Chapter 7 Sara
SARA
Halle watches me sit down at my station in the salon and get ready for my first appointment. I try not to make eye contact, afraid that one glance will give everything away.
“So,” she says finally, “when are you seeing him again?”
The question is unexpected. I know I’m going to see Romeo again, every day for the rest of my life if he meant what he said, but we have no specific plans. I kissed him goodbye when he left to meet Elio earlier, and he promised that he would be back.
I make the mistake of meeting her gaze and her eyes widen. “Oh. My. God. You fucked him, didn’t you?”
“Shh, keep your voice down.”
Mary, our boss, pokes her head around the corner from the office out the back, skims my face and narrows her eyes, her lash extensions fanning her cheeks. She smiles. “I knew it. I knew he was going to be the one.”
I’m grinning too. There’s no way either of them could’ve known that Romeo would crash into my life like a wrecking ball and turn it upside down, but they’re smiling, which means they’re both happy for me, which means that his job means nothing to them.
Not that I need to justify it to myself or to anyone else.
Romeo is a whole lot more than just his job.
But it makes me feel warm inside, nonetheless, knowing that my friends want this for me too.
“What did you do last night?” Mary asks.
“We went swimming. In the river.”
“And after that?” Mary arches an immaculate eyebrow.
My cheeks grow hot. “We went back to his.”
Halle squeals. “We want all the details.”
“No. Na-hah. Absolutely not.”
She slants her eyes wickedly, and I know what’s coming even before she asks, “Is he as big in that department as he is everywhere else?” She points to her crotch with one glossy nude acrylic.
“I’m not talking about it.”
I line up nail polishes on my worktop, cutting the conversation short. Romeo would never show his face in here again if he thought that I’d told them everything.
But Halle is still twitching with curiosity. “You’ve been at it all night, haven’t you?”
My cheeks grow even hotter.
“Does he have a brother?” Halle isn’t giving up. “Please tell me that he has a brother. A single brother. You can tell him that I like ice cream, no dairy intolerance here.”
“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Mary interjects, saving me from the painful interrogation. “You don’t have to tell us anything, Sara, but I’m happy for you.” She means it. “Are you seeing him again tonight?”
“Yes.” My stomach lurches, and my heart tumbles with it.
I told Romeo that I would beg God to bring him home to me every day, but what if God isn’t listening?
What if saving Romeo is out of his remit because of his involvement with the Rossis?
It was easy to say with conviction when we were both naked in his bed with his arms around me, but in the cold light of day, I’m suddenly gripped by fear.
“Wow, he’s keen. And rightly so. You’re a catch, Sara, and he knows it.” Mary disappears out the back.
“I’m happy for you,” Halle whispers from her own station. “Jealous but happy.”
But the glow inside me is starting to fade.
I don’t know where Romeo is today. I don’t know when he expects to be back—when he left this morning, next-date details felt so trivial that we didn’t bother with them.
We’re both in this for the long haul. No second-guessing, no backing out now.
But I realize that we haven’t even exchanged cell numbers because Romeo knows where to find me.
Only, I don’t know where to find him when he isn’t home.
The day drags. My clients drone on about their jobs, their boyfriends, their kids, all negative stuff that I seem to be hearing for the first time, like being slapped with a wet towel.
At one point, I trim a client’s cuticle a little too close and make her pinkie finger bleed, and she yelps, causing Mary to take over.
I go out the back and check my phone in case Romeo somehow got my cell number from someone I know.
Disappointment crushes my chest. No messages.
Maybe he doesn’t feel the need to communicate all day via text because what we have transcends normal relationships.
Maybe he’s still busy with whatever task he had to carry out for Elio. Maybe he’s hurt…
No. I suck in a deep breath, make coffee, and lean against the counter, hands shaking around the cup. He isn’t hurt. Sure, this has all happened so fast, but I would know if something bad had happened to him, I would feel it in my chest.
I’m certain of it.
Still, my hands tremble when I’m with my next client, my heart skips a beat each time the door opens, and my shoulders drop with disappointment when it isn’t Romeo.
An hour before closing, Romeo walks in with another bunch of daisies, intact this time, and his face lights up when his eyes settle on me.
Every part of me tingles with anticipation, relief, desire, and I have to stop myself from running across the salon and leaping into his arms like a scene from a Hallmark movie where the wanderer makes it home in time for Christmas.
It’s been hours, I tell myself, not years. I was worrying for no reason. Romeo promised to come back and here he is.
“I’m early,” he says to Mary. “I’ll just give these to Sara and then I’ll come back later.”
“Take her now.” Mary winks at me. “Her head has been in the clouds all day. But let her get some sleep tonight. Please.”
Romeo’s face flushes, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish bobbing for food.
I quickly grab my purse and my phone, link my arm with his, and take him outside before my boss can embarrass him further. I don’t want him to be afraid of her. I want him to know that he can find me here whenever he needs me, even if it gets me into trouble.
“What did I do wrong?” He’s still clutching the daisies, and I gently unfurl his fingers from around the stems. “Are you alright, Sara?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Romeo.”
He studies me intently, and his expression crumples. “I should’ve called.”
“It’s fine.” It comes out before I can stop it; everyone’s go-to response. “You don’t have my number.”
