Page 77 of Save Me

“What type of fish are those?”

I spend the next ten minutes detailing the exotic, vibrantly colored fish, the types of reef I had grown along with the kind of bullet proof glass that I had installed to ensure the aquarium won’t crack or break over time.

“Running everything must cost a fortune,” she comments, peering at the overhead neon lights that keep the aquarium lit overnight.

“It’s worth it.”

She turns in my arms, and I slide my hands down to cup her ass cheeks, holding her to me.

“Let me guess. You wanted to be a marine biologist growing up?” A playful smile tugs the corners of her mouth.

“Not quite.”

“You love the ocean and decided to bring some of it into your home?” she asks before taking a sip of coffee, peering at me with those big, expressive eyes over the brim.

“Something like that,” I answer.

Kennedy traces the part of my tattoo where the sun peeks out from behind the branches of the tree leaves with her finger.

Her touch jolts my senses.

“And this?” she asks, mesmerized by my tattoo. “These are cherry blossoms, right?”

“They are.” I nod.

“It was spring when we visited Korea,” she says, a reminiscent smile appearing. Her eyes meet mine. “I just felt your heartbeat through your skin.”

Her mentioning her trip to Korea made my heartbeat kick up.

“Spring was my mother’s favorite time of year,” I tell her. “She rarely had any free time because she worked so much, but she’d take off one day every spring to take me to see the cherry blossoms.”

“This tattoo is for your mom.” Her hand flattens against my chest.

“Partially.”

Her eyes meet mine, the silent question in them.

“Spring represents new beginnings. I got this tattoo not long after moving to the States to remember my mom, never forget where I come from, and to symbolize that I’m not bound by my past either.

“I get to decide who I am and how my life plays out from now on. That’s exactly what I’ve done.”

Kennedy stares at me for a beat before placing her coffee mug on the glass table. She returns to my arms, wrapping one arm around my shoulders, and uses her other hand to run her fingers through my beard.

“I bet your mother would be proud of you.”

A lump forms in my throat. I don’t have anything to say. It feels like she filled a spot in my heart I didn’t know was empty.

Neither one of us says anything for a while. But her hand strokes the side of my face, beard, and chin. Her thumb finds the scar hidden beneath the hairs on my chin.

“Tell me what this is from,” she whispers.

I shake my head. “One day,” I tell her. Maybe.

I press a kiss on her forehead. “You need to eat before I take you back upstairs and make good on my promise to keep you naked this weekend.”

“That’s not going to happen,” she insists when I scoop her into my arms. “You have enough food in your fridge to feed a village,” she says as we enter the kitchen. “I planned to start breakfast, but then I got distracted staring at your aquarium.”

“You need to eat,” I say, putting her down onto one of the white leather stools at the kitchen island.

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