because they symbolize a nurturing nature which, ironically, she hasn’t always had but not because she doesn’t want to be. My mom loves us all very much. She felt in order to take care of us we needed a complete family. In her mind, that meant we needed a dad. So even through her disappointing moments—she meant well.” My face must have shown the sorrow I was suddenly feeling for Corey and his sisters. I knew all too well about absentee parents. Before I could offer support, he continued.
“The dragon though is for me.” A beautifully colorful Chinese dragon twisted around from his forearm to shoulder. It was easily his biggest piece. “The dragon is the strength and protector of the family, which is something I have always tried to be. If anyone tried to harm them, they had me to contend with.”
“Corey, without even knowing your family, I can guarantee you were their rock. I can see it in the way you talk about them; your entire demeanor brightens. The only person in my family that has ever looked that way when talking about me is my Grandpa.”
“Can I admit something to you and not have you freak out?”
My face dropped in mock horror. “I never freak out.”
He snickered. “Yes you do, Danielle. Anytime I mention something that I feel has left a scar from your past, you stare at me like I just shot your puppy.” Shit—apparently I hadn’t been hiding that as well as I thought.
As if reading my thoughts, Corey took my face in his hands. “You may think your walls are keeping people from what’s inside but I see it. Even in the months’ time that I’ve known you; I have learned every curve of your face. The way your eyes change when you are happy, aroused or scared and when you do this,” he whispered as his thumb moved to my lips. “When you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, I know you are feeling something you don’t want to say. That’s how I know my words mean something to you…even if you haven’t said it.”
“They do mean something, Corey.” I blew out a sigh. “They mean everything.” I admitted meekly. In all my past relationships, I have never had a man point out the little things about me that even I didn’t know. With Corey, I felt my heart believing every word coming from his mouth. He had nothing to gain by saying those things; most times I have heard something sweet pouring out of a guy’s mouth, it was usually to sweet talk me into bed. Corey already had me there.
A slow grin crossed his lips before placing a kiss on my cheek. “Now can I be honest with you?” Oh right—the whole point of that lovely speech was so I wouldn’t run at his confession.
“Yes.” With an opening like that, how was I supposed to say no?
“From the little you’ve told me and the other stuff I’ve figured out on my own, it pains me that you haven’t had someone to protect you. That you have hurt and suffered and not had someone tell you that everything was going to be okay—and mean it.” A few stray tears rolled from my eyes as they squeezed shut. Words couldn’t express how close to home he was at identifying the depths of my fears. Corey’s lips brushed kisses across my cheeks to dry the streaks. His arms enveloped me to him. I focused on controlling my breathing to keep away the growing need to sob like a fool. We said nothing for several minutes while I regained control. When I pulled away, I needed to change the subject from these draining topics and get back to something I knew wouldn’t break me down.
“So, which one was your first tattoo?” My voice croaked out. After a minute of assessing whether or not I was emotionally stable, he lifted his right arm and pointed to a figure on the inside of his bicep. I just about squealed when I recognized the design permanently etched in his skin. Max from Maurice Sendak’s book “Where the Wild Things Are” stood with arms raised over his head and mouth open to let out a yell. My eyes traced the incredible accuracy; Corey was smiling when I looked his way.
“Max?” I asked.
“When my dad walked out on us I had to grow up pretty fast for my sisters. I used to love the book and decided that I