For some reason she wanted them on full display. It wasn’t to show off her ink. It was her way of sharing a piece of her soul with the world she tried to keep at bay.
One of the first things that caught me by surprise was how much she loved to read. Each night it was a new book. The innocence about her exposed every time she told me about the characters and the storylines, as if they were her friends or she was living vicariously through them. She beamed while she read and I could tell what was happening in the book based off her expressions. Especially if something bad was happening, she would place her hand over her heart. Like she was trying to hold it together.
Briggs also had sad moments. Her reflect time was what I called it. The way she would get lost in her own mind when she thought I wasn’t looking. How she would pretend to be sleeping when she knew I was watching her sleep.
Getting lost in her beauty.
These were just to name a few, and even though I cherished every new thing I learned about her, it wasn’t what I craved.
And the crazy thing about that was she knew it.
“Austin…” she pleaded for me to stop insisting on knowing her truths.
I wouldn’t until I knew them.
Every. Last. One.
“These last five months have been the best days of my life. Being with you.”
She swallowed hard, her resistance wavering.
“No one has ever made me feel the way you do. You have the ability to bring me to my knees with just a look. You’re my drug, my addiction. I know that Briggs is a part of you. I know she exists but I also know that she doesn’t. Tell me your name. And I’ll give you everything you’ve been dreaming about.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth parted.
“You talk in your sleep. You also kind of snore.”
“I don’t snore.” She tried to slap my chest but I caught her hand mid-swing.
“It’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.”
She sighed, revealing her internal struggle. “You’re my friend, Austin. My only friend. Trust me… I’ve let you in.”
I leaned in close to her face, our mouths a few inches apart with our connection never breaking. I didn’t falter and whispered, “I want to be your friend that makes you come. I want you in my bed. More than you’ll ever know. Just tell me your name…”
She looked deep into my eyes and lied,
“My name is Briggs.”
Chapter 18
<>Austin<>
“Austin, why don’t you ever take your shirt off unless we’re in our hotel room?” Briggs asked, looking over at me from the kitchen where she was making us some food.
I could see her out the corner of my eyes but didn’t look up to acknowledge her question. I was sitting on the couch adjacent to her with my notebook in my hands.
“Hmm…” I replied, barely paying any attention.
I was too caught up, my hand bleeding against the page.
“Your shirt? You don’t have a shirt on right now. You don’t even take it off when we’re at the beach or the pool. You barely wear one when we’re in our hotel rooms. So, I’m asking you the reason for that?”
I closed my notebook and set it beside me. I hadn’t shared my talent with her yet. She knew what my notebook was for. It was kind of hard to hide something from someone you have been with for seven months. But I hadn’t shown her any sketches yet. I wasn’t ready to let her into that part of my life, especially since she had yet to tell me her name.
She also wasn’t ready to see them.
I gave up on asking her what her real name was. Mainly because I was tired of getting disappointed and having her blatantly lie to my face. A man could only take so much let down. I think it bothered her that I stopped asking. She was getting lost in thought more often than ever before.
I grinned. “Are we sharing sad stories now, baby?”
She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at me.
“I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours,” I added.
She sighed, looking back down at the food she was preparing. Lost in thought again.
“That’s what I thought," I said under my breath.
I grabbed my notebook, walking toward the bathroom to shower.
“Austin,” she called out behind me, making me turn to face her.
“You can pick any tattoo on my body, except your favorite and I will tell you what it means," she said, gesturing up and down her body, wiggling her eyebrows.
I smiled, big and wide.
She was trying to make light of the serious situation. I watched her eyes go exactly where I wanted them, to the notebook in my hands. She wanted to know what I drew in there, probably as much as I wanted to know what her real name was.
I gravitated towards her like a magnet. My feet moved on their own accord, following the pounding rhythm of her heart that I knew was racing, fast and hard.
For me.
I couldn’t get to her fast enough. The anticipation was alive and breathing all around me, guiding me toward a little part of her that she was finally willing to share. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was a step in the right direction. Each stride brought me closer to her before I finally broke the distance between us.
Her eyes were silently begging me to touch her.