Lisa shot him a disapproving look. “You don’t think she’ll understand?” she asked me.

“Would you?” I asked.

“Tenley and I aren’t the same person.”

“But would you be able to handle it if you were her? You said yourself you don’t think she’s got all that much in the way of experience. Based on what I’ve seen in the past week, I’m inclined to agree with you. You really think she’s going to be cool with finding out I banged a stripper on and off for a number of years? And that the reason for the rule is because my business partner got in on the action when I got bored? And I still went back for more after that anyway? How does that make me look? What kind of person does something like that?”

“It was a long time ago, Hayden. Things are different now. You’re different now.”

“People don’t change.”

“People adapt. You were young. The choices you made back then aren’t the same ones you would make now. Tenley is proof of that. It’s called personal growth.”

“I don’t know how to deal with this shit.” I shifted in my seat. I felt restless, unbound.

“That’s because you’ve never tried to before,” Jamie said.

Both Lisa and I looked at him. He was spinning a pen between his fingers.

“What? It’s true.” He rolled his eyes. “Sorry I don’t have the same soft touch as my woman. Sometimes you need to hear it straight, Hayden. I’ve known you for what, almost seven years?”

“Give or take,” I replied.

“And in all that time, I have never known you to spend an extended period of time with one person.”

“I’m with you guys all the time.”

Jamie shook his head. “Not the same.”

“Aside from Sienna, Tenley is the only person you’ve been with who you seem to actually care about,” Lisa said.

“I don’t give a fuck about Sienna.”

Jamie coughed.

“That’s not really the point, Hayden,” Lisa said. “Tenley is the point. You don’t have to tell her every detail of your past for her to accept you. She’s already done that. Tell her what she can handle right now and go from there. It doesn’t always have to be all or nothing.” Lisa sat down beside me. “We all know what it’s like to go through the kind of session she did tonight. She’s going to be emotional. I know why you reacted the way you did when you saw Sienna, but Tenley doesn’t. She’s important to you; make her feel that way.”

“I should be able to do that.” At least I thought I could.

Now more than ever I understood what Lisa meant about the intimacy of putting ink on someone I was into. Tenley’s pain affected me, and I wasn’t used to feeling helpless.

“You said she told you about her accident?” Jamie asked.

Our losses were so similar in some ways, and so different in others. I still didn’t know much about how she managed to survive. I imagined the things she saw would have been horrifying.

“She was in a plane crash. Her parents were with her . . . but they died.”

Lisa looked shocked. “She told you that during the session?”

I nodded.

“How did you handle it?”

Her concern over my reaction worried me. “I don’t know. Okay, I guess? I figured it would be bad, I just didn’t know how bad.”

Lisa looked at the clock. “You should go check on her.”

“Sorry I lost it.”

“You had good reason.” Lisa gave me an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

“Is Chris okay? I should probably call him.” I felt bad about using him as a scapegoat.

“Maybe give him the night to simmer down. He’s pretty upset about the Sienna thing, and not just because you went off on him,” Lisa replied.

I tried to call Tenley, but her phone kept going to voice mail, so I showed up unannounced. My plan was to say as little as possible about Sienna and focus on how Tenley was managing. By the time I got to her apartment, she’d been home almost an hour. I doubted she would be asleep, even if she was exhausted from the session.

Music came from inside her apartment; the bass made the floor vibrate. That could be good or bad. She cracked the door and peeked out at me.

“Hayden?” She looked confused and a little guarded. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying. It made me feel like shit.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay after the session. I tried to call.”

“I took some Tylenol like you told me to.” She opened the door a little wider. A pungent, familiar aroma hit me.

“Are you high?” It was a stupid question; she most certainly was. Her eyes weren’t bloodshot because she’d been crying; she’d been hotboxing her apartment. I wanted to know where the hell she got the weed from. I’d put money on that Ian guy in her group.

“Shh.” She pressed a finger to her pouty lips and pulled me into the apartment. She stuck her head out into the hallway, probably checking to make sure the DEA weren’t onto her, then slammed the door shut, fumbling with the lock.

“I didn’t like your friend at the shop,” she said, winding her arms around my neck. Her lips connected with my chin. I could smell alcohol on her breath in addition to the substance she’d been smoking. Clearly her filter was gone, and with that, her inhibitions. Her hands slid down my back and went under my shirt.

“She’s not my friend,” I said, annoyed she hadn’t stopped at Tylenol. I hugged her back as best I could anyway. One hand rested at the nape of her neck, while the other had nowhere to go but her ass.

It was my fault she was in this state. I should have taken her home. I was about to ask her about her weed supplier when I heard footsteps coming from the direction of her bedroom.

“Who was at the door?” The body attached to the voice rounded the corner.

The waitress from The Dollhouse stopped short, her face registering surprise and then recognition. She looked so different fully dressed that I almost didn’t place her.

She pointed at me with one neatly manicured finger. In her other hand was a half-smoked joint. “You! I know you! You’re friends with that guy who keeps harassing me.”

Tenley was still wrapped around me, petting my arm. Her pupils were huge. I worried about what else she might have taken, given the cocktail of narcotics I’d seen in her medicine cabinet.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, unsure how they knew each other.

“I live across the hall. What are you doing here?”

Tenley’s neighbor worked in the strip club Sienna managed. Oh, the irony. “I’m checking on her tattoo,” I said, concerned about the information Sarah might impart to Sienna if given the opportunity, or vice versa.

“You’re doing what? Making a house call?” Her eyes narrowed with distrust.

“Calm down, I work across the street.” I needed to diffuse the situation.

“How do you two know each other?” Tenley slurred.

“Do you have any idea what kind of person he is?” Sarah jabbed her finger at me.

“What?” Tenley rubbed her temple, looking upset. “I don’t understand . . .”

“Your friend here,” Sarah pointed at me, “has quite the reputation where I work—”

I cut her off. “Sienna’s pathological. That’s who you’re talking about, right?” When she just stared, I barreled on. “Everything that comes out of her mouth is skewed. What I want to know is why you think it’s a good idea to get Tenley high and, from the look of it, drunk, when she’s just come out of a four-hour tattoo session.”

“Do you have any idea how hard this is for her? She came knocking on my door in tears because of this.” Sarah motioned to her back.

For the first time I noticed what Tenley was wearing. Her sweatshirt was loose and fell off one shoulder, exposing the cellophane that covered her back. There was no bra. For once I didn’t have an inappropriate reaction.

“That’s why I wanted her to take Tylenol, not get high and wasted. Alcohol is a blood thinner, for fuck sake.”

“I don’t mean how uncomfortable she is, you idiot. I mean why she wants the damn thing in the first place.”