“Some things I never wanted to forget,” he says quietly. “Some stories are permanent.”
The floor creaks behind him, but neither of us break our gaze. My lips part, breath half-caught, teetering on the edge of something more.
Then the door opens with a soft push, and Tank’s black nose comes through first, with my sister close behind.
“Glad to see you’re alive, Pen,” she remarks, sassy and unaware.
A shower and two more cups of coffee bring me back to life—enough to throwon lounge clothes and join Jesse and Fia. But before I do, I pull out my phone, needing to discuss the life-shattering tattoo news I discovered an hour ago.
Penny:On a scale of 1 to 10 of “WTF” what would you rank discovering that your ex-boyfriend has your name tattooed on his body?
Mere seconds going by before three little dots appear.
Audrey:100!? Your name? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. That is not normal high school boyfriend activity.
Penny:Oh nothing about this is normal. I have to go, but just needed to see if I was in the right for feeling like I’m losing my mind.
Audrey:Don’t hate me, but I’m kind of living for this. Are there other lovers’ names on his body? Because if not, and it’s not covered up, he is 100% still in love with you.
Penny:Please don’t call them lovers.
The sounds of crackling wood and Fia’s laughter pull me into the cozy living room, and I slip my phone into my pocket. Fia keeps her eyes on the screen—Elfis playing, her favorite Christmas movie. She probably watched it a million times as a kid.
At the opposite end of the khaki-slipcovered sofa is Jesse, casually taking up so much space. He glances up as I enter the living room, and his green eyes settle on me. We haven’t spoken about what happened at Rebel Tavern.
We didn’t talk about the way he held my hand under the table, or how he slept next to me all night.
I don’t mention the enormity of my name being inked on his body either, even if it’s all that occupies my mind as I look at him.
Instead, he pats the empty space next to him, like he was expecting me.
“She lives,” he says with a small smirk.
“Barely.” I sit next to him, the few inches of space between his body and mine making my alarms go off.
“No work for you two today?” I ask, needing to draw the attention away from the fact that Jesse puts his arm up across the back of the sofa, and if I just lean a bit to the left, I’ll fall into the curve of his chest.
“I work tomorrow and have to pick up a Saturday morning shift. But today is my day off,” Fia replies.
Jesse’s eyes wander out the window. “Work gets quiet for me closer to Christmas.”
I nod, sucking in a deep breath, and look toward the kitchen.
“Is that a stack of waffles on the island?” I ask in disbelief, though I know I smelled cinnamon and vanilla.
Fia pulls the fleece blanket up to her chin, and that’s when I realize Tank is curled up on the other side of her. He is as close as he can get to her without crawling into her sweatshirt.
“Yeah, I made breakfast. Not all of us did shots last night,” Fia shoots back, brows raised.
I close my eyes temporarily, if only to block out my sister’s expression. “I did shots?”
“You had fun,” Jesse adds, and I turn my head to stare at him, wondering if he’s teasing, but his eyes are gentle, his mouth relaxed.
We’re too close with my head turned, so I scoot to the edge of the sofa and lightly clap my hands together. “How about a game?”
“A game? Has hell frozen over?” my sister asks, and I narrow my eyes at her.
I play with the knotted ties on my pale-pink hoodie and avoid eye contact. “I figured it’s cold, and no one probably wants to do anything today.” Wishful thinking, since neither of them are hungover like me. And if I was at my condo, I’d be binge-watching Netflix in bed and getting a smoothie delivered. Ultimate laziness and pure bliss.
