Chapter 8
I’d do anything to be your everything.
—Drew … or Fable?
Fable
I think I have finally stepped into that fairy tale I always wanted to live in, ever since I was a little girl. I’m living it, right at this very moment, getting dressed and ready for a lazy Sunday morning with Drew.
He gently wakes me up by kissing me all over my face.
Soft little kisses that make me giggle since his lips tickle my skin.
When he slips his hands between us and starts tickling my stomach I laugh harder, our legs tangling up together, our naked bodies brushing against each other.
Which in turn leads to us having slow, delicious morning sex.
But before the slow, delicious morning sex, I searched his body as promised.
Mapping it with my lips and my tongue and my hands and my fingers.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered a tattoo on his rib cage, written in elegant script.
It’s a paragraph, more like a string of words in a poem.
I trace each word with my finger, trying to decipher their meaning.
For a passion that’s
Able to shine like ours
Blessed are we to
Love
Each other
I’m in shock that clean-cut All-American Boy Drew Callahan has a tattoo. And that he got it after we were together.
“What does it mean?” I ask him, slowing skimming the words, each individual letter, with my index finger.
He seems surprised by my question. “Read it again,” he says quietly. “Slowly.”
I do so, realizing that the first letter of every sentence spells my name.
Reminding me of the marshmallow note he left for me.
I’m shocked. Overwhelmed. Touched so deeply, tears form in my eyes, and he kisses them away as they fall onto my cheeks.
“I wrote those words for you,” he murmurs against my mouth before he kisses my lips. “You’ve turned me into a poet, Fable.”
God, he’s so sweetly romantic I want to lose myself in him forever.
We take a shower together and that eventually leads to more delicious sex, leaving me so spent afterward, my legs are like wobbly noodles when we finally climb out of the tub. He towel dries me, his fingers sliding between my still-wet legs, and he brings me to another earth-shattering orgasm.
Together, we’re absolutely ridiculous. We can’t keep our hands off of each other. And I love it.
I love him.
I put back on my shorts from last night but it’s too cold to wear the stupid lacy top, so Drew lets me borrow an old sweatshirt.
I pull it on, laughing when it stops just above my knees.
I know I look ridiculous but he says I look cute, and then he sweeps me up into his arms and kisses me. Again. Thoroughly.
So thoroughly I finally have to smack his chest and tell him I need to get home so I can check on my brother before we get carried away again.
The disappointment on his face is clear, but he respects my wishes and we take off to my crappy apartment.
The closer we get, the more nervous I become.
What if my mom is home? No way do I want her to meet Drew.
Not yet, anyway, because if this is going to continue between us, then eventually they’ll have to meet.
It’s just a reality I’m not ready to face.
My mom is so incredibly embarrassing, with her drunken, trashy ways, how she flat-out doesn’t care about anything or anyone but herself. Drew thinks his family’s all fucked up—well, they are, let’s not fake ourselves out here—but my mom is no prize either.
What’s scary is that I’m constantly afraid I could turn into her. It would be so easy. We’re a lot alike, as much as I hate to admit it.
When we pull into my apartment complex parking lot, I notice my mom’s car isn’t there, thank goodness.
The relief that floods me is palpable and I immediately feel lighter.
Drew comes with me to my apartment, even though I tell him he can go ahead and leave since I have to work this afternoon.
But he insists on walking me to my door like a gentleman.
I think he’s afraid to let me go, truthfully. And I feel the same way.
Pulling my key ring out of my purse, I go to unlock the door, when it swings open, startling me so much I drop my keys. Owen is standing there, clad in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, his hair an absolute mess. He throws himself at me, his arms so tight around my middle, I can hardly breathe.
“Where have you been?” he asks, giving me a shake when he withdraws from me. “I’ve been worried sick!”
“I thought you were at your friend’s house.” His outburst surprises me. Talk about a role reversal. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him so worked up.
“I’ve been home alone all night. Mom’s over at Larry’s house. She thought you were coming home. So did I. I tried to text you and call you but you never answered.”
Crap. “My phone must’ve died.” I bend to grab my keys. The excuse sounds weak, but it’s the truth.
Owen glances over my shoulder, his gaze alighting on Drew. “Who the hell is this?”
Jeez, why does he sound so hostile? The look he’s sending Drew could kill, it’s so intense.
“Um …” I don’t know how to answer. This is awkward. I didn’t expect my brother to actually greet us.