“I don’t like texting.” He splays his fingers. “My fingers are too big for the buttons. But I’ll make an exception for you.”
I stand on tiptoes, cup his face with my free hand, and kiss him on the lips. I hear Halle’s squeal of excitement from inside the salon and can’t help smiling at her through the window.
He holds my hand, and we walk without discussing where we’re going.
It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m with Romeo, he could take me to the South Pole, and I wouldn’t question it because I know that I’d have him to keep me warm.
The day’s fears have evaporated. They’ll probably reappear again tomorrow, but, in time, I’ll learn to deal with it.
“I got a tattoo,” he says before we reach the end of the block. “For you.”
I glance sideways at him. His expression is serious but there’s a gleam in his eyes. “For me?”
“I’ll show you later.”
“Can you show me now?” Heat rushes to my face when I realize that there aren’t many parts of his body left un-inked. “I mean… if you can.”
Romeo stops walking and pulls me into a narrow alleyway between buildings.
Without warning, he lifts the hem of his T-shirt to reveal a fresh tattoo directly above his heart.
It’s a tiny perfect daisy nestled amongst the Celtic swirls, with our initials in the center, S and R entwined, the skin around it pink and raw.
“Oh…” I swallow a gigantic lump of emotion. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. Hallmark could learn a lot from this guy who believed he was too big and clumsy to even ask me out until a couple of days ago.
“Is it too much?” There’s panic in his voice again.
“No, Romeo, it’s perfect.”
He takes my hand and places it over the tattoo. “I wanted you to know that my heart is yours.”
I blink back tears.
Romeo folds me into his arms, and I breathe in the smell of his shampoo and shower gel. “I know, Sara. I know you feel the same way.”
“I want to get a tattoo.”
His lips quirk into a tentative smile. “You don’t have any tattoos.”
“I never knew what I wanted before, but I do now.”
“Sara, you don’t have to do this. Tattoos are forever.”
“Which is exactly why I want to do it.” It was a whim when I first blurted it out, but now I’m determined to see it through. Before I change my mind. “Can I get it done now?”
He studies me for several beats as if debating whether he should talk me out of it or not. Then, “Come. He’ll still be there.”
Inside the tattoo parlor is exactly how I imagined it would be.
The foyer walls are filled with images of elaborate designs inked onto various parts of people’s bodies.
Ian has dark hair pulled into a low man-bun, spears piercing his nostrils, black gems studding his cheeks, and ink on every bit of exposed skin apart from his face.
But he puts me at ease when he doesn’t question my design.
Instead, he takes me through to the sterile room where he’ll ink a picture onto my body and gestures for me to lie down on the couch while he gets ready.
Romeo holds my hand. I would be terrified if he wasn’t here, but his presence keeps me calm.
Reminds me why I’m doing the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done in my life.
Ian asks me to remove my hoodie and T-shirt, then he slides my bra strap over my left shoulder. A week ago, I would never have let a stranger see my naked breast, but Romeo is holding my hand, protective, his pants bulging when he sees my exposed nipple.
“Stop me if it feels like too much.” Ian rolls his seat closer to the raised bed and shows me the needle. “You’ll feel it prickle, but it won’t hurt.”
“I’ve got you,” Romeo whispers in my ear.
I watch the needle touch my skin and feel heat traveling through my body. When I walk out of here, I’ll be a different person than I was when I came in. I’ll have our initials printed above my heart for the rest of my life, and everyone will know how I feel about Romeo.
Am I crazy? Probably.
Will I regret it tomorrow when I look in the mirror? Absolutely fucking not.
I barely even register Ian’s gloved hand on my breast. I watch the image taking shape, the colors being filled in like a child’s drawing, the initials woven together as if this is where they always belonged.
And when Ian shows me the finished tattoo in a hand-mirror I know that I couldn’t have chosen any other design.
It’s a lifebuoy ring, a delicate rope wound around it, and our combined initials in the center. Because Romeo will always be there to keep me afloat.
We barely make it through the front door to Romeo’s basement apartment.
He presses me up against the wall in the hallway, raises my arms above my head, and removes my hoodie and T-shirt.
His lips crush mine as he unclasps my bra behind my back.
My nipples are already hard. The tattoo stings a little, but I’m too excited to care.
I got a tattoo.
I have an R for Romeo close to my heart.
And I want the whole world to know about it.
“You did this for me.” Romeo’s lips travel down my neck, over my collarbone, and caress the tattoo, feather-light.
“You did too.” I place my palm gently over the daisy on his chest.
“I wanted you to know that I’m always coming back, Sara.” His voice is husky.
“You know what this means?”
“What?” His lips are back on mine.
“It means that you get to show me how much you love me. Every. Single. Day.”
Romeo grips my wrists above my head with one hand and kisses me hard, his tongue filling my mouth. “Like this?”
“Maybe a bit lower.” I’m breathless already.
He kneels in front of me and sticks his tongue in my belly button. “Low enough?”
My heart is racing. “Lower.”
Romeo drags my sweatpants and panties down over my hips. My legs tremble as I step out of them. Gripping my thighs, he buries his face between my legs, and nothing else exists but his tongue inside me, and his initial inked onto my chest above my heart.