He throws his shirt back on and then sets me with a look. “Got any ink? And please let it be in a naughty spot.”
I laugh, pulling up my shirt and my bra where my little bitty anchor sits. Around it are the words, “A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor.”
“For your rough childhood?”
I smile as I nod. “Yup, Reese and Phillip took me to get it on my eighteenth birthday. They both got the same thing. Phillip’s is bigger on his calf, while Reese’s is on her thigh. It’s special to us.”
“It’s nice,” he says, tracing his fingers along it. “Any more?”
I shake my head. “Nope, I don’t live in a tattoo parlor like you.”
He laughs. “I’m due for a new one. I try to go every three months. You should come with me. I need one on the top of my arm.”
“Okay, just let me know when,” I say, letting my shirt fall.
Snaking his arms around my waist, he tickles my lower back as he looks up at me. “So what’s your schedule like during the week?”
“Well, I find out tomorrow the schedule for dance team, and Reese is waiting for that so she can move Skylar’s and my classes around with hers. I might be teaching all weekend only, which is fine. I love working with my little bits, and then my solos can come in on my downtime. I go to school every day. Classes are usually in the morning with free afternoons so I can study before going to work or whatever else I have that night. You?”
“Hockey in the morning, school in the morning and afternoon, and free weekends except when games start.”
I nod, knowing that this was how it was going to be. I’m so busy. I work two jobs, I’m doing the dance team now, and I’m going to school. Why did I think having a boyfriend would be a good idea?
“Told ya we won’t be seeing much of each other.”
He shrugs. “We’ll make it work. Lots of texting plus it will get us ready for the future when I’m rocking the NHL and you’re creating dances for famous artists.”
I laugh at that as I nod. “You kill me the way you do that. We’ve been doing this a day, Jude, one day, and you’re convinced you have my forever without even knowing my deep, dark past. You could hate everything about me at the end of this two weeks, but yet, you see a future with me. This isn’t a Disney movie, you know.”
“Of course it isn’t. We aren’t singing.”
That has me sputtering with laughter as I smack his chest, shaking my head. “You know what I mean!”
“I know. I just wanted to make you laugh,” he says, rubbing his thumb along my lip. “But really, I feel something about you, and you forgave my shitty past. I’m sure I can forgive yours.”
Biting into my lip, I shrug. “It’s easy to forgive because I believe that people change. We grow and become better people because of the influences around us.”
“You’re right, and for me, it’s you.”
I grin widely as I let out the deep breath I took. He makes me breathless. While I say that this isn’t a Disney movie, I feel like it is. I feel so wrapped up in him. I want to burst out in song, saying how much I really like him and how I want to believe that there will be a day that I’ll be at home, making up killer dances while he’s out scoring goals. I want to believe it, but I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. This is all so magical, so perfect, but what’s going to happen when he decides I’m not good enough for him? When he hears my past will I be able to pick up the pieces while I watch him walk away?
It scares me, it does, but I can’t help but want to believe his words.
“So I know you’re big into music, right?”
I smile, ignoring my thoughts and focusing solely on him, which is really easy. “I am.”
“Are you one of those people who love everything?”
I nod with a grin growing on my face. “I am – total music whore. I can listen to anything and enjoy the hell out of it.”
“What’s your all-time favorite, though?”
I think for a minute as one of his hands leaves my back and comes up to trace along my jaw. “I’m a huge Justin Timberlake fan, so anything by him, but I also love old stuff. Like classic Etta James, it’s so smooth and inspiring. Beatles, anything really,” I say then start laughing. “I’m really easy to please.”
With a wink he says, “I know you are.”
My face flushes as I push him away, but he brings me back toward him, lacing our fingers together. “You?”