Out of Nowhere(59)

“Uh, fine,” I’d said, hoping he’d cut to the chase, but he cleared his throat. “What did you need?” I’d asked, eye on the clock. It was after five and I wanted to get out of there in the next hour.

“Damn, Colin, I don’t need anything. I just wanted to say hey. Christ.”

What the fuck did that mean? Daniel never called me to say hello. “Well,” I said, hesitantly, “hey, then.” I paused but he didn’t say anything. “I’m gonna get back to work,” I said, my mind already back on the cars.

“Oh, yeah,” Daniel said, his voice gone poisonous. I’d never heard him sound like that before. “Got to go get some hearts and flowers tattooed to match your manly butterfly?”

My heart had felt like it was being squeezed in my chest. What the fuck? How in the hell had he…? I realized Ginger must have told him.

There was nothing to say. I was right back there. That night years ago. So drunk I didn’t even remember leaving the party. Barely remembered staggering into the tattoo parlor, consumed by thoughts of what things might be like if my mom were still alive and some vague notion that the pain of the needle of was, at least, a pain I could choose.

My heart was beating fast—too fast—and my mouth was dry, but I had to silence Daniel’s smug superiority.

“Fuck you, you little bitch,” I spat out, and I smashed the phone into the wall.

Rafe reaches out to me, but I pull away from him and get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist.

“Nothing. I just don’t like it,” I say.

“Okay,” Rafe says, clearly not buying it. “Did you like it when you got it?”

“I don’t remember, man. I was wasted.” Rafe’s frown deepens and I sigh. “It was for my mom, kind of. It was after high school and I was just having a bad time and—” I shake my head, not wanting to talk about that. “Honestly, I don’t remember asking for the butterfly. I must have, but….” I shrug.

The next morning when I saw it in the mirror, bleary and hungover, I was so confused by what I saw that it took a moment for the lines to coalesce into something recognizable. A fucking butterfly. Something delicate and vulnerable and… gay. It was like I’d been branded with an emblem of everything I wanted to hide. And now Daniel knows about it.

Rafe starts to say something but stops himself at whatever he sees in my face and nods, going back to toweling his hair dry. I’m just relieved he’s not going to push it. I go into the bedroom, throw on sweatpants, and fiddle with the window, trying to get some air.

“Colin.” I startle at Rafe’s voice and turn around. He slides his hands underneath my sweatpants and over my ass. He squeezes and I shudder against him. “Mmm. Have I told you what a gorgeous ass you have?”

My face heats up in an instant. Every time Rafe talks to me like this, it turns me on faster than anything. And I’m happy to be distracted.

Rafe pulls me toward him and scoots back on the bed to make room for me between his legs. His mouth is hot and I can’t get enough of the way he tastes. When his arms come around me, I let myself relax on top of him, just wanting more contact. Rafe runs a hand down my back as we kiss, but he doesn’t stop; he trails his fingers down to the top of my ass and into the crease there. I startle.

“Is this okay?” Rafe asks, looking at me seriously. He stops moving until I nod. I’m not sure if it’s okay. Rafe just looks at me. I start to kiss his neck because it’s awkward.

“Wait a second, okay?” he says.

Slow as honey, Rafe pulls my cheeks apart, squeezing in a way that makes my breath come short. Rafe’s eyes go hot and his eyelids lower to half-mast.

“Good?”

I nod, but my breathing starts to come too fast and I feel too hot. Things I don’t want to think about crowd the edges of my thoughts, and I shake my head to banish them.

He slides a finger down and runs it lightly over my hole, and I jerk against him. At first, I can’t tell if I’m turned on or freaked out. Both. Definitely both. Rafe doesn’t move, just looks at me steadily.

“Bad?” Rafe asks, his voice neutral.

I shake my head, confused. “No, I—” I duck my head to his shoulder, but after a minute, he lifts my chin to look at him again.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t—uh—I don’t have much basis for comparison,” I mutter.

“Okay.” Rafe kisses me and his voice is soft. “You don’t have much. But you do have some?”

And there it is. What I’ve been avoiding thinking about. Almost like talk of my damn tattoo conjured it.