38. Permanent Words
38
Permanent Words
Rockwell
I ’m waiting for the bomb to drop from Clay’s dad showing up at the beach—uninvited. He usually sends Clay into an immediate panic attack, but as I stare at him, I realize he looks better than ever. Lighter. Happier. Yet, I feel the need to ask, just to make sure, “How are you feeling, Garot?o ?”
1 ?? Clay breathes a sigh of relief. “I’ve wanted to tell that man that he doesn’t have power over me anymore for longer than you could imagine. So to answer your question… yeah, I feel great.” He smiles softly as he looks at me, the twinkle of the lights I set up reflect off his brown eyes. I watch as his gaze rakes up and down my body. “But let’s not talk about him. I want all my focus on you, Rockwell Campos.”
I try my hardest to hide the blush I know is creeping up my neck. “I have one more surprise for you first . ” I stride over to the duffle I used to carry everything in here earlier today and pull out a prostate massager and a bottle of lube. I knew we would need the lube, but I’m hoping he’s open to using the toy.
“Is that what I think it is, Baby?” The smirk on his lips, and the way his pupils blow wide, tells me he’s more than okay with it. He bites his lips and stares at the objects in my hand a moment before finally asking, “Can you put it in me? I need to be stretched before you take me.”
“Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don—” He cuts me off.
He spins me around, plastering my back to the the blue wall so hard I’m surprised the surfboards stored up there don’t come tumbling down on us. “You brought me here, Baby. So I intend on making the most of it.” Clay’s voice suddenly takes on that gravely tone that makes every hair on my body stand on end. Lowering his face to mine he adds, “That includes letting you fill me any way you see fit. ”
I whimper at the thought of getting to claim him again. He backs away from me slowly, and I follow him all the way to the fluffy blanket I have laid out for us. I throw the toy and lube down on the blanket and grab Clay’s arms. “Raise your arms for me. I need to see you.”
Doing as I say, he raises his arms, and I feverishly pull his shirt over his head. Once it’s gone, I drop to my knees so I can get his shorts off. I run my hands down his stomach into his waistband, pulling his black athletic shorts down. I let out a whistle. “Scandalous, Clayton… No underwear.” I mock a couple of tsks while dragging my eyes back up to his.
He smiles down at me, and I swear those damn dimples make my breath catch in my chest. I run my hands down his muscular thighs but stop in my tracks when I feel a piece of plastic wrapped around his upper thigh. My fingers graze over what I now realize is second skin, and I huff a laugh. Only he would get a fresh tattoo in the middle of tournament week. I’m just about to lecture him when I realize what I’m looking at. Permanently inked into his skin is the phrase, “ O amor n?o tem lei. ” My voice wobbles as I read it out loud.
When my eyes find his, he rubs his hand over my head, adoration lining his features, before translating the phrase I know all to well. “Love has no law, Baby.”
“How di—Why did—When did you get this?”
“Your mom said it to me that day she was helping me bake in the kitchen while you were outside with Joe. I know that’s when she knew about us, even though she never said it. Love doesn’t have laws in your family’s eyes. Without so much as batting an eye, they welcomed me with open arms and showed me what a family… what love is supposed to look like. I wanted to carry that lesson with me.” I lean into his touch as his fingers thread through my curls. “Love doesn’t have any rules. It’s not dependent upon what the other person can give you in return. It doesn’t matter who you are, where you’re from, how you grew up, or who you thought you were meant to be. None of it matters. The only thing that matters is knowing in your heart that someone is meant to be in your life. That they’re meant to change you’re life for the better. That is love. Love has no laws. And that is what I feel for you.”
I run my fingers over the beautiful words again. Suddenly, the familiar script registers in my brain. “Clay, is this my momma’s writing?” The tears lining my eyes are on the verge of falling even before he answers. I already know the answer; she has always had the most beautiful handwriting.
“It is.” The first tear falls but doesn’t make it far before Clay brushes it away with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t cry. I didn’t do this to make you cry, Baby. I didn’t want to make you cry.”
I smile when a thought pops into my head. She only ever says that phrase in Portuguese. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say that in English. Not once. “Did she tell you what it meant?”
He’s sporting a wicked grin. “Nope.” He’s sure to pop the P in a dramatic fashion. “I knew what she said. Just like I knew you admitted you were falling in love with me in the shower during my panic attack or when you started calling me Big Boy from the very beginning.”
I pull my eyebrows together, truly confused. “What the hell? Did you translate everything after I said it?”
“No, Baby,” he laughs. “I know Portuguese.” My mouth drops open. To say I’m shocked is an understatement. However, now that I think back to when he was at my house, we all spoke Portuguese a lot, and never did he ask me to translate anything. I was so caught up in conversation I didn’t even think to make sure he could understand what we were saying. Goes to show how often I’ve brought someone to my home. But lo and behold, this shithead knew what we were saying this whole time.
“You forget, Baby. I went to a prestigious private school. I learned how to speak three languages by the time I was sixteen. Portuguese happens to be one of them. I’m more than just good looks you know?”
I wrap my hands around the back of his thighs. It’s not lost on me the dichotomy of the position that we’re in. As Clay lays his soul bare, giving me a gift I couldn’t have dreamt of in my wildest dreams, I’m the one kneeling at his feet. Finally ready and willing to give this man all of the love and happiness he deserves but has never gotten. And as the overwhelming feeling of our unrequited love blooms in my chest, I lean in, kiss his new tattoo, and ask, “Can we have some fun now?”
1. THE WITHDRAWLS - Kae