He slides his fingers between mine, and we leave the hotel hand in hand as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. I should pull away, but I don’t. I let him guide me through the busy streets, my sole focus on the feel of my hand in his. Notthe hot August sun radiating off the concrete below and the skyscrapers above. Not the random whiffs of sewer smell or the piles of garbage waiting for pickup.
Owen is the only thing I notice.
We’re able to get a window seat at a tiny pizzeria with world-famous pies. We fold our slices like we’re native New Yorkers and people watch out the window. It’s surreal to be out in the world with him like this. Like we’re a normal couple doing normal couple things.
It’s a dream I don’t want to wake up from.
In this dreamlike state, I don’t have to worry that being with him will ruin his relationship with my brother. Or that we’ll inevitably end. Right here, right now, we’re together, and I don’t want to waste a second of it.
When we each reach for our sodas, he lifts his paper cup to me and says, “To New York.”
“To New York,” I repeat back as our cups touch, and we take sips through our straws.
We make idle chatter about the characters who pass by our window, and once we’ve finished, he checks his phone. “It’s time,” he says with an excited lift of his brows.
“Where in the world are we going?” I ask we throw away our paper plates.
“Patience, Clover.”
“Why all the secrecy?”
“It’s more fun that way.”
“I think you just like being extra.”
He holds his phone up. It’s 2:22. This and the flash of his dimples are the only warning I get before he scoops me up into his arms in the middle of the hectic sidewalk and kisses me senseless. Pedestrians walk around us as though we’re a traffic cone and not two people making out for all to see. It’s romantic.It’s dreamy. And it’s typical Owen, to do something so over the top after being accused of being extra.
“Is this extra enough for you?” he asks against my lips.
“It’ll do.”
He chuckles, and I love that I can feel his laughter vibrate through me.
Much too soon my feet hit the ground, his hand is back in mine, and we join the rush of people. A couple of blocks later, he opens the door to a tattoo shop.
“Holy shit. Owen Swift is getting his first tattoo. Did you bring me here to hold your hand?”
“That is exactly why you’re here.”
“Happy to be of service.”
This appointment is a surprise, to be certain, but it’s also exciting, and sonot,Owen. I swear, he never stops surprising me.
“Hi there. I have an appointment with Jade. Should be under Owen Swift.”
An adorable girl with piercings where dimples would usually be finds him in their system and says, “Yes, here you are. We got your design approval last week, so unless you want to make any changes, we’re all ready for you.”
“Great. Is it okay if my girlfriend sits with me? I’m gonna need to hold her hand.” He winks at the girl, and she blushes like most women do when his charm is at work.
Who am I to judge? I’m not immune. The word girlfriend coming out of his mouth makes me blush even more than the girl walking us through the shop. The heat on my cheeks is confirmation of that.
We’re introduced to Jade, who rolls over a stool for me to sit on while I hold the big baby’s hand, and then Owen pulls him to the side. They chat and come to some kind of agreement, thenOwen takes his spot on the reclined chair and asks if I’ll grab him a bottle of water from the fridge at the front desk.
By the time I return, the stencil is on his body, and they’ve already gotten to work. Owen’s shirt is off, and there is a large hoodie on one side of his chest while Jade’s hands cover what he’s working on.
“Sit here and face me, Clover.”
“You have got to be kidding me. You tell me you want me here, but you won’t let me see what you’re getting? Like I said. Extra.”
