26
Tattoo
“Hey Wonderboy!”
I snapped my gaze up from where I’d been zoning out in my phone.
Charlie waved from the corner booth at my favorite deli. She and her companion could’ve been bookends in a Brooks Brothers campaign, save for her neon pink plaid skirt and black leather boots.
I crossed to their table. “They’re letting in all kinds now.”
“That’s what you get for sharing your favorite hideouts.” She grinned. “You remember Avery.”
I held out a hand. Charlie’s boyfriend, who wore a high-end navy suit and a purple tie I wished I had in my closet, gave it a firm shake.
“Your girl’s in my restaurant,” Charlie said smugly. I didn’t point out that Sam was neither my girl nor was the restaurant ‘Charlie’s restaurant’.
“Yeah, it’s great.”
Since our screening of Iron Man went from PG to 18A on my couch—no complaints—I hadn’t asked Sam to stay over, and she hadn’t asked to stay.
In that two week period, we’d hung out more days than not. At my place, or my office.
It almost always ended up with us in a sweaty mess.
I should’ve been glad we had a pattern, that I no longer had to justify wanting to spend time with her. Instead, the pattern itself disturbed me.
We were each other’s fix.
I didn’t want to be that for her. Or to get that from her.
“Ry. Did you hear me?”
I blinked, realizing Charlie was looking at me, expectant. “Sorry. Repeat that.”
Charlie’s gaze narrowed. “Are you okay?”
“No.” I blew out a breath. “Can I ask you guys something. As two people in a stable relationship.”
“Did you tell him we had a stable relationship?” Avery’s voice was low and amused.
“Stable wasn’t the word I used. But we do live together,” she reminded him.
“Which is why I need your advice.” Two heads turned toward me expectantly. “How do you get someone to realize they want more. From a relationship.” I shoved a hand through my hair. “Sam thinks I'm part of her past. And everything we’re doing, it’s like we’re filling in gaps. Holes we left ten years ago. I don’t want to do that anymore. I want a future. I want to build something better, with her.”
Charlie reached for her boyfriend’s hand. “People have this idea that you meet someone, you date them, one thing leads to another, and bam—you’re walking down the aisle with doves flying out of your ass. But it’s one thing to realize there’s a connection and something else to make the leap.”
“Meaning?”
She leaned in. “Meaning I know you’re used to getting your way, Wonderboy. But if she’s not there yet you can’t force it.”
“Right. So I should give her some space.” I considered. “That should be easy. I’m babysitting my niece tonight.”
“There you go.”
“I had no idea you thought so hard about this,” Avery said to Charlie.
“I’m very sensitive. And I’m a sucker for a good cause.”
He stifled a snort, turning it into a cough.
She turned back to me. “Now, we gave you dirt, you owe us some.”
I looked around. “Fine. That rumor that Jane Casey’s signed on to play the lead in Phoenix? It’s true.”
Charlie’s eyes lit up as she made a noise of excitement I’d never expected to hear. “If you’re looking for extras, Ry, I’m ready for my close-up. I have a headshot.”
“Surprisingly, you’re the fifteenth person to ask me about that.”
“But we’re friends.”
“I can’t tell if she’s joking,” I said to Avery.
“It’s never safe to assume,” he replied.
“Thanks for taking her for the night,” Grace said as she unbuckled Emily from her car seat. “We have a dinner to get to but we’ll be by to get her in the morning. Or you can drop her off.”
“I’m currently without a car.”
She made a strange face. “What?”
With all of the legal and accounting work done for end of the year, coupled with negotiating some annual deals and having the books triple-checked to ensure we wouldn’t run into another issue with payroll, I’d been too slammed to look into cars.
On top of that, there was buzz starting to build around the game. The media had started calling, wanting interviews with Max or with me.
Everyone wanted something from me. And none of them were the people I wanted to give myself to.
I’d been turning something over in my head since the night watching movies with Sam. She hadn’t brought it up again but part of me wondered…was I missing out on life by doing what was easy instead of doing what I wanted?
“Uncle Lee!” Emily hopped out of the car and jumped on me.
I grinned. “Hey Lightning.”
Her sigh reeked of impatience. “It’s not Lightning anymore. I’m a ninja!”
“Obviously,” I agreed.
