I wanted to lie but the concern in his eyes propelled the truth out of me. “There is too much light in here. We could go to my room.” My lips trembled. “It’s more private there.”
“You want to hide?”
“I won’t be able to do it if you’re looking at me. What if—what if you don’t like what you see?”
“What if I do?”
“You can’t say that, Ezra. You’ll probably be disg—” he cut me off by setting his lips over mine.
“Don’t ever say that again. You’re not disgusting.” He stared straight into my eyes holding my jaw in one hand. “You’re beautiful.”
“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m just speaking my truth.” He deadpanned. “I want you. I’ve been thinking about it since our kiss but if we’re going to do this, then the lights will have to be on.”
His confidence was admirable and made me feel all fuzzy inside. “Not going to happen.”
“I’m patient.”
“You’ll die waiting.”
“At least I’ll die with a purpose.”
“A stupid one.”
He let me go and bent to pick up his T-shirt. This close I could clearly make out his tattoos. There were so many. His entire back was covered and when he turned, so was his trunk. “You have tattoos.”
“Really?” He glanced down examining his chest. “I hadn’t noticed.”
I kicked him with my foot. “Why do you hide them?”
“I don’t. They’re strategically placed. I’m an accountant, and unfortunately appearances do matter. When I have a shirt and tie, no snobby asshole will look down on me or refuse to let me handle their books because of them.”
“Is that how you want to be seen? Like a good boy?”
“I am a good boy.” He placed a kiss on my forehead, slowly moved his mouth to the shell of my ear. “But sometimes I can be bad,” he said in a low, deep drawl. Heat blazed a trail down to my core.
I traced my fingers over the ink. Across his chest was an eagle with open wings. Beneath it, a skull surrounded by roses. Then some Chinese calligraphy. The writing beneath his collarbone read, if you don’t live for something, you’ll die for nothing.
“What do you live for?”
“I live to live, Christina. Keep moving forward no matter what.” He paused and his eyes darkened. “And now I live to see you naked all gloriously spread out for me. It will probably be amazing.”
A shy smile took over my lips. “Turn around,” I commanded, avoiding his eyes. He spun and I closely inspected the drawings on his back. Taking advantage of the situation, I skimmed my hands over his flesh. It was firm.
“They’re beautiful.”
“Thanks.” He pulled the shirt over his head and helped me off the countertop.
Eventually the salad was done. We sat on the couch watching an episode of Game of Thrones—my pick. I couldn’t believe he had never watched it.
Ezra leaned back on the couch and crossed his hands behind his head. There was one more question I had to ask. One that bothered me most of all. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that I was coming off awfully insecure by questioning every woman he’d brought to his bed. But thoughts had the potential to grow toxic and insecurities were the worst. I needed to put mine to rest.
“Is it true what you said the other day? Are you over the girl you used to draw? Are you over Melissa?”
He flickered his eyes from the screen to me. He didn’t tense or seem uncomfortable. “Yes, I am. I liked Melissa for a long time but she wanted someone else. I accepted it and moved on.”
“But isn’t it weird that I’m her best friend and we’re ...”
“We’re what, Christina?” He simpered. “Kissing?”
I slapped his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
“Honestly, I thought it would be, but when I saw her at your party it didn’t feel weird at all. Does it bother you?”
“Not really, well maybe a bit. I know nothing happened between you.”
He chortled. “I’m positive you know how many times she stood me up.”
I didn’t want to laugh but I couldn’t help myself. “You should’ve taken the hint after the second time.”
“I’ve learned my lesson.”
I sighed relieved. That chapter was closed. He was over my best friend.
Melissa’s wedding was getting closer and shockingly she hadn’t found a dress. She shuffled out of the dressing room wearing the hundredth wedding gown of the day, at this point, they all looked the same to me—white and puffy. We were surrounded by mirrors and whiteness. The store was decorated in white and clear crystals. I’d never seen so much white and fluff together in my life. It was everywhere.
“How about this one?” Melissa asked, pivoting while a woman followed holding the extensive train of the dress. “I love the neckline.” She ran her hand across it and I was waiting for the but to come.
“But ...” she continued and I sighed with exaggeration. “I don’t like the sparkles on the waistline.”
“Why didn’t you have your dress custom made?” Erica complained, pulling fur off the sofa. “At this rate, you’ll walk down the aisle in a bathrobe.”
Melissa’s shoulders slouched. “Because it’s a small wedding and I thought I could find something off the rack. And now it’s too late.”
“Well you haven’t found anything,” I said. “Start thinking of plan B, the clock is ticking.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Another shop assistant came from the back holding a new bunch of dresses.
“This is, like, torture.” Erica sunk into the sofa covering her face.
Melissa glared. “You should be the last one talking, Erica, after what you put us through to find your dress.”
“It wasn’t this bad.”
“I was a spectator on both occasions and I can impartially say that finding Erica’s dress was horrible—she was the ultimate bridezilla—but Melissa this is worse.”
Melissa pulled a face and then gave the shop assistant her attention. New dresses were hung at her display, she pointed to the next one and stripped off the dress she had on right there, in the center of the room, and stood only in her underwear and bra. Although the bridal store had been closed for her, the shop assistants were there—all female—but they were there, looking at her semi-naked body.
I could never do that.
She got into a new dress and from her expression, I knew it wasn’t the one. Another twenty minutes went by and Melissa was no closer to finding the dress.
While I watched my friend change, I pictured myself wearing one of the downy gowns. The thought made me smile and think of Ezra.
I took out my phone and typed out a quick message to him. Just checking if he had a good night.
“Why are you smiling?” Erica said, then pulled the phone from my hand. “Oh! She’s texting Ezra.”
“Erica,” I snarled. “You’re such a fucking kid. Give me back my phone.”