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After I swallow the second roll, I say, “You know what? I don’t even care in the slightest what nasty things might be in these rolls, the combination of it all is delicious! Can we get more?”
Zayn laughs. “Okay, missy. Slow your roll—literally and figuratively.”
“Don’t tell me how to live my life,” I tease.
He smirks, throwing up his hands in pretend protest. “Not sure what’s spicier . . . you or these rolls.”
He smiles at his own joke, and I can’t help but love the way his dark eyes sparkle when he does.
“I’m just saying, sushi will fill you up much faster than you think, so let’s finish these first.”
“Okay, fine,” I agree feeling like my heart is fuller than my stomach right now.
“Let’s hear more about this WOLO list you and Summer made. When did you make it?” Zayn leans down on his elbow.
I clear my throat, remembering the exact reason why. Him. Well, to get over him.
“Uh, oh it’s silly, really. She was trying to cheer me up after our breakup. We stayed up almost all night laughing and planning these crazy or as she believed not-so-crazy things that we’d do together as a bucket list.”
“Ah, at least I inspired something good after all.” He inches forward. “It sounds great. So what’s on the list that you’re most afraid to do?” he asks.
I’ve thought about this a lot, but for some reason I can’t really pinpoint it right now. “Hmm, it’s tough to say. Cliff diving and the blind date are the most intimidating for sure, but I think the one I fear the most is the tattoo.”
His left eyebrow raises. “The tattoo?”
I nod. “Yeah, I think it feels so permanent, and I don’t want to get something stupid that I’ll regret later. As you’re probably aware, I try to live with no regrets.”
“Makes sense. Any clue what you would get?” he asks.
“I think I have something in mind, but I wouldn’t know until I’m actually sitting in the chair.”
“Makes sense,” he says.
“Yeah,” I say. “What about you? Have any tats?”
“I do actually. This one here”— he rolls up his sleeve— “of a light saber fight between Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader. I also have one on my chest and one on my upper back. Upper back is angel wings with my birthday—the day my mom passed—and the other is a penguin, which my dad told me was my mom’s favorite animal. So they’re all symbolic of my mom. Well, except myStar Warsone.”
“Sounds pretty cool,” I admit. “I love that, Zayn. I’m sure your mom would be so proud of you, Mr. Firefighteranddad now. I can’t believe it.”
“I like to think so, too. And thanks,” he says.
“Anyway, I like tattoos that do have meaning, but I guess if I loved something as much as you loveStar Wars, that’d work, too.”
“For sure,” he says before taking a sip of his water. “Does Liam have tattoos?”
I’m jarred by his question. “Um, yes. He did, err—does. Only one across his back. An eagle. He never really shared its significance, but I think he just likes it.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry I asked. Was just curious,” he admits. “Without sounding too nosy, can I ask what happened . . . between you and Liam? If you don’t want to answer, I understand.”
I hesitate for a moment. “I—uh, no it’s fine. I think I’m ready to talk about it. But, well, one day he just left me. Filed for divorce without much conversation.”
“What? That asshole! Why? How could he?” I pause and notice as he briefly closes his eyes, probably realizing he did that exact thing to me a decade ago.
“Err, sorry about that. I know how that sounded now, but in all seriousness, I can’t wrap my head around why he would do that.”
I fidget with my chopsticks, mulling over how much I want to share with him.
“You know what?” Zayn raises his hands. “It’s not my business, and I do apologize for asking. You absolutely don’t have to share.”
