Page 103 of One Last Rainy Day
“Not if you don’t care.”
I do, but I can’t offer it to you.
I tuck my fingers into her silky hair before voicing more truth. “I’m not future centered. Plans don’t make the man.”
Because I tried that tactic and was blocked at every turn.
“I know, I know. Live in the now. Take each day as it comes,” she recites, “I get it, but isn’t there something you want?”
I’m holding it.
“No,” I jest, “but there’s obviously somethingyoudo.”
She stays silent for long beats, stiffening slightly in the crook of my arm. We’ve been copacetic since I accepted my fall, but something tells me what’s stirring inside her now has nothing to do with my refusal to give her promises.
Knowing she’s getting lost in her thoughts, I gently nudge her. “What?”
“I don’t like putting a voice to my fears. Because then, I can only expect them to come true.”
“That’s bleak,” I mutter.
“It’s better than not wanting anything in the future,” she counters dryly.
“I already know what happens,” I whisper.
“What do you mean? You can predict the future?”
In a fleeting second, I conjure the blueprint I tucked away for when the time is right. “I can predict mine because I make shit happen.”
“What is it?” she questions.
“Whatever I decide.”
When I’m finally unshackled.
“Just for once, can you give me a straight answer?”
I can’t help the twist of my lips as I run my eyes down the length of her. She floated down Roman’s porch steps hours ago, looking every bit my realized fantasy for our date.
Ourfirst,and mine. A secret I keep to myself. But a secret I share with her. Only her. Her greeting as she entered the Camaro was soft-spoken,“I missed you.”A genuinely whispered sentiment I’ve come to rely on—which keeps me aching to return it.
I did everything I could to make it memorable. I denied the easy affections I give her behind closed doors because, right now, I’m no longer in daily communication with Tobias—I think it’s because he may be on to us. He didn’t answer my last text after I ghosted him briefly when the weather permitted. But if he has caught wind of our deception, we may very well be under a watch we haven’t detected yet, which has me up in arms.
The familiar, ill feeling starts to sink in, and I banish it by craning my neck enough to peer over at her. Spotting a smear of black beneath her eyes, my gaze slowly drops to her swollen, thoroughly kissed lips, focus drifting between the faint marks on her neck and chest. Evidence of when I ravaged her the second we pulled up.Twice.Fixating on the freshly fucked look of her, I revel in the slight imperfections I created and how they got there. “What was the question?”
“Do you ever get jealous?”
“No.” A white lie. But not for any conclusion she may draw.
“Why?”
“Because he can give you things I can’t,” I admit honestly.
Sean can freely express himself to her, whereas I’m limited. His ink is etched skin deep, and though his promise is genuine, it’s ultimately up to him to keep stock in it. Even if the words are there for me, too—along with the need to claim her in totality—both of us have withheld staking that claim and putting a voice to it with so much deceit between us. Until she knows the whole truth, I can’t utter them—where Sean might. Because underneath my ink is a blood tie made with my brother, which binds me from being anything more than what I am to her now. That’s where any jealousy I harbor lies.
“I’m not complaining,” she whispers, “please don’t think that, but why can’t you?”
“Because I’m not like him. I’m a lot simpler.” Even now, it remains the truth.