Grace peered around Emily’s head. “Thanks for bringing her back that action figure from LA.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I brought her the Disney stuffy. She saw the other one in my bag and picked that instead.”
Grace paled. “Tell me it’s not worth a small fortune.”
“It is signed on the bottom.”
Her eyes closed briefly. “Okay. Bye sweetie, Daddy and I will see you tomorrow.”
They said their goodbyes then I packed Emily up the stairs with her overnight bag.
“What do you want to do tonight?”
“Movies! I want to watch Ninja!”
“Ninja isn’t out yet.”
And also had too many decapitations for a four-year-old.
In fairness, any decapitations were probably too many for a four-year-old.
“How about Dori?”
“DORIIII!!!”
We ate fish sticks and ketchup I’d bought her for dinner and watched Finding Dori on my giant screen. (The irony seemed lost on her.)
Emily discovered a new hobby, running along in front of the television pretending to ‘swim’ with her favorite life-sized characters.
The text came through near the end, accompanying the picture of a check.
Sam: Check out the zeros. I sold a painting today in the restaurant.
Riley: Seriously? Way to go, superstar
Sam: Let’s celebrate
Since running into Charlie and Avery earlier today, I’d told myself I wouldn’t push Sam.
So when I got her text, warmth spread through me. The fact that she'd been the one to initiate had to mean something, right?
I wasn’t sure what we were going to do that wouldn’t conflict with my babysitting duties, but I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
Riley: Come over around nine. Come in quietly.
Sam: You have another girl there?
Sam: ???
Riley: You’ll see.
After Dori achieved all her existential fishy desires, I suggested it was time for bed.
“Noooo!” Emily took off ‘swimming’ around the townhouse, giggling and flapping her chubby ketchup-streaked arms.
Ah well. I could hose her down after doing the dishes.
I let her play in the living room, keeping a close eye while I cleaned up from dinner.
Sam: On my way!
Riley: Door’s open come on in
Sam’s text sent a rush of anticipation through me as I worked on the dishes.
“What do you think Em?”
When my question was greeted by silence, I glanced over to see Emily passed out face down on the fluffy carpet, her hands curled into little fists next to her head.
God she was cute. Hopefully she wouldn’t wake up when I carried her to bed.
I put the last of the dishes away, enjoying the moment of peace and quiet.
Footsteps on the stairs had me smiling.
“Hey, you made it…”
I trailed off as I turned to find Sam hovering at the edge of the living room. Something was wrong. Her purse was lying on the floor, her face white and her hand over her mouth as she stared.
“Sam. You okay?”
I crossed to her, forcing her to look at me. “Hey. What’s wrong.”
I glanced over my shoulder, finally cluing in.
A child, face down and motionless.
Red streaks covering her pale skin.
Concern and empathy raced through me. “Sam. Emily’s fine. She fell asleep after dinner.”
“What?” Sam’s gaze came back to me but it was glassy, unfocused.
“Come on. Let’s sit down.” I helped her to my room, sat her on my bed.
Then went back for Emily. “Okay, Ninja,” I whispered in her ear as I scooped her up. “Time for bed.”
I cleaned her up, got her teeth brushed, and installed her in the pull-out couch in the theater room that I’d turned into a bedroom, sticking her favorite toys—the soft ones, not the action figure—around her.
“Night Em.”
“Night Lee.”
I left on the circus nightlight I’d bought her for her third birthday and turned off the overhead light before going back into my room.
“Sam?”
No answer.
No Sam, and no indication she’d been there save for a few wrinkles on the bedspread.
I walked through the house, noticing the door of the spare bedroom ajar.
She sat on the window seat, her knees pulled up tight to her chest.
“Hey,” I murmured. “You alright?”
I reached for the light switch but she stopped me. “Don’t.”
Ignoring the pull deep in my gut that always took hold in the dark, I crossed to her.
“Come here.” I shifted onto the window seat and swiveled her, pulling her back against my front and wrapping my arms around her.
“You forget,” she murmured against my forearm. “You forget what it’s like not to breathe.”
I pressed my lips against her neck, the hair that stuck to her skin from the cold sweat.
