“I’d like that,” I murmured. “To see you—it. I’d like to see it.” I put my hand over my face. “Okay, it’s late, and my brain just malfunctioned. I should go to bed.”
“It’s not even eleven o’clock,” he pointed out in a teasing tone, ignoring my attempt to get off the phone. “Now, were you saying you’d like to see me or the tattoo?”
I let out an embarrassed laugh. I wasn’t embarrassed by my admission. It was the way I’d stumbled over my words that had my face aflame.
“Okay, what I wastryingto say is that I’d like to see the tattoo,” I clarified. “What came out was that I’d like to see you. Both things are true. I just don’t know why I got so tongue-tied there.”
His soft chuckle was seductive. “I liked it.”
“You like that my brain and my mouth weren’t on the same page?”
“I like your brain and your mouth.”
My stomach flipped. “Oh?”
“Yeah, you’re smart. You think outside the box. I like the way you make connections in your head. I like that I never know exactly what you’re thinking or what you’re about to say. I could go on, but I’ll just say that, for a lot of reasons, I like your brain and your mouth… a lot.”
The air left my lungs.
His words hit my ears, my heart, and my pussy simultaneously.
He cleared his throat. “You told me about your fake tattoo, but you didn’t send me a picture of it.”
Grateful for the distraction, I sent him the picture I’d taken right before the book club meeting. I was sitting with my fist against my cheek and the inside of my wrist facing the camera. I was smiling, but the purpose of the photo was to show off my tattoo.
“Nice,” he reacted. “That purple looks good on your skin.”
“Thank you. I hope it shows up like that when I get the real thing. I’ve always thought the African violet was pretty, but”—I looked at my wrist in the dark—“I didn’t know what I was going to get tattooed on me when I put ‘get a tattoo’ on the list. But the moment Aunt Addy got hers, I knew I wanted to get a matching one.”
“So, if you didn’t know what you wanted to get, what made you put it on the list?” he questioned.
I rolled onto my back. “I wanted to do something painful.”
He was completely silent for a few seconds. “Are you—are you a masochist?”
The concern in his voice made me laugh out loud.
“No, I…” I hesitated for only a second, and then my truth poured out of me. “Everything on the list my aunt and I came up with is symbolic of where I was, where I am, and where I’m going. Getting a tattoo after being scared it would hurt is me facing the pain head-on. It’s me proving to myself that not only can I take it, but I can also survive it, and something beautiful can come out of it. It represents pain I’ve overcome. And after Aunt Addy said it didn’t hurt, she said thatshe would look at it and remember that pain doesn’t last forever. And that was really powerful for me.” I realized how I must’ve sounded and closed my eyes. “My bad, I was rambling.”
“No, you’re good. I love when you get going. You give me a peek at what’s in that head of yours. It’s even better when it’s something personal and you really open up. So thank you for sharing.”
“You’re easy to talk to.”
“You’re easy to listen to.” He paused. “And I like when you let me in.”
My lower body clenched.I’m trying to let you in again.
I bit my lip to keep my thoughts to myself, but I felt my truth about to bubble out of me.
A thump in the other room crashed me down to reality.
Aunt Addy!
“Hey, I need to check on my aunt,” I said in a rush, pushing the covers off me and scrambling to my feet. “I have to go.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
My heart thudded in my chest. “I will, thank you, bye.”
