Page 38 of Catch You

“I’ve seen a lot worse,” I chuckle, picking up my machine and turning it on. She tenses beneath me at the sound. “So, if art’s not your thing, what are you good at?” I ask, hoping I can distract her a little.

“Um … I’m not sure I have a talent, to be honest. Ow, fuck,” she moans as I touch skin for the first time.

“I’d beg to differ. I think you’re very talented.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” she mutters.

“Why not? I think you’re a fantastic dancer.” She laughs, and I’m forced to stop what I’m doing as her body jiggles. The soft sound is too good to make her stop.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she says when she realises she’s making my life hard.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m not regretting it yet.”

“Life’s too short for regrets.” I don’t know why I say it, because the reality is that I spend most of my days drowning in mine.

“So you’d think.” The sadness in her voice pulls at something inside me.

“Sorry, I fucking hate that saying.”

“Me too.”

We both fall silent while a million questions hang in the air between us. I can see in her eyes that she wants to ask about my regrets just as badly as I want to know about hers. I might have suggested one date after this, but I’ve certainly not signed up for all the feelings and shit, so I force my mouth to stay shut, no matter how much I want to get to know what she’s hiding.

It’s two hours later when I finish off the drifting seeds and write names into three of them.

“Who’s this for?” I ask, although I’m not sure it’s a really good idea. If she wanted to talk, surely she’d have offered up the information?

“My parents and my sister. They were killed a few years ago.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “It is what it is. Nothing I can do about it now.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” I say, thinking of the people who I’ve lost that had a hand in my move over here. “What doesn’t break us only makes us stronger.”

“Jesus, you’re all about the one-liners today, huh?”

“Can’t help myself. That one I kinda believe in, though.”

“Me too. So now what?”

I blow out a breath, thinking of what I’d really like to do with her laid out here before me. “I can show you, and then we wrap it and go for dinner.”

I push my kit to the side and hold my hand out to help her up.

The sight of her in her underwear threatens to floor me, just like it did when she first pulled her dress off.

“Over here.” I pull her to stand in front of the mirror and grab another to hold behind her.

“Oh my God,” she gasps when she gets her first look at her ink.

“It’ll look better once your skin settles.” Where she’s naturally so pale, the redness around the ink looks extra angry right now.

“It’s incredible, Corey. Thank you.”

Lowering the mirror, I give in to my need to touch her. I step up behind her and place my hand on her waist, meeting her eyes in the mirror. They’re full with tears, but delight sparkles within them.

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