“There she is.” Gretchen hugged her friend and they laughed.
I tugged on Roxy’s hand. “I need her,” I said to the group without waiting for a response. I pulled her to a more silent alcove between two food trucks.
“Let’s play again.” I didn’t have to clarify.
She looked away. I tugged her hands closer and bent until she held my gaze.
“I’ve been too scared to understand the gift that your trust was,” I said.
“True,” she said immediately.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
She looked up and to the side as her eyes shone in the setting sun. “True.”
“I love you.”
“True.” She sniffed. “It’s two truths and a lie.”
“No. No more lies.” I brought her closer, gripping her elbows. “I want to grow old with you.”
“True,” she said.
“No matter what happens. No matter what life throws at us, I will always understand that you don’t need me. That you could walk away at any time.”
She frowned but I went on.
“You could. You are a whole person as you are, Roxy. I don’t want to ever complete you. I want to complement you. I want to be there when you need me. I want to go away when you need space and return when you’re ready for a hug.”
Her chin wobbled.
“It’s okay to want a person to lean on. You would be fine on your own but some days you’ll be tired. Some days you won’t believe in yourself and I’ll be there for you. I’ll be your cheer section and you masseur and … your sex slave …” I wiggled my eyebrows and she rolled her eyes.
She quickly wiped away a tear that leaked out. My own eyes stung with emotion.
“The good news,” I said moving my arms higher and bringing her closer. “Is that there is no rush. Just like a tattoo, you’re on my soul forever. The good times or bad, you’re a piece of me and we have nothing but time. My life goal is to grow very, very old with you. Until you have to change my diapers.”
“Lovely.” She smiled.
I pulled out my metaphorical trump card.
“I have something else to show you.” My hand went to the button of the birth-control pants.
“Sanders! Nothing in there can help right now,” she said with a laugh.
I winked. I turned around and shook my booty just a little.
She groaned. I watched her over my shoulder as I lowered my pants just a little and lifted my shirt.
“Oh my God. Sanders! Is that my name?”
“It is.”
Her soft finger brushed over the area my tattoo was, not the newly inked letters, but the gothic butterfly I got when I was eighteen.
“The lines are amazing and detailed. The skull pattern in the wings is so delicate you almost don’t see it at first. Amazing,” she whispered. Her hot breath on my skin made me shudder.
I quickly zipped up my pants and turned around. There was no room for growth in these pants. I brought my focus back to Roxy’s incredulous face.
