Page 72 of On the Plus Side
The sudden appearance of Sady and Stanton from the hallway drove the worries out of Everly’s head.
A short-statured Japanese man stood between them. He had dark hair, even darker eyes, and a well-trimmed chinstrap beard. Everly recognized him from his social media accounts, which she scrolled through pretty much daily.
Goro Adachi.
Her pulse burst into a gallop, the jump in her veins so frantic it must have been visible beneath her skin. This was happening. It was a huge step. The biggest she’d taken in a long time toward figuring out who she wanted to be.
Stanton beelined for her and spun her in a circle. “Excuse me.Lookat you.”
There’d been a box of outfits waiting for Everly in her hotel room when Logan had dropped her off. A note resting on top readLet yourself be seen.And, in a move that was classic Jazzy Germaine, everything Everly had packed for herself (minus her PJs and underwear) had disappeared. Which meant she’d be wearing what Jazzy picked out, whether she liked it or not.
Not that there was any chance Everly wouldn’t like her choices. Jazzy had a magical eye for dressing people.
Everly had whiled away a good hour trying everything on and peacocking in the mirror. Every piece had made her smile a little wider, from the tan hoodie with leopard-print sleeves, to the cerulean-blue cropped T-shirt with a floral print, to the formfitting joggers and perfect boyfriend jeans. Stylish but casual, with a hint of boho. Exactly the vibe Everly had been daydreaming about since she’d agreed to this wild adventure.
She’d chosen the cropped tee and the joggers for her tattoo consultation. Leaving her room that morning had taken a fit of bravery (theremight have been a literal, out-loud pep talk,Friday Night Lightsstyle), and nerves had spun her stomach like a Ferris wheel, but then she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the elevator doors. She’d lookedfierce.The joggers hugged her hips and ass perfectly. The top was loose, exposing a small sliver of skin above her waistband, the gauzy fabric emphasizing the shape of her ample breasts.
“I might live in this forever,” she said to Stanton, smiling. She felt a million miles away from her uniform of blacks and grays and formless swing dresses.
“I support this choice.” He gave Everly one final twirl.
By now, Sady and Goro had reached them. The tattoo artist was wearing a plain gray T-shirt, which accentuated his sleeves of tattoos. Instead of a series of distinct pieces, his were seamless, each image blending into the other, all working together to tell a single story.
Goro narrowed his eyes at Stanton. “How do you have this much energy before eightA.M.?” His voice was playful, though as far as Everly was concerned, it was a legitimate question. Stanton’s endless stores of energy continued to amaze her.
“I’m pretty sure he’s secretly a windup toy,” Logan muttered from the corner.
Stanton winked at him. “You wish you could turn my dials.”
“That’s not how—” Logan paused mid-sentence and waved a hand, cutting himself off. “Forget it.”
Goro slapped Stanton congenially on the back. “Have you ever noticed that our friend’s sense of humor diminishes by a factor of ten for every hour before noon?”
Everly had a million questions. How did Goro and Logan know each other? What embarrassing stories did Goro have to share? Had he done the paw prints on Logan’s arm? But those were things for Logan to tell her, when and if he wanted.
Instead, she asked, “Wait, he has a sense of humor?”
Goro let out a hearty laugh. “Everly.” He stuck out his hand, his grip firm but gentle when Everly shook it. “I can already tell you’re going to be everything Logan said you were.”
Oh god. Her gaze shot toward the cameraman, who only shrugged, that ghost of a smile haunting his mouth. Her mind spun with the possibilities of what he might have said.
Goro waved them toward the hallway. “Let’s head to my office. I’m dying to hear about this tattoo of yours.”
There were only two rooms behind the waiting area, one with a tattoo chair, the other a small but spacious office. Both had a southern wall of wide windows that bathed the faux wood floors in sunlight.
Everly and Stanton sat opposite Goro at an angled table with a large tablet inlay. Sady and Joe positioned themselves behind Goro, and Logan stood behind Everly, so he could capture whatever happened on the tablet.
A scanner sat on a small table beside the desk. Goro fed Everly’s sketch into it, then pulled up the drawing on the tablet’s screen.
“I know this is sacrilege to some artists, but I like to start my pieces electronically. It’s more forgiving while I’m figuring out the right approach. Especially when collaborating with someone.”
Collaborating. Like they were on the same level. The word yanked the breath from Everly’s lungs.
“This is cool.” With some twists and turns of his hand, he zoomed in to inspect the image from every angle.
Everly held her breath. Silently, she noted every crooked line, the skewed perspective between the tipping cage and the flock of black birds in silhouette erupting from it. She should have used a ruler to get the bars just right, should have scaled down the birds to match the cage.
Goro had to be seeing those same things.
