“It is a cool thing.” My fingers glided against the trophies on his shelf, too. “You really were a great player, huh?”
“Still am,” he argued. “You’ll have to come and watch the guys and me play some day. I can even teach you to do a layup.”
I giggled. “Trust me, I’m better off on the sidelines.” I picked up a photograph on his desk and studied it. “Is this your brother and father?” I asked, staring at the two people in the photograph.
“Yeah. That’s them.”
“Wow... They are so handsome.” I smiled as I stared at the two. “You have their eyes.”
Ash didn’t reply. I didn’t know if my comment was too much, or caused him discomfort, but it was true. Rian and Ash’s father were very handsome, just like him. They had the same kind eyes as Ash, too. Eyes filled with so much love that could be captured simply in a photograph.
I walked over to his bed and sat down on it, wanting to shift the conversation to something a little lighter. I bounced a few times, feeling the mattress beneath me. “So this is where the magic happens, huh?”
Ash snickered and sat down beside me. I watched the slight tension in his shoulders fade due to the shift in conversation. “Not exactly. People don’t really come over to my place, outside of the guys helping me with the basement renovations. Let alone come in my bedroom. You are the first woman that’s been in here since, well, ever.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Ever?”
“Yeah. Ever.”
“But you’ve dated over the past ten years, right?”
He snickered with a headshake. “Dating is a stretch of a word, but yes, I’ve been with women.”
“And they’ve never been in your house?”
“Never.”
“Why not?”
Ash shrugged before rubbing his hands together. “It felt a little too personal, bringing someone into my real world.”
“But you let me in.”
“You’re not just any kind of woman. You’reyou, Karla.”
“That makes a difference?”
He smiled at me. A soft, knowing kind of smile. And therethey were again, those wild, intense butterflies. For the past decade, I felt different from the rest of the world. Ash had a way of making me feel like my uniqueness was a gift, not a curse. But that wasn’t new from him. I felt the same all those years before when he met me in the cemetery and asked me for my name.
I felt seen by him. I never knew how important it was to feel seen by another. And now, all these years later, he still saw me.
I saw him, too, and I had no plans to ever look away.
We sat there for a few moments, completely silent as we looked around. Each corner of the room held pieces of Ash. It told the story of the boy he once was, and the man he’d grown up to become. It was all of him—a blend of his past and present days. The air carried the faint scent of his cologne, and I breathed it in as his forearm brushed against mine.
I didn’t move it away.
He didn’t move either.
For some reason, sitting in that room felt like peace to me. It held a certain familiarity that I’d only ever experienced with the man who sat beside me. It felt like coming home to a place I was always meant to find.
A few moments later, Ash stood from the bed. I instantly missed his touch.
He walked over to his bookshelf and grabbed a novel entitledThe Last Call to Youby G.H. Peters. I smirked to myself, reading the title.
Ash held the book out toward me. “You should read this. I’ve read this book at least ten times. It’s my favorite novel in the whole world. I read it whenever I’m feeling extremely down and out. Or whenever I need to remind myself of what life could be if I chose to live in the moment instead of worrying about tomorrow or yesterday.”
My heartbeat quickened as I took the book from his hands.I traced my fingers over the cover, feeling my eyes grow teary. Then I cleared my throat and turned my back toward Ash. I slowly raised my shirt, showing a tattoo inked down my spine. It read “In the space between then and someday, we live in the now.” Words fromThe Last Call to Youthat changed my life. It was forever a reminder for me to stay steady, stay grounded, and not allow my mind to spiral.
