Aaron laughed too. “How fucking lame was I? Like a high school punk trying to woo the hot girl.”
Shivering, I wanted to touch him so badly. I wanted everything and had no patience for eating or small talk. My brain said to climb over the table and just take him. Picturing this sent me into hysterics and Aaron followed suit. We were just laughing like idiots because months of longing and plotting and failing had brought us to this cathartic moment.
After settling down, we smiled at each other. “Did Cooper know you liked me?” I asked. “Was that why he offered to have you fix my butterfly?”
“Yes,” he said then studied me. “Why do you have a worm?”
Still smiling, I felt a little of my confidence leave me. “My stepdad thinks tattoos are trashy. Larry doesn’t see them as art. When I went to get my butterfly, he sent his son to stop me.”
“I don’t get it. You’re an adult. What the fuck does he care what you do with your body?”
“He’s a control freak and thinks everything reflects on him.”
“He sounds like an asshole.”
“He is.”
“Well, even if I didn’t think you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, I’d turn that worm into a butterfly. The damn thing makes me sad. It’s like someone’s torn off its wings.”
“I had been embarrassed about it, but whatever you do will be a million times better than what I would have gotten. Not that the guy who was doing it wasn’t good, but your tattoos are…I don’t think there’s a word.”
“Are you into art?”
“I love art, but I’m not really an artistic person. If that makes sense.”
“It does. My parents are the same way.” Aaron ran a finger over the knuckles on my hand. “Mom took a few art classes, but she has no ability to create what’s in her mind.”
“I would love to take an art class at school, but I can barely afford the required courses.”
Aaron looked ready to say something, but stopped himself. Instead, he wiped away the sweat on his glass.
“Is it just you and your sister and the step siblings?”
“I had a little brother. Phoenix died when he was almost four.”
“How?” he said, taking my hand again.
“We were supposed to be watching him,” I mumbled, just saying the words without picturing what happened. “Raven and I were in dance class and we were practicing outside while Phoenix played with his little plane. We weren’t watching him and he must have dropped his toy in the pool and went in to get it. We weren’t paying attention and he drowned.”
“How old were you?”
“Six. Raven was eight.”
“Why were you watching a child?”
“Our stepdad was hung over and he told us to watch him.”
“Fuck that,” Aaron muttered angrily and the darkness in his eyes excited me.
“Phoenix was really sweet. Smart too and a good swimmer. I think that’s why he thought it would be okay.”
Aaron let go of my hand and joined me on my side of the booth. Startled by the suddenness of his gesture, I froze until his arms wrapped around me.
“You smile even when you’re sad,” he murmured. “It kills me to see that.”
Gazing up at him, I let my fingers slide over the cobra’s fierce expression. The tattoo was so realistic that I was surprised not to see my reflection in its cold black eyes.
“Phoenix was amazing. I wish every day we had watched him better and he could be here now.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, nuzzling his lips against my hair. “You realize there’s a reason the state doesn’t license children to be daycare owners.”
“I know that in my head. In my heart, I feel like I let him die.”
“Kids always think shit’s their fault.”
Even knowing what he was saying was true, I thought everyday of Phoenix floating in the pool. Raven and I were showing off and having so much fun while our baby brother drowned yards away. Logic didn’t stand a chance against the pain of such memories.
Aaron must have realized words wouldn’t soothe because he kissed me softly. My lips spread for his and I tugged at his tee. My leg wrapped over his as I sucked gently at his tongue.
Making out in public seemed so trashy when I saw others doing it, but now I couldn’t get enough of Aaron. Heaven was at my fingertips and I never wanted to let go.
Chapter Ten - Aaron
My mom always said I was a dreamer and she wasn’t wrong. In fact, one of the trickiest parts of growing up was learning to keep my dreams in line with what I could realistically attain. If I dreamed too big, I would end up disappointed. Disappointed enough and I’d be filled with unhappiness. My life was too damn good to be unhappy.