“The last time you were upset, you wanted to be alone.”
“I understand and we’ll get to learn more about each other, but do you know what you look like to me right now? You look like an abused woman trying not to piss off the monster in her life. I don’t like it.”
“No,” I protest and move closer to him. “I’m simply trying not to overstep by giving you the space you need to think. We’ve only been in each other’s lives like this for a week. I know I’m not your pers-”
“Karessa,” he cuts me off. “What did we do today?”
“Get married?” I don’t know why it sounds like a question but I am confused.
The sheets rustle and Jagger grabs me by the back of my head and pulls me until our noses almost touch. “Then youaremy fucking person, Karessa Hanlon.”
His beard tickles my face when he kisses me hard. It’s so damn erotic when he does that; commands my body. My fingers find his damp hair and pull him down on me, his hard chest presses against my nipples and teases them with his light dusting of hair. One kiss has me ready to go, but he breaks it, falls onto his back, and pulls me close.
“What’s going through your mind, Karebear?”
I think about it for a second but knowing Jagger, he likes straight talk. “I’m thinking although you were in a relationship, you had a soft spot for Ainslee at some point.”
“True. But there’s more to it than that. We were in each other’s lives even before I met Oran. That little asshole has always been around. She’s the person that I can talk shit about but no one else can. Part of me used to feel we’d probably end up together but I wasn’t pinning away for her. I was perfectly okay with Oran marrying her, understand?” I nod but don’t speak because I know he has more to say. “Plus, she’s a reminder my brother’s death wasn’t in vain.”
I pop up because I’m lost and that’s some deep shit to be throwing out casually. “What do you mean, Jagger?”
The moonlight plays off his face but I can see the tension in his jaw. He clenches it, giving himself time to get his emotions in order.
“I had a twin brother, Jamie, until I was seven. He died the same day Ainslee was born and she needed a heart. Lucky for her, he was small enough to be a match.”
His confession fills me with so many emotions, I feel warm. “Is that the date on your back tattoo?”
“Yeah, the date he became an angel,” the sadness in his voice and the new information breaks my heart.
I tear up because it’s impossible not to feel anything. Plus, other things I didn’t understand but never bothered to question makes sense. Now I get why we know Ainslee needed surgery as a child but we don’t know the details. And that picture of me in all black with my pregnant mother who was similarly dressed has context. In the past, when I asked where we were she’d say an event and nothing more. But I could see how sad she was in the picture.Jamie’s funeral.
“And the rib tattoo, the stairway to heaven...the boy is Jamie and the woman…”
“Bethany,” he confirms. “It used to be just the stairway with the clouds behind the open gate, but I added them later.”
I turn to grab a tissue from the holder on my side of the bed to wipe my face. It’s all so beautiful and heartbreaking, I can’t stop my tears.
“And the lyrics on your thigh? Do you like that song or sex that much or is it something else.”
“All of the above?” he chuckles. “I’m kidding, it was Jamie’s favorite song.”
“Jagger…” It’s all I have because there are no words to ease that kind of pain.
He pulls down and hugs me tight in a full body press until my sniffles subside. I begin to notice and love the contrasting scent of our soap, feel comfort from his warm body, and appreciate the soft kisses he plants on my temple. I realize he’s comforting me.
“This is some first-class comforting you’re doing, Karebear,” he jokes as he squeezes me tighter.”
“I am a Jedi comforter. Let me get my game face together…” Jagger doesn’t release me when I try to move.
“I was messing with you. It makes me feel better thinking you’re more fucked up than me. Do you have any conditions or allergies I need to know about?”
“No, asshole. I’m only allergic to morphine.”
“Sucks for you. That’s the good shit. I’m allergic to peanut butter and strawberries, FYI.”
“Wow, so that sandwich I was going to make you-”
He kisses me to cut me off. “Don’t even think about it, jerk.”