“Wait a minute.” Owen steps around me so he can stand directly in front of Drew, who towers over him. “You’re Drew Callahan, aren’t you?”
Oh, shit. I didn’t expect my brother to recognize him, but Drew is one of the star players on the college team. They have some minor celebrity status here in town.
“I am.” Drew’s smile is easygoing and full of warmth. “You must be Owen.”
“Yep. And you’re the asshole who broke my sister’s heart.” Without warning, Owen rears back his arm and punches Drew right in the chin.
And sends him sprawling to the ground.
“Oh my God!” I grab at Drew’s shoulders but he’s already picking himself back up, his expression full of disbelief. Thank God, he doesn’t appear angry. More like stunned.
I’m stunned, too.
“What the hell was that for?” I ask Owen, who’s rubbing his knuckles as if they hurt.
Little shit. They probably do. He deserves the pain for pulling a stunt like that.
“He’s the reason you’ve been so miserable these last few months. I can’t freaking believe it. You went out with Drew Callahan?” Owen points a finger at Drew. “When the hell did this happen?”
“Watch your language!” It’s the only thing I can think of to say. I don’t know how to answer him. I certainly don’t want to confess exactly how Drew and I came together in the first place. It sounds so sleazy.
“If you snuck around to see him, I don’t know why. He’s a big deal, Fable. Huge.” Owen shakes his head. “I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together, what with his initials on your foot.”
“What does he mean, my initials on your foot?” Drew’s gaze drops to my feet. I’m wearing my black heels from last night, and the tattoo is obvious in the daylight. Hell, it was obvious last night and earlier this morning, but I don’t think he was paying much attention to me below my thighs.
The simple little outline of a heart sits high on the top of my left foot, the letters D and C stacked on top of each other in the middle.
My homage to Drew and the week we spent together.
The love I have for him. I got the tattoo in a fit of irrationality.
I wanted to prove to him that I loved him enough to have him permanently etched into my skin.
And he never showed back up. A foolish wish for my foolish heart, I guess.
This was so not the way I wanted him to find out about the tattoo. Besides, compared to the beautiful poem he wrote for me, my tattoo seems sort of trite. Meaningless.
“She got it right after Thanksgiving,” Owen explains, glaring daggers at Drew.
“She wouldn’t explain what the DC stood for, either.
Claimed it was for her favorite city, but I knew she was full of absolute shit.
I mean, come on. She’s never even left California.
Sorry, Fabes,” he adds when he notices I’m ready to chew him out for the curse.
“You got a tattoo. With my initials on your foot.” Drew shakes his head, his expression incredulous. “Why didn’t you tell me? Show me?”
I shrug, not willing to have this conversation in front of my brother. “It’s silly.”
“It’s definitely not silly.” He rushes toward me and takes my hands, his gaze dropping to my feet. I notice his jaw is red, it looks a little swollen, and I can’t believe my brother hit him so hard. The element of surprise had definitely been in Owen’s favor. “I love it.”
“Your tattoo has so much more meaning,” I whisper as he draws me into his arms right in front of my brother. I can feel Owen’s glare boring into our backs, but I ignore it. “You wrote a poem for me, Drew.”
“And you put my initials forever on your foot, Fable. I think we’re both on the same wavelength here or something.”
I hug him close and laugh, because I don’t know how else to react. Owen clears his throat, reminding me he’s why I’m here in the first place, and I pull away from Drew, offering him a reassuring smile. “Maybe we should talk later tonight? After I get off work?”
“Yeah.” Drew smiles, his blue eyes glowing. “That sounds good. Want me to pick you up?”
“Yes, that sounds perfect.” He leans in and kisses me again as if he can’t help it. “I’m off at eight.”
“You have a ride to work?”
“I can figure something out.” I smile and he walks away, glancing at me over his shoulder one last time before he heads down the stairs and toward his truck.
“What in the hell was that?” Owen asks when I drag him into our apartment and shut the door.
“What are you talking about?” I stick my hands in the front pocket of the sweatshirt and breathe deep, inhaling Drew’s scent. God, he smells good. I might never want to give this sweatshirt back. Might never want to wash it, either.
Gross but true.
“You’re seeing Drew Callahan? He’s your boyfriend?” Owen’s eyes are wide. “This is crazy shit, Fabes. He’s a total superstar. Like, a college legend. And you’re with him?”