I grin. “I’ll have to make our future happen.”
“I get what you’re saying,” she replies. “But what if…you know, I’ve never tried to make the future happen before? What if I’m not up to the challenge?”
“It’s not a challenge,” I tell her gruffly. “You’re my woman. You don’t have to do anything special or act a certain way. Just be yourself. Be you…be there, be….”
I trail off.
Be naked and sexy and moan in that sweet way when I suck your nipples.
“Between this and that dance you did for me when getting into the jumpsuit,” I say, “you’re really driving me crazy today.”
She picks up her hot cocoa, pursing her lips as she blows on it. “That’s my specialty.”
CHAPTERTWENTY
Lauren
“Did you start with tattoos?” he asks, cutting into his steak.
Having an early dinner leaves us enough time to drive back to the runway, hop in the helicopter, and return to the city…enough time for us to sneak around and hide this amazing thing we’re building together.
“Or was it a different kind of art?”
“I was a portrait artist as a kid,” I tell him. “I loved drawing ever since I was little. I was lucky enough to have Dad as my…well, Dad. So he was able to enroll me in lessons. And then, one day in high school, I found this book on tattoos in the public library. I became obsessed, as in I started staring at people everywhere, analyzing their tattoos.”
He watches me, a patient look on his experienced features. It’s like he could listen to me all day.
I’ve never had that kind of attention, and definitely not from my crush.
No, not crush, not anymore, the man who wants the same as me.
My everything.
“There’s something so brave about tattoos. We put them there in…in defiance, I think.”
He keeps staring, silently telling me he wants me to keep going. He doesn’t have to say anything.
It’s like we’ve skipped a bunch of stages. The need allows both of us to act like a couple who’s been together for years.
“We don’t care if we won’t feel the same one day. Or if we might not like it. Or any of that. We put it there as a big middle finger to the world, a way to say, ‘I’m here. I’m beautiful. I don’t care what you think.’”
He grins, sticking his middle finger up. “I’m here. I’mbeautiful. And I really don’t care what you think.”
I reach out, making to grab his finger, and he quickly moves it away.
Of course. No touching.
“Maybe I’m just talking crap.”
“No,” he says firmly. “There’s definitely something to that. And I like hearing about how you fell in love with your craft.”
We eat for a minute or so. I’m careful not to let the juices from my burger drip down my chin, but then the sauce explodes out the other end all over my hand.
I place the burger down, about to freak out for a second.
But then I see Silas giving me a look that says,‘it’s not the end of the world.’
Suddenly, I find myself laughing, and he does the same. He’s not laughing at me. We’re doing it together, at the absurdity that I’d need to get flustered about this when we can just laugh since we’ve got each other.