Page 48 of Dirty Play

“They’re not you.”

It’s like his whole demeanor is one big contradiction. His eyes are soft, jaw clenched. But he continues on. “This is a big celebration for them. They have been married for forty years and have three grown-ass children, and if it means a lot to them, I should try to be there to celebrate. There are already enough people who won’t be able to make it—I don’t want to be one more.”

I stare at him, unsure what to say. The only thing I do know is that now I have to figure out how to convince Dr. Dickhead to give me two weeks off to take care of this grump. In his hometown. All the while trying to figure out what the heck we are doing.

Shit.

“Fine. But we’re taking your car, and since I have to drive I get to pick the music. And we’re stopping to get snacks… but like, road trip snacks, not that healthy shit you try to pass off as a snack. These are non-negotiable,” I finally say, not missing the way his face lights up. “I’m sure I’ll come up with more stipulations—those will be non-negotiable as well.”

“Thanks, Tink,” Cade says before his hand slips behind my head, turning me toward him. “I owe you one.” He leans in, pressing his lips to mine in a slow, languid kiss that has my toes curling, but then, as quickly as it began, he’s pulling back.

With a quick smile, he wraps his arm around me and pulls me in, pressing play on the next movie. We spend the next couple of hours watching the third and fourth Harry Potter movies—ordering pizza in the middle, which we’ve already devoured. Now that I’ve made sure Cade’s had all of his medication, I’m going to be surprised if he stays up much longer.

To the surprise of no one, Cade falls asleep within minutes of starting the next movie, his head resting against my shoulder while he snores softly. He looks so peaceful—so happy, and I love getting to see him like this. It’s such a contrast to his usual grumpy demeanor, never feeling worthy of those close to him, ignoring all of us who try to show him just how deserving he is.

Forcing myself to stop staring for a minute, I grab my phone and shoot a text out to the girls.

Me: I might need another girls’ night soon.

Cassie: How about later this week?

Me: I’ll be in Ivy Falls then.

Sawyer: Ivy Falls? Isn’t that where Harris and Cade are from?

Cassie: GWEN. WHY ARE YOU GOING THERE?

Me: Cade sort of asked me to.

Ellie: We’re gunna need a little more than that.

Me: He’s still recovering from surgery so he figured it would be easiest to have help while he traveled home.

Sawyer: SURGERY? What the hell is happening? Why am I just finding out about all of this now?

Me: Come over in the morning? I'll explain everything.

Cassie: You better be ready to play 672 questions because I need all the details.

Setting my phone down, I look back over at Cade, who is still sleeping peacefully. I definitely don’t mind that he’s resting because it means I can finally get an up close and personal look at his tattoos. I’ve been dying to do this since I saw them the first night we hooked up. I’ve seen his full sleeves up close before—a combination of different shapes and hockey designs, a deep black against his skin, they’re beautiful. But I've never gotten a good look at his chest piece. The shapes spill out from his left arm over to that side of his chest, where there are trees—evergreen trees, six of them. Two big trees, three small trees, and one last tree off to the side, all by itself.

It reminds me of those family bumper stickers. It’s beautiful, even if I don’t understand it.

Unable to help myself, I take the Sharpie I’ve been coloring with and start drawing on his skin, in the blank space on his arms between his other tattoos. I start slowly, pressing lightly as I draw a small circle to start a flower, stopping to see if he wakes up.

Thankfully, his breathing remains steady, his soft snores continuing, letting me know I can keep going. After that, I start to draw more at a time, slowly filling the space on his forearm with little flowers. It’s the only thing I can think to draw that doesn’t look like a four-year-old who tried to draw with their eyes closed.

Thirty minutes later I’ve drawn tiny little flowers throughout most of the blank spaces on his arm while watching Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I’m instantly reminded that Dolores Umbridge is one of my least favorite characters in these movies—only behind Bellatrix, of course.

When I grab my phone and shine the light on his arm, I can’t help the giggle that escapes when I look at my handiwork. The stark contrast between his dark, detailed designs and my thin-lined flowers looks silly, yet somehow it works perfectly, almost like they were meant to be there.

A piece of me loves the fact that I marked him, that somehow, maybe, I can make him mine.

But that thought scares me as much as it excites me. I’ve spent years single. Years dating only my job, spending my free time thinking about work and never going out on dates. With the help of Dr. Dickhead, I got it in my head that I couldn’t be good at my job and be a good girlfriend.

But what if I can do both?

I mean… I have been spending more and more time with Cade these last couple of weeks and I've had no complaints about slacking off at work. I’ve still spent the same amount of time at work. In fact, I even picked up a couple of shifts this week.

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