in Belgium and all of them spending six hours at a rest stop arguing over whether they could survive on vending-machine food.
“You make it sound miserable,” I say as I wipe the excess ink from his arm.
Zander smiles without moving. “It was great. Exhausting, cramped, chaotic, and great.”
That makes more sense to me than it probably should. I’ve felt the same way about places I loved enough to leave.
He must catch something in my expression because he looks over. “What?”
“Nothing.” I check the line I’ve just finished, then add, “San Francisco could be like that.”
“Great and miserable?”
“Sometimes.” I settle my hand against his arm again and start the next section of shading. “I loved the shop. I had good clients, people I cared about, and there was always somewhere to eat no matter how late I finished working. I miss that part.”
“What don’t you miss?”
“The ridiculously high rent. Spending forty minutes trying to get somewhere that should’ve taken fifteen.” I smile when he laughs. “Mostly the feeling that everything was moving all the time.”
He’s quiet while I work another few inches, letting me concentrate until I stop to wipe his skin clean again.
“So that’s why you came here?”
“Partly. I wanted something quieter.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“Because it’s true.”
I can feel him watching me, but he doesn’t jump in with another question. He just waits while I check the saturation in the section I’ve finished and add a little more black along the edge.
It takes me a second to realize what he’s doing. I look up. “Don’t do that.”
His mouth curves. “Do what?”
“Sit there waiting for me to keep talking. That’s my trick.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“Liar.”
The smile gets a little wider, but he leaves it alone, and I go back to his arm before I tell him more than I’m ready to.
Zander stays quiet for a minute while I work, then asks, “So is Redwood Point permanent?”
My hand pauses for half a second before I keep going. “That’s a bigger question than it sounds.”
“You don’t know?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He turns his head slightly toward me, careful not to move his arm. “You also didn’t answer.”
I glance up at him. “You got one personal answer today. Don’t get greedy.”
His smile comes back. “Worth a try.”
