Present Day
We lie next to each other, me gently running my fingers through her hair, her examining my tattoos.
“Who did your tattoos?”
“I drew them. Virgil did them.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Do they represent something?”
“Not really. It took a few months to complete it all. I’d get a sudden inspiration and draw it out. The sketching and getting the tattoo are both kind of therapeutic in a way. I think that when I felt I needed a release from all the demons in my head, inspiration would come.”
Kerry follows the outlines of my tattoos with her index finger. Her fingers are soft. Her touch is smooth. “And I thought most guys just used masturbation to get a release.”
Her comment takes me by surprise. I laugh out loud. “I won’t lie. It certainly has its benefits. Sketching and tats soothe me in a completely different way.”
Kerry runs her hand over my chest. “I see.”
I turn my body and lie sideways to face her. “Tell me. Do masturbation and molding pottery have the same effect on you?” Her eyes grow wide and then narrow almost as quickly. She smiles. “Point taken.”
“Have you thought more about getting a tattoo?”
She strokes the ink on my arm again. “A little. But whatever I decide, I’m sure Virgil will do a fine job.” She giggles, and I jab her softly in the ribs to make her squirm.
“Seriously, though, I have thought about it. I think I’m going to go with the lotus.”
“I can sketch something out for you. If I meet your high standards, that is.”
She moves her hand down my chest and abs, allowing it to disappear under the sheets. She wraps her fingers around me. I am more than ready for a second round.
“You exceed my standards by far.”
I feel Kerry rustle beside me. I open my eyes to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her naked back facing me. Her skin is flawless. I have an urge to touch her. I move toward her and reach out, but before my fingers make contact, she jumps up and scrambles for her clothes on the floor.
“Shit,” she whispers. I assume she doesn’t realize I’m awake.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She clutches her clothes to her chest and looks at me, startled. “Oh my God, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t wake me. Don’t be sorry. But you look like you’re in a hurry. What’s going on?”
“Fucking Rachel.”
Great. Fucking Rachel is robbing me of my morning with Kerry somehow. “What did she do now?”
Kerry throws her top over her head and shimmies it down over her body. I didn’t realize watching a woman get dressed in a hurry was so hot. Her hair is still partially buried in her shirt, and I find that sexy as hell. I sit up in bed and clutch my covers at my waist. I don’t need her knowing that her rushed panic is turning me on in any capacity.
She sits back down on the bed and struggles with the legs of her jeans.
“She’s left me twenty-two texts and a dozen voice messages. And it’s hardly eight o’clock in the morning. I want to call her back so badly and tell her to fuck off.”
“I think that sounds like a sensational idea.” I reach out and grab her hair and pull it from her shirt. I rub my hand along the back of her neck.
She finally gets her jeans on and buttoned, then turns to me with an enormous smile. “Good morning, Luca.”
She leans in to peck me on the lips. “Good morning, Kerry,” I respond.
“Last night was—” She pauses and looks me in the eyes like she’s searching for something. “It was more than amazing, but I can’t think of any better words right now.”
I run my fingers through her hair and palm her cheek. “It certainly was more than amazing.”
She kisses me again. “But I have to go. I want to tell Rachel to fuck off, but Stella has put so much work into the St. Patrick’s Day ball and I don’t want to be the reason it all falls to shit. I have to see it through, even if Stella isn’t there. Plus, I have at least two other events to worry about.”
Kerry finds her shoes and puts them on. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, grab my jeans, and toss them on. I stand and grab Kerry, bringing her into my body for a hug. “That woman is mad.”
Kerry nods into my chest. “I know.”
“Don’t let her get to you. Do what you can. No sense in bending over backward for someone who won’t appreciate it.”
“This is only for Stella.”
“Okay. I have to admit that I hate that you have to leave so soon.” I release her and she pulls back, her eyes traveling the entire length of my body.
“And I have to admit that you look absolutely delectable right now. Shirtless. Low-hung jeans. Tats everywhere. No shoes. I wish I didn’t have to go. And I also wish I didn’t have morning breath, because I’d kiss the hell out of you right now.” She covers her mouth, expressing the universal sign for morning breath. I copy her action and chuckle.
“I have to get home and changed before Rachel sends out a search party for me. I’ll see you later?”
“Okay.”
She hugs me for an elongated moment. “Oh my God, and you smell so good,” she says in a low voice. I chuckle again and kiss the top of her head. She releases me and takes her warmth with her. A warmth I know I’m going to crave later on.
She rushes toward the stairs and I follow her, making sure she is able to get out okay. She unlocks the door to my apartment and then the one to the shop. I watch her for a moment as she takes off down the street in a nearly full-on run. Then I lock the shop door behind me and head upstairs.
I grab the carton of juice from the fridge and take a big swig. I amble my way over toward the window and retrieve a sketch pad and pencil. As I sit and begin to sketch Kerry’s lotus, I think back to the day at Swirl and about what she told me regarding the meaning of the tattoo.
A lotus thrives in an environment that other flowers cannot. It is beauty in a sea of murkiness. It doesn’t let negativity determine its success.
That sounds kind of perfect for Kerry.
As I sketch, I remember the first time I saw her. It wasn’t the night she came into the shop with Stella. The first time I saw her was at Clay & Soul, when I didn’t even know who she was. I watched her sculpt and sway with her eyes closed, and all I could see was magic. Beauty. Serenity. Everything about her was a masterpiece. She was art. The essence of tranquility.
I try to incorporate these things into the sketch. I never know if my interpretation of things will translate to other people. This morning, though, I don’t care about other people. All I care about is Kerry.