She turned in my arms. “I loved her so damned much, Lee,” she said when she found her voice. “And I loved you too. And the art I used to do. I didn’t want to forget any of it. But everything I’d loved has hurt. And I wanted to stop hurting.” She shivered and I held her tighter. “It feels like being eaten alive.”
“I get it. Believe me.”
“How did you get over it? The fear of the dark?”
I looked around us in the corners of the empty room. “You don’t.” I turned back to her, my thumb brushing over her cheek.
Sam’s lips parted, her eyes full of emotion. “It’s beautiful. This room, I mean. You should use it.”
“It needs a little work.” I craned my neck to look up at the ceiling, the molding that ran the length of the walls.
“We all do,” she said, and I smiled.
She pulled my arm into her lap, started tracing patterns in my arm with a careful finger.
Need streaked through me. Not the physical need, though there was always that with her. The need to be close to her. To know her, and to know what she knew.
I tilted my arm toward the meager light coming in the window, like I was trying to make out the invisible shape.
“What’re you drawing?” I asked.
“You and me.” Sam dropped her finger away, making like she was inspecting her work.
“Because of my mad skills?” Her lips curved in the darkness.
“Because it’s us.”
The words could've been a weight, one more reminder of the fact that I wanted something she didn't.
“Hey Sam.” I tried to put into words the feeling that'd been bugging me lately. “Why don’t you want anything from me?”
“What do you mean?”
I took a breath, thinking about her words from before. “Someone told me I don’t let people in. And maybe it’s true. But you… you see me. You see everything. I don’t know if you broke in, or if I gave you the key. Either way, you’re in my head.” And my heart. “But it's like you don’t want to be there. Like you see everything I have and everything I am and you don't want a part in any of it.”
“That’s what you think?” She tilted her face up to meet my gaze. “I’ve felt a lot of things for you, Riley McKay,” she murmured, a fierce conviction in her voice. “Sometimes it's like I've felt every feeling possible, like they've bent my body and my heart out of shape for feeling them. And even though I don't know if I can go there again?” She grazed my jaw with careful fingers. “I don't know if I can stop.”
Something had changed in her, in us, tonight. I could feel it in her even before she shifted into my lap, straddling me. It was like a breeze through an open window. The change of the seasons. The relief of drawing fresh breath after being underwater for far too long.
When her mouth found mine it was soothing and urgent at once.
We stripped off our clothes, shifting on the window seat.
Without pulling my mouth from hers I managed to lay her down beneath me.
She was beautiful, even in the dark. I’d never gotten what she meant about seeing something, but now… without the light I could feel her more. Sense her. Smell her. Every imagined curve, and swell, and look.
My fingers slid down her body, finding their way between her thighs where she was already soaked.
“Lee,” she whispered against my lips, with an upward inflection at the end.
“I love it when you say my name like that.” My chest tightened.
She watched me with hooded eyes. “I don’t want to be afraid of anything. Not with you.” I blew out a heavy breath as her finger trailed down my cheek, my jaw.
“I don’t want that either.”
“Good.” Sam hesitated, longing and uncertainty on her face in equal measure as she pulled her lip between her teeth. “I’m on the pill.”
I blinked.
Wearing a condom had been unquestionable for me. I was hardwired to use protection given the way I’d come into the world.
But I wanted this.
Not only because I wanted children someday, or because I trusted her implicitly, though both were true.
Because nothing between us could ever be wrong.
“Okay, then,” I said quietly.
Her mouth fell open. “Okay?”
I nodded. “Let’s do this.”
She stifled a giggle. “It’s not a Survivor challenge.”
“It could be,” I disagreed. “We might be doing this for a long time. No breaks for food, or water…”
Her face, full of emotion, dissolved into a smile as she pulled me toward her.
I grazed her warm, welcome heat with my cock and she moaned, closing her eyes.
I didn’t know how it would feel, but something told me there was nothing I could do to prepare for it.
I claimed her mouth as I pressed inside her. My heart stopped.
At least, that’s how it felt.
My senses were gone. I was blind to the world.
All I could feel was her, slick and hot around me.
I didn’t stop. I drove into her, finding a rhythm that had us both gasping.
There was the wood ledge, hard under my knees, and the darkness, threatening to swallow me whole. More than either of those there was Sam, my light through it all.
And she was more than enough.