AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s Nova’s drawing?” Sharon lifts a brow.
Leave it to Cora to grab Devin’s arm the moment he drops the bread basket. “Oh my god, this isn’t just Nova’s drawing. It’s her face.”
If this were a movie, a slow montage would fill the screen, sharing the reactions of each dinner guest, but it’s not. This is my life, and in my life, there are murmurs and stares, Mom hissing for Cora to drop Devin’s arm, Dev’s pursed lips, and Crew is a typical teenage boy.
“Dude, you have my sister’s face on your arm?” He shoves half a roll into his big mouth. Unfortunately, it doesn’t keep him quiet. “Why would you do that?”
“Because she has a beautiful face,” Devin replies without missing a beat.
I snort, Sharon and Mom swoon, because of course they do, and Dad asks for a closer look. Angling his arm for Dad, Dev catches my stare. “Do you dispute the fact that you have a beautiful face?” He cocks his head, lifting a brow in challenge.
My skin heats. “Well, it would be conceited of me to agree with your statement.”
“You have a very beautiful face,” Mom pipes in, and Sharon nods.
I trap my tongue between my teeth, killing a full-blown smile as Devin wags his brows, silently saying, “Told you.”
“Whoever did that does great work. If I didn’t have three other kids, I’d ink that beautiful face on my skin, too.” Dad shoots me a wink. “That’s a great drawing, sweetheart.”
I wave him off. “It was just a doodle I drew on a napkin.”
“Wait a minute.” Cora interrupts, sitting forward and staring down Dad. “Are you saying you wouldn’t want a tattoo of my face on you?”
“It wasn’t just a doodle,” Devin speaks over Cora, and if Dad replies to her question, I don’t hear because I’ve been sucked into Devin Hawthorne’s vortex.
Crew laughs. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to put someone’s face on their body permanently.”
“Right?” Myles jumps into the everyone-has-an-opinion-party. “Statistically speaking—”
The dirty ‘S’ word breaks Devin’s spell on me. “Ugh, don’t get started on statistics again, Myles. No one understands all your brilliance.” Wishing I could reach across the table and smack him, I wave my fork like a sword. “And people get tattoos for all sorts of reasons.”
Crew points his fork at Dad. “Dad has a tattoo of four paper planes, and a compass with the coordinates for where our grandparents’ plane crashed. He’s also got the steps to making a paper plane on his side.”
“Paper planes,” Myles mutters. “It’s sort of this whole thing with them.”
Mom and Dad share wavering smiles across the length of the table, reminding me that regardless of how many years pass, their losses will never fade.
“But like, really.” My sister angles herself in Devin’s direction. “You just put Nova’s drawing on your arm because she’s beautiful?”
“Cora.” Trust me. I’d give anything to hear him weasel his way out of her questioning, but dinner with our families is not the time or the place.
“What? It’s a valid question.”
“No, it’s okay.” Devin shrugs like this isn’t an awkward conversation to have in front of everyone. “Your sister played an important role in my life, and I wanted a reminder. This specific sketch had a little more meaning because she always drew on napkins during our road trip.”
Satisfied with his answer, she scoops up a fork full of mashed potatoes. “I think tattoos are sexy on guys, but I’m not sure I’d ever want one.”
“That’s because you change your mind as often as you change underwear. Devin’s girlfriend, Palmer, has a gorgeous full sleeve. It’s like this lace-edged, delicate flower thing that is a complete juxtaposition of Palmer.” I tip my head in contemplation. “I don’t know. Maybe I’d consider getting a couple.”
An odd expression falls across Devin’s face, the table quieting before they resume eating. But he doesn’t say a word. One swallow. One slow blink. And then he looks away.What, Palmer can have tattoos, but I can’t?
After dinner, we move to the living room where football takes over the television. I’ve never been a huge football fan, but now I look forward to watching TSG players on the field each week. I keep the notes section open on my cell to jot down thoughts on advertisers or plays our guys make. Leo likes to tease me about my lack of knowledge, but I’m working on it.
Devin passes by me on his way to the kitchen, where the desserts are on the counter as a free-for-all. He pauses at my back. I feel more than see him until his hand pats my shoulder, his fingertips grazing in a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Once a list girl, always a list girl.”
With my stomach performing gymnastics, Cora nestles beside me on the couch and leans close to my ear. “He has your face on his body.”
“Shhh, Cor,” I whisper back, keeping my stare on the TV. “Enough. He already told you why. It’s not a big deal.”
