Read Online Ten Thousand Words by Kelli Jean - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kelli Jean
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needing the contact with her.
Again, she shrugged. “I have a few really close friends. Nothing sexual going on right now though. I suppose I could say I live vicariously through my writing.”
“When was the last time you had sex?” I wasn’t too sure I wanted to know.
She looked pensive.
Holy shit, she’s actually trying to figure it out!
“I hooked up with an old lover back in February.”
“So…eight months ago?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “What about you?”
“Hmm…” I said, looking out over the stream. “Three weeks ago—give or take a couple of days. A pretty standard lay.”
She sighed. “Lucky. Mine ended on a depressing note.”
She laughed suddenly, and because it was so infectious, I joined in. It was just so nice being able to connect with someone like this. It wasn’t that it was easy. It was just…worthwhile.
“Come on. I need more pictures,” I said.
She pushed herself off the wall.
For the next few hours, we walked around, and I took up several rolls of film. I bought us hot dogs and hot apple cider from a vendor. The smell of it reminded me of her, and I could almost imagine what it’d be like drinking her in.
I asked to hear more stories of her growing up, and she held nothing back while speaking about her friends Jaime and Ricki—her Bro Dawgs, whatever the hell that meant.
“We’re a pretty close-knit group—Jaime and Ricki and Rex. I hang out with them all the time back home. There’s Ronen and Lilla, whom I talk to at least three times a week. They had to move about two years ago. We’re all hoping they get to come home soon.”
They seemed to be a rowdy bunch of misfits, from the sound of it. I wanted to meet them.
“Ricki and Jaime run the Inkwell—”
“The tattoo shop? Your Ricki is Ricki Conklin ?”
Xanthe gave me a huge smile. “You’ve heard of him?”
“Yeah. Many of our clients have tattoos from him. His work is amazing. I’ve photographed quite a few of his pieces. It’s all the rage nowadays. Tattooed models are much more mainstream.”
“Do you have any tattoos?” she asked.
“No. I’ve never seen anything I’d want permanently etched into me. I guess, for some people, it’s all right. Sometimes, I wonder though…”
“What?”
“It’s kind of crazy to actually do something like that.”
Xanthe averted her gaze. “What? Do you always judge people before you get to know them, Ollie?”
Surprised and maybe mildly hurt, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you seem to make up your mind about people before even knowing them. Like Elaine. You’ve stated that you think she must be insane to have come up with the stories she has. And, now, people with tattoos have to be somewhat crazy to want them.”
Now that it had been pointed out to me…I realized I did. “I’m sorry, Xanthe. I guess I never thought of it like that. It’s not like I’d be mean or rude to a person for what they looked like.”
“Really? If I had been smartly dressed and looking like I hadn’t just rolled out of bed when you knocked me down in the airport, do you think you’d have been nicer to me?”
Talk about a slap in the face. But honestly… “I don’t know.”
She nodded. “I think you would have. When it happened you said, ‘not another one.’ What did you mean by that?”
Ashamed now, I squirmed next to her on the bench. “The Paranormal Hunters weirdos—shit.” Mortified, I could now see what she was talking about. “It’s just—”
“It’s just that you seem to have people lumped into categories, and that’s kind of sad. Tell me, what category have you shoved me into? What do you mean by, I was just another Paranormal Hunters weirdo?”
“You were dressed like a lot of the fans who’d been popping up and harassing me recently. Then, you said my name, and…I’m not really like that. I don’t look at a person and pass judgment.”
“What about Elaine?” she demanded. “What makes it okay to
Again, she shrugged. “I have a few really close friends. Nothing sexual going on right now though. I suppose I could say I live vicariously through my writing.”
“When was the last time you had sex?” I wasn’t too sure I wanted to know.
She looked pensive.
Holy shit, she’s actually trying to figure it out!
“I hooked up with an old lover back in February.”
“So…eight months ago?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “What about you?”
“Hmm…” I said, looking out over the stream. “Three weeks ago—give or take a couple of days. A pretty standard lay.”
She sighed. “Lucky. Mine ended on a depressing note.”
She laughed suddenly, and because it was so infectious, I joined in. It was just so nice being able to connect with someone like this. It wasn’t that it was easy. It was just…worthwhile.
“Come on. I need more pictures,” I said.
She pushed herself off the wall.
For the next few hours, we walked around, and I took up several rolls of film. I bought us hot dogs and hot apple cider from a vendor. The smell of it reminded me of her, and I could almost imagine what it’d be like drinking her in.
I asked to hear more stories of her growing up, and she held nothing back while speaking about her friends Jaime and Ricki—her Bro Dawgs, whatever the hell that meant.
“We’re a pretty close-knit group—Jaime and Ricki and Rex. I hang out with them all the time back home. There’s Ronen and Lilla, whom I talk to at least three times a week. They had to move about two years ago. We’re all hoping they get to come home soon.”
They seemed to be a rowdy bunch of misfits, from the sound of it. I wanted to meet them.
“Ricki and Jaime run the Inkwell—”
“The tattoo shop? Your Ricki is Ricki Conklin ?”
Xanthe gave me a huge smile. “You’ve heard of him?”
“Yeah. Many of our clients have tattoos from him. His work is amazing. I’ve photographed quite a few of his pieces. It’s all the rage nowadays. Tattooed models are much more mainstream.”
“Do you have any tattoos?” she asked.
“No. I’ve never seen anything I’d want permanently etched into me. I guess, for some people, it’s all right. Sometimes, I wonder though…”
“What?”
“It’s kind of crazy to actually do something like that.”
Xanthe averted her gaze. “What? Do you always judge people before you get to know them, Ollie?”
Surprised and maybe mildly hurt, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you seem to make up your mind about people before even knowing them. Like Elaine. You’ve stated that you think she must be insane to have come up with the stories she has. And, now, people with tattoos have to be somewhat crazy to want them.”
Now that it had been pointed out to me…I realized I did. “I’m sorry, Xanthe. I guess I never thought of it like that. It’s not like I’d be mean or rude to a person for what they looked like.”
“Really? If I had been smartly dressed and looking like I hadn’t just rolled out of bed when you knocked me down in the airport, do you think you’d have been nicer to me?”
Talk about a slap in the face. But honestly… “I don’t know.”
She nodded. “I think you would have. When it happened you said, ‘not another one.’ What did you mean by that?”
Ashamed now, I squirmed next to her on the bench. “The Paranormal Hunters weirdos—shit.” Mortified, I could now see what she was talking about. “It’s just—”
“It’s just that you seem to have people lumped into categories, and that’s kind of sad. Tell me, what category have you shoved me into? What do you mean by, I was just another Paranormal Hunters weirdo?”
“You were dressed like a lot of the fans who’d been popping up and harassing me recently. Then, you said my name, and…I’m not really like that. I don’t look at a person and pass judgment.”
“What about Elaine?” she demanded. “What makes it okay to
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