Page 113 of Beauty
But my brain glitches while I search for a response.
“Mean what?” I mean everything I say, but I want to be clear with her right now.
She takes me in from head to toe. “The butterfly. The reason you have the tattoo.”
I step a little closer, keeping the door propped open with one foot. “I probably would have phrased my explanation a little differently if Ollie hadn’t been there, but yes, I meant every word.”
With her head tipped back, and her green eyes so focused, it feels like she’s searching my soul. “How would you have phrased it?”
“I would have told you that I inked the butterfly on my skin so that every time I looked in the mirror, I’d remember the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. A striking, charming person I was lucky enough to share two perfect days with. A woman I didn’t want to cage, which meant I had to let her go. I didn’t tell you about Ollie then because you had so many big things coming for you. But I never,not for one single day, forgot you. I wanted you close. So I got this tattoo to keep you with me.”
I press my hand to my chest, over the spot where she’s memorialized.
“I got it so I’d remember that I’m not broken. That I know love because of you.”
Her eyes sparkle like turquoise waters late in the evening, her hand drifting out in front of her. She flexes it into a fist like she’s both eager to touch me and a little afraid. She stares at my chest, at the spot she’s almost touching, then lifts her eyes to mine. “Can I see it?”
With my eyes on hers, I drag my shirt up over my head and then toss it inside the room. We’re still in the doorway, my foot holding it open just a smidge.
Sienna steps forward, and her fingers brush my skin with the barest of touches. She pulls back a fraction, but then she’s pressing her fingers to the tattoo in earnest. I hiss as a jolt of electricity shocks my heart.
Slowly, she traces the outline of the butterfly inked over my heart with her nails. It’s the only tattoo on my chest. I have others on my back and arms, but this spot is reserved for her and her alone. My heart. My butterfly. And hopefully, one day, my girl.
When her eyes meet mine again, they’re glassy, and as she gives me the softest of smiles, her lips tremble. “Thank you.”
Between one breath and the next, she’s gone, dashing down the hall, like if she stays any longer, she knows she’ll latch on to me and never let go.
All week, during our downtime, Sienna joins us on our adventures.
In Chicago, we eat deep-dish pizza and visit the Willis Tower, the tallest building in the city. There are little glass enclosures at the top, and as we step out onto the glass floor more than one hundred levels up, Sienna and Ollie discover I have a fear of heights. The two of them gang up on me, bouncing and snapping photos while I press my hands to the glass and beg the universe not to send us all tumbling fourteen hundred feet to our deaths so soon after bringing Sienna back to me.
In Nashville, we listen to honky-tonk and take Ollie out for biscuits and gravy with fried chicken for breakfast. He’s a huge fan. Then we hit up the zoo that afternoon.
During all our adventures, we talk about hockey. At breakfast, I use salt and pepper shakers to demonstrate plays. At lunch, I use a pizza crust hockey stick and a chunk of sausage to represent the puck.
After Ollie goes to bed, we watch film. While I prepare for upcoming games, I explain the plays, the terminology, and the general culture.
We don’t touch. We definitely don’t kiss. And I try to keep the flirting to a minimum. She, on the other hand, slips up pretty regularly, and fuck if I don’t love every second of it.
I have to drop my little guy off with Jen before our game in Minnesota, so I leave Sienna with the rest of the team and hope that all the progress we made wasn’t for nothing.
She has to return to Boston the day I’m headed to Minnesota, so we miss each other completely. When she texts to tell me, disappointment is a heavy weight in my gut. After spending so much time together, I crave her more than I ever did.
When my phone lights up with a text from her two days later, I scramble for it, acting like a damn teenager, my heart thumping in my chest.
Sienna: I have to know, how did the hug go?
I laugh out loud and all my worries fade away.
Me: Apparently, there’s a whole story that goes along with it, so he won’t share until I see him in person.
Sienna: Oh my god, I love that kid. He’s hysterical.
Pride and affection swell within me. Ollieisgreat. And knowing Sienna recognizes that only makes me more desperate to see her, to push this thing along.
Me: What are you doing?
Sienna: Like currently?
