He glanced at her arms, at the ink swirling around. One sleeve was black ink, the other was color. The black sleeve looked like a whole thing while the other arm was little tattoos and large tattoos that weren’t interconnected to each other.
“Would you tell me what they mean?” He indicated the ink he could see at the moment.
Bella winked again. “Nope. That’s way too personal. Although…” she pointed at a squid taking down a ship. “That one I got because I liked it. Actually, most of the things on this arm I got because I liked them. I saw something similar and had people draw their version of it for me.” She pointed to a red and purple rose. “I like this one. I mean, I have lots of roses, but I like this one best. And this one…” she moved her hand up and indicated a unicorn and a doughnut. “I seriously got these just because I saw them online and thought they were super funny and cute. And random. That’s it. No story behind those ones. Don’t ask me about my sleeve though. Like, for years, and I doubt we’ll make it that long, so I’m sure I’m safe.”
“Never say never. You might be surprised.” He parroted a version of her earlier words back to her.
“Seriously, I doubt it. But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about closure.”
“What if I don’t want closure? What if I want to have sex with you and I want it to be good and I know it will be because it was the first time, and I want it again and again and I don’t want it to end or ever be over.”
“That’s not closure at all then.”
“I guess I changed my mind.”
“Or you’re going against your better judgment, just like I am. Like I did when I agreed to get in that car with you knowing full well how it was going to end up.”
“I screwed that up. I’m sorry.”
Instead of getting mad at him, Bella’s lips quirked up. “I might have some hang-ups from assholes in the past. I don’t want to talk about it. Ever. Maybe I have some hang-ups about this too, given who you are. Given that I don’t do this. Date. Be with people. Ever. I thought I’d take a break since it never worked out in the past. I’m sorry I got offended far too easily and stalked off like a crazy person. I mean, most people probably think I’m crazy because what normal woman gets this many tattoos, but really, I’m pretty normal. Even if I am the black sheep of my family. I feel like doing the opposite of what they want is more normal than not.”
“I’m not going to argue you with you there. I spent seven years as a part of that family. I was glad to get out.”
“Yet you’re here with me.”
“You’re different.”
“What if I’m not?”
“You are.”
“You don’t know that.”
Rhett shifted. Bella sat frozen. She didn’t pull away when he brought his hand up and caressed her cheek. She was warm, her skin as soft as velvet. His hands weren’t rough, but he felt like they were rough next to her. “You are.”
She didn’t protest when he brought his face close to hers. She closed her eyes and parted her lips in invitation. That was all he needed. He was done talking. It was easy to forget about the car, about the field, about the silent drive home, and get right back to where they were before when his lips met hers.
That instant chemistry was back, the buzz that ripped through his veins, the high that he was constantly riding. She was like a drug. The best drug. He wanted more. He never wanted to stop. He kissed her, explored her mouth, took his time, started up the fire that ravaged his bloodstream and consumed his entire existence. He lost himself in her.
When he pulled away, her eyes flickered open. They were both breathing heavily. She’d said she thought it wouldn’t work. That they had no chemistry. That this was supposed to be a form of closure, but she wasn’t looking at him like that. Instead, there was warmth in her gaze and something equally as warm and soft flooded his chest.
It felt a little like- like a crush. Like he was back in high school and Bella was that unattainable bad girl that moms warned their sons to stay away from. Of course, he was drawn to her like a beacon, but it was only because he knew that underneath those layers of wit and humor, she’d been hurt before. Just like he had. Because they weren’t high school kids with their first crush. They were adults who had been out in the real world for a long time. Long enough to get jaded. To become afraid. To build up walls.