rests her shoulder against the couch cushion, moving her body closer to my hand. “What happened eleven years ago that made you change your life entirely?”
“There was a girl, Carrie. She was twenty, and we were in college. She was beautiful, funny, and so full of life. I was crazy about her.” I keep my eyes on Arlo as I talk, trying to get the words out no matter how painful the memories are. “We got into a car accident, and she died. I was a mess for years. It took therapy and a lot of self-care before I could forgive myself. But I knew I never wanted to experience that pain again. To do that, I couldn’t and wouldn’t allow myself to have any possibility of falling in love.”
She lifts her arm, placing her hand on my bicep. “I’m sorry, Mello.”
“Thanks, babe. It was a long time ago. But sometimes, I can still hear her laughter, and I know I’m the reason no one else will ever hear it again.”
“It was an accident, sweetie,” she says, giving me a sad smile.
“I know, but since I was driving, I’ll always question what I could’ve done differently to keep her alive.”
“That’ll only lead to sadness.”
“I know that too. Headed down that path for a long time, finding nothing at the end but a heaviness I couldn’t shake.”
Her fingers tighten on my muscle. “You don’t seem to be on that path anymore, though. You seem really happy.”
“I never stay still for long, Arlo. Stillness has always led me astray.”
“But you asked Lily to help you settle down, didn’t you? When she told me about it, I volunteered to help. In all honesty, I wanted to see you again.” She pauses, and we stare at each other for a second before she continues. “It’s the least I could do to pay you back, and the tattoo was a bonus.”
“I thought you came for my mad ink skills.” I dip my eyes to her ribs and my mark before going back to her face. “It is a work of beauty, just like the girl wearing it.”
“Does that shit work on people?” she asks with a smile.
“Usually.”
She laughs. “Women are too easy.”
“That they are.”
“And about us?”
“I’m thirty-one now and getting older. At first, it was a game to placate my cousin, but now…”
“Now what?”
I shrug. “I’m so fucking drawn to you, I think I’m going crazy.”
“I’m just the new girl and unconquered.”
“That’s not true. It’s something else. Something I can’t explain.”
“It’ll wear off.”
“A woman like you doesn’t wear off, Arlo.”
“We do…very easily, I can assure you.” She sighs, but there’s a pain behind the harshness of her exhale.
“If that were true, I wouldn’t have left the bar tonight alone. In my entire life, that has never happened to me. Never. Not even when I was seeing Carrie—we had an open relationship, before you think I was cheating on her. I never cheated because I was never exclusive.”
She blinks, her lips parted. “You’ve never been exclusive? Never?”
“Never.”
“You’re so weird,” she tells me, her fingers wandering aimlessly across the ink on my upper arm.
“I always thought people who were monogamous were the weird ones.”
She laughs, and it’s a glorious sound. “And now?”
“Still fucking weird.” I shrug. “I can’t change who I was. There’s no taking back my past, Arlo, but I can change my future.”
“We’re the masters of our own destiny,” she says softly.
“That we are, sweetheart. I should go,” I tell her.
“I don’t want you to go,” she says softly, not moving her eyes away from mine.
“What do you want, Arlo?”
“You,” she whispers.
I reach up, placing my hand on her cheek. “Then kiss me,” I challenge her, sweeping my thumb across her lower lip.
She doesn’t hesitate in putting her mouth on mine. Her lips are soft, full, and absolute perfection as she leans into me and slides her arms over my shoulders. I snake my arm around her middle, pulling her closer until our bodies are pressed together and our mouths are completely fused.
Everything about this moment feels right. The weight of her in my arms, the warmth of her skin pressed against me, the taste of her lips on mine. I could lose myself in her and do it easily.
I tear my mouth away from hers, knowing how hard it’ll be for me to stop if I kiss her too long.
“Do you know how crazy you sound?”
“I do,” I mutter, tilting my face upward. “God how I do.”