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He doesn’t look nervous at all as he holds his arm up. Looking at his bicep, he narrows his eyes at the scripture.
“Sum satis?” He sounds confused. “Did I say that right? Did you put gibberish on my body? Is it gibberish for nice balls?”
“I am enough,” I barely whisper. “That’s what it says. But in Latin. And, yes, I’m aware it’s a tattoo probably more women get than men. But you’re confident in your manhood.” I grab his hand and interlace my fingers with his. I know we said no handholding, but I think this is an exception. “Even if you don’t talk about yourstuffvery often and you try to play everything off like you’re fine, I want you to know you are enough, Brody. And I hope, one day, you’ll believe that too. Because I know I do.”
I look at him, knowing that he hates the attention on him when it comes to his past issues. Normally, we touch on the subject and quickly go back to something less dark. But it’s only us in the room right now. And for once, I don’t want him to brush off the fact that we are both screwed up. Because it isn’t either of our fault.
“Thank you,” he whispers, staring at the tattoo. “You’re the only one who’s ever believed that. Well, you and my gram.”
“She’s a smart lady.” I smile. “We’re healing. I know it.”
Looking at me, he exhales, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit. “Yeah…I guess we are, aren’t we?” His eyes move to my lips again. “You know what?”
“What?”
“You’re enough too,” he says softly before pressing his lips to mine. Blurring that line a bit more.
Brody
“This is a fucking porno.” I gape at the screen playing the movie365 Days. “I mean, my God. And how many times is he going to blow his load before his dick turns into a limp noodle?” I stare in awe, my eyes widening. “And this is coming from me. And I love sex.”
She covers her face, her cheeks burning red. “Okay, so I didn’t know it wasthisextreme. I just heard some girls talking about it in class. It sounded like an actual love story.” She rolls her eyes. “Not a freaking kidnapping freak show with a side of sexual assault.”
I sip on my water, watching as Massimo fucks Laura in thirty different positions in a matter of seconds. “I don’t get how her falling off a boat transpired into her sucking his dick and then them banging each other all over this yacht. Look, now, she’s hanging out, topless. Like there isn’t some old fucker there, just looking at her tits.” I sigh. “I’m going about life all wrong.”
They continue fucking on the screen. It’s hot. I mean, it’s basically watching porn. And who doesn’t enjoy that? But this is weird. And that’s from a guy who is fucked up himself. But this is a whole other level of dark.
“What is the actual storyline here?” Bria says, thinking out loud. “I almost get something, and then suddenly, they are humping each other.”
“He’s a lost soul.” I nod. “I feel kind of bad for him.”
“He’s killed people in this movie! And—and—he freaking held her hostage!” She shakes her head, scoffing at me. “I don’t give a damn if his penis gives the world’s best orgasms. He’s a bad dude.”
“So, you don’t think he’s hot?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that. Look at him. He’sgorgeous. But still, he’s an ass.”
“Should we turn it off?” I say slowly. “You seem awfully hostile about this.”
“No. I need to see how it ends,” she mutters. “Besides, the sex is hot. Even if it seems a bit far-fetched.”
We continue watching the movie until, eventually, toward the end, Bria falls asleep, and I turn it off. Lying next to her and looking at the new tattoo on her wrist.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
Turning my eyes to the ceiling, I think about the fact that she thinks I’m enough. And then my mind goes back to when I was younger.
My whole life, there have been random people who have gone out of their way to do things for me. The lunch lady in first grade—she’d let me have seconds in both breakfast and lunch because I think she knew those were the only meals I got during the day. My teacher in first grade, who attempted to have my father investigated because, apparently, dirty clothes, greasy hair, and bruises weren’t in the norm and she had her suspicions. The crappy thing about the state though is, unless a kid basically dies, they aren’t going to step in. Besides, so many others had it worse than me, I’m sure. My third-grade teacher would give me her son’s hand-me-downs. And the best part was that she’d do it after class when no one was around.
When the coach of the local hockey team learned that having me on the team might be beneficial, he offered me a spot. I hadn’t even needed to try out, thankfully. Because I had never ice-skated before. I asked my dad if he could help me buy what I needed. The conversation ended with me getting my ass beat, to the point that I didn’t even want to go to practice anymore.
But I took the bus to the rink after school anyway. And the fact that some of the kids from my class rode that same bus too made it a little worse. They didn’t exactly want to be the dirty, poor kid’s friend who used to lie about going on trips around the country. But given my temper and strength, they also knew not to fuck with me.
The coach took one look at me and asked if I had my gear. When I shook my head, wanting to climb into a hole, I expected him to tell me to leave. Instead, he went into his office and returned with an entire box of stuff for me to try on. Because of that one man, I got to attend hockey camps in the summer in high school because he had gotten me the grants to pay for them. Also because of him, I’m likely going to be a professional hockey player very soon. And even if I never make it to the NHL, I got to get out of South Carolina and away from my father, and now, I’m at Brooks and not stuck in the same trailer park next to my dad, drinking my days away.
And I guess until Bria came along, I really hadn’t even thought about the magnitude of what that guy did for me. And as I look at my new tattoo again, I let it sink in that maybe, just maybe, other people have also viewed me as being enough my entire life. The ones who have helped me through even the worst of days.
The softest snore comes from Bria as she lies asleep, just as she has been for over an hour. Her shift last night at Club 83 apparently lasted well after midnight, and then of course, she couldn’t give her run up this morning and sleep in. I think for her, running is her drug. It numbs the shit she doesn’t want to feel.
