She eyes the spot and nods. “And what exactly do you want?”
“A dahlia.” Her eyes widen and I’d swear even begin to fill with tears. “And right beside it a pair of lips. Bright red.”
Her tongue slides out at those words, rubbing right over where there’s the barest hint of red stain from the lipstick I kissed away.
“Are you sure?” She’s staring at me in awe. Both of us are covered in ink, and despite my sometimes less than stellar choices—like the anchor on my ankle—we both know putting something permanently on your body is a big deal, especially when it’s a very obvious declaration like this is.
“Never been surer.”
She still looks hesitant but goes about getting everything ready. “What color for the dahlia?” She’s bent over, and when she looks over her shoulder at me her hair falls forward and for a moment I’m breathless.
How is it possible that this beautiful ethereal creature likes me?
“Purple,” I answer. “Like this.” I quickly bring up an image on my phone, showing her the exact shade.
She nods and mutters to herself as she finishes gathering everything she needs.
While her tattoos are mostly black and red ink, I’ve gone for a more hodge podge—or I guess you could call it eclectic—look for mine, with all different colors depending on what I wanted for the design.
Once she starts, I can’t help but watch her in awe. I’ve never seen Alba in action. She’s focused, I don’t think anything could distract her right now and as much as I want to try I won’t, and there’s a spark in her eyes I’ve never seen before, one that tells me she’s in the zone.
I don’t pay attention to the time that goes by, too engrossed in studying her nuances, but suddenly she’s standing up and telling me to go take a look in the mirror.
My body groans with stiffness from sitting for so long, but it’s worth it when I see the finished product. The dahlia looks almost 3D and the layers of colored ink seem to make it glow. The red lips beside it are a perfect match for Alba’s.
“What do you think?” she asks shyly when I turn around.
I cross the space between us until we’re toe to toe. My worn boots against her black Converse. “It’s perfect.”
“Really?” She sounds surprised, which is insane because her art is beautiful.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Alba.”
“You wouldn’t?” She arches a brow in challenge.
“Babe, I’m many things but a liar isn’t one of them.” I let her cover the tattoo and help her clean up before we go. Taking her hand, I kiss her knuckles. “Let’s go get our girl.”
She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
Fuck.
I want this. Her. Dahlia. A family—my family.
Chapter Fourteen
Alba
It’s quite strange how quickly you can get used to a new normal.
I’m not at all surprised when I head downstairs and find Travis in the kitchen making pancakes, singing to Dahlia who swings back and forth in the new baby swing he bought for her because he thought she’d love it. He was right too. She’s obsessed. She grabs at her sock covered feet, cooing like she’s trying to sing along with him.
The man can’t sing, but I give him an A for effort.
“Do you need any help?”
“No, I’m almost done. Just sit down.”
“You know,” I draw out the words, “this would be ten times hotter if you were wearing an apron.”
He scoffs like the idea is offensive, but then purses his lips in thought. “Next time.”
I cackle, amused by the soft side of him I never appreciated before. It’s like I decided to hate him from the get-go, when really he’s…well, he’s kind of my perfect match.
He slides a plate with pancakes in front of me, already buttered and drenched in syrup. Just the way I like them.
“So,” I hedge, wiggling in the chair, “I’ve been thinking about something.”
“And what’s that?” he asks around a mouthful.
“Well, it’s just…you’ve been staying here exclusively the last month.”
He arches a brow. “You telling me to leave?”
“No, no.” I shake my head rapidly despite the humor in his tone. I rub my lips together, nervous because Travis and I have yet to put a label on what we are. All I know is things have moved quickly since he returned to town, but sometimes you can’t put a timeline on these sorts of things. “I was thinking that maybe if you want…you could…move in?”
His eyes widen and he’s speechless. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Travis at a loss for words.
“You want me to move in? Permanently?” He blinks, blinks again, like he’s trying to make sure he’s not dreaming
“I mean, only if you want to. That might be something you don’t want,” I ramble, realizing I’m basically repeating myself. “But you spend so much time here anyway, you’re taking over my dresser drawers, not to mention the sink, and—”
One second he’s across from me and the next he has my face cradled in hands, his lips silencing mine. “Shut up already and let me answer.” I stare, waiting for him to finish. “Yes.” He sits back down and goes back to eating his stupid pancakes like we didn’t just agree to something monumental.
A sigh rattles my chest. “Travis?”
“Mhmm?”
“What are we?”
“Well, you’re a female and I’m a male, we’re both homo sapiens—”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You living here is a big deal but we’ve never discussed us.”
“I didn’t know we needed to.” He shrugs. “You’re my girl and that’s that.”
He says it so simply. So easily. Like it’s no big deal at all.
“Ugh!” I groan, throwing my hands in the air. “I love you!” I blurt out, my cheeks heating at my sudden outburst. “What do I mean to you?”
His lips part, syrup drying in the corner of his mouth. Then a huge smile takes over his whole face, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I thought you’d never admit it.”
“Admit what?” I ask stupidly even though I know exactly what he’s going to say.
“That you love me.” He gets up and holds out his hand for me. Hesitantly I slide my hand into his open palm and let him pull me up. “For the record, I love you too. I don’t know when it happened. It’s like it was slowly and then all at one. Like an avalanche gathering speed,” he rambles. “One second it was innocent flirting and fuckery.”
“Yeah, yeah, you like stealing my shit, I get it.”
“Shush.” He presses a finger to my mouth. “Let me finish.”
I mime zipping my lips and throwing away the key.
“The next I don’t know how exactly it happened, but for one night you were mine, and we created the most beautiful perfect little girl together. You know that saying everything happens for a reason? That’s us Alba. Everything happened for a reason to lead us together, to each other, to this moment, to her.” We both turn to look at Dahlia, drool dripping down her chin as she giggles at the jungle animals hanging above the swing. “So yeah, crazy girl, I love you too.”