Page 33 of Almost Always

“Show me.”

With a heavy sigh, he set his bowl down and turned so that his right arm was in full view. Her breath caught at the intricate detail.How did I not see this when he was cooking?His entire upper arm was covered in daisies, some with stems and leaves, others with petals fluttering away. There must have been close to a hundred. She swallowed the question as her eyes snagged on the three letters permanently added to his skin—DEH.Daisy Elizabeth Heroux.

“My god,” she whispered and he leaned back, reaching for his food. She wanted to ask him how long he had them and why. The thought that he might have felt the same way about her in New York was laughable, but hehadkissed her back that night. He had wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him.

“I got them soon after we lost touch.”

She stared, still trying to process his admission. She’d done the same by including his favorite flowers in her sleeve, but her decision was because he was her first love. The possibility that he held her that close to him all this time made her heart race.

Even though she had a million questions about the tattoos, she said, “What was your life like after I left?”

He glanced at her and she nodded, encouraging him to answer. No matter what he said or how much it might hurt her, she wanted to know.

“Lonely the first few years. Those phone calls kept me going, if I’m being honest. But classes, work andlifejust took over.”

“You were happy, right?”

“Eventually. I loved working with my dad, visiting public properties to turn into gardens and community centers to refresh them. But I felt like there was something missing. So I decided to become a firefighter.”

“I bet Nonna was not pleased.”

He chuckled. “She tried to change my mind multiple times. Eventually, she did her best to be supportive.”

“Why firefighting, Raff?”

“Why not?” At her unimpressed glare, he snorted and continued. “At first I wanted to give back in some way. Then it became a way to feel something, you know? After Cal’s mom left, it helped numb the pain. I had no regrets about being a single dad, but I was empty and a little lost.” His face softened as he said, “My first fire after everything, I walked out covered in soot and all I could smell was ash, but my heart was racing and…it was a rush.”

She nodded, like she understood it. But she didn’t. Despite how cautious and anxious she was, she wasn’t risk-averse. She just thought about everything a lot before taking the leap. Running into a burning building was a risk she couldn’t fathom. However, the passion in his voice told her that he hadn’t gone into this blindly either.

“The whole time you were at the fire, the only rush I got was from worrying about you. Which, I know, I don’t need to do. You’ll be careful.”

“I think it’s normal to feel that way for someone on the outside. In the beginning, Dad would call me multiple times and if he couldn’t reach my phone, he’d call the firehouse. It took us a while, but he finally trusted me to call when I was back.”

“So what you’re saying is that I need to calm the fuck down?”

He laughed loudly and her face split into a grin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard his laugh, but her body recalled the way it used to make her feel.

He glanced at her, nodding as he said, “I promise I’ll text or call the first chance I get.”

“Okay.” She chewed on her bottom lip and stretched her legs out, flexing her toes.

“What about you, Daze? What was life in Greenville like?”

The question had her muscles tightening briefly. How would he react knowing that she continued to hate her body after they moved? It had taken her years of therapy and staring into a mirror to get comfortable in her own skin. The struggles didn’t go away, but she didn’t have too many of those days anymore.

“It was an adjustment, especially since there wasn’t a tall boy with a permanent scowl living next door,” she said, wanting to lighten the mood, and heard him scoff. “But it was okay. I got to meet a lot of my dad’s family and worked at my aunt’s flower shop.”

“The one who inspired you to open your own shop?”

“Yeah. But so did you, if I’m being honest.”

“Me?” He sounded confused and she chuckled.

“I was maybe eleven and struggling with, you know, everything. You’d come bounding down the stairs every morning with a different flower in your hand. Something you picked up at the shop during your shift. At first, I didn’t know flowers had been in your life because of Nonna, but it made me feel special. On our walks to school, you’d tell me everything you’d learned about it.”

“Idid that?”

She nodded. “I’d press the flowers into the back of my journal and make notes of what you’d taught me.”

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