Page 106 of Courtroom Drama
The smell of jasmine.
Him and me.
I used to believe these things were the past. A suspended, ungraspable moment in time. But now I know they are alive in every bit of me—us—more organism than memory. They always were. They always will be.
We lie together for what seems like several hours, long enough for the sky outside to begin to dull. He holds me tight, as if afraid I might leave. I don’t ever plan to.
I roll to face him, unable to help my pointer finger as it gentlytraces the tattoo over his heart. “Why Prince Hamsterdinck?” I ask, the tip of my nail outlining the thin whiskers jutting from the right side of its face.
“You know why.”
“I know it’sus, which I love, but of all the things we shared back then, why this in particular?” I press my palm over the tattoo, only its furry sides visible.
Damon is momentarily thoughtful, looking to the ceiling, then lifting my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Hiding that silly thing was the happiest I ever was in my life. Choosing the perfect spot to hide it. The anticipation of you finding it. The look on your face whenever you didactuallyfind it.” He huffs, the Damon version of a good-natured chuckle. “It was so... easy. Just fun. I wanted to bottle that.”
We kiss for what feels like hours more.
“I should kick you out before Mel gets home,” I say finally, eyeing my still-open bedroom door.
He groans.
“I know, I’m sorry. But if she walks in and sees this, well, trust me, it’s for your own good.”
He kisses my forehead, a long, deliberate press of his lips to my skin. “Okay,” he concedes.
I watch as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed, stands, and begins collecting his clothes from the ground. I watch his body as it twists, bends, flexes. He is exquisite.
“I can feel you ogling me,” he says after he’s pulled his boxer briefs into place.
“Good,” I respond.
He picks up his jeans and, as if remembering something, reaches into one of the pockets. “I have something for you,” he says. He pulls out a small piece of folded paper. He hands me the note, his face tender, jaw muscle flexing. I unfold it carefully, flicking my eyes up to smile at him as I do. A note from Damon Bradburn will always make me melt.
WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?
?
?
YES
