Our Favorite Days by Chelsea M. Cameron
“You did really well. Didn’t even shed a tear. I cried for my first,” he said in a low voice that made me open my eyes and turn slowly to look at him. Motherfucker, that hurt even worse than getting the damn tattoo.
“You did?” I asked, not really believing him.
“Yup. Bawled like a baby. The only one who knew was the guy doing the work and I swore him to secrecy. You took it like a champ, Missy. Like everything.” I snorted and for some thought back the first time I’d gone down on him.
“Well, now I’m second-guessing every single decision I’ve ever made,” I said, wincing again.
Hunter did carry me upstairs and put me to bed, but not before everyone crowded around to see the tattoo. It was universally heralded as “wicked awesome” and I was pretty sure they weren’t just saying that because I had this permanent thing on my body.
“Are you going to tell your mom?” Hunter asked as I flipped through the channels with one hand and sipped a vanilla chai tea with the other.
“Um, have you met my mom? She’s going to murder me in a very messy way if and when she finds out about this. I’m just going to keep hoping she never finds out.” I shrugged one shoulder and settled on a marathon of something stupid on MTV. Watching other people make terrible decisions in their lives made me feel better.
“She might surprise you. Maybe she’ll think it’s cool that you have your lucky talisman on your body forever.” Our eyes met and he gave me a smile that was tinged with sadness.
I still remembered the night when I finally told him everything. Pulled all the skeletons out of my closet and laid them at his feet to judge. And he’d looked at them and told me he loved me anyway.
“Yeah, I don’t think so. But nice try,” I said, putting down the remote and patting his leg.
“It was worth a shot, wasn’t it?” he said.
“Yeah, sure.”
Sleeping that night was hell. I couldn’t find a comfortable position. Everything hit the tattoo and I was cursing my past self for deciding to get it on my ribs.
I finally passed out just before the sun came up and Hunter let me sleep until the early afternoon.
“Fuck fucking fucks,” I said as I got up.
“So I’m guessing the tattoo healing is going well?” Renee said, lurking in the open doorway. She smirked at me, as if this was somehow funny. She wasn’t a fan of tattoos, mostly because of the potential for them to go wrong and need medical attention.
“Shut up,” I said, pointing at her and slowly shuffling to the bathroom. I had to clean the tattoo, but the idea of getting in a shower made me want to cry.
“Now, now, be nice to the person who brought you not only water and painkillers, but also some goo that’s going to help you heal better,” she said, pulling out the items from behind her back.
Okay, so that was a nice thing to do.
“And, I got you out of Chore Day with Darah,” she said as I took the pills and opened the water to take a swig.
“Well, that’s nice. Where’s Hunter?” I was surprised he hadn’t come up to check on me yet.
“There’s something wrong with Dusty’s Golf, so all the ‘menfolk’ are out in the yard looking at the engine and discussing things as if they actually know what the hell they’re doing.” I snorted. Hunter could fix a few car issues, but he was no certified mechanic.
Renee helped me to the bathroom and helped me peel off my shirt. I’d left the plastic wrap-like stuff on, but today there was some clearish-red fluid oozing out under it that had gotten on my shirt.
“Ew,” I said as I used a clean towel to wipe it away.
“Yeah, tattoos are gross. Wait till you get to the peeling stage,” Renee said with a grin. I didn’t even want to know about that.
I ended up making it into the shower, but the lukewarm water still stung. By the time I got out, Hunter was there, holding a towel for me.
“You figure out what’s wrong with the car?” I asked.
“Think so. Mase took Dusty down to the parts store. How’s the tat?” I hissed through my teeth as the towel made contact with my raw skin.
“Fantastic, yours?” He held out an arm that was shiny with the same stuff Renee had given me. Must have put it on earlier.
Hunter helped me slick on the goo and get dressed again. The pain was starting to subside, so I went downstairs to see what everyone else was doing.
The smell of fresh baking hit my nose and I moaned. I was starving.
“You are not allowed to make that sound when I am not in a position to be alone with you,” Hunter growled in my ear.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said innocently and then made the sound again.
“You are in so much trouble,” he said as we made it into the kitchen to find Darah surrounded by plates and trays of cookies.
“Okay, what is happening here?” I asked. “Are you and Hope having a bakeoff?” That would be seriously awesome. And seriously fattening.
“No, I just… felt like baking!” Darah said in a voice that was high and definitely not normal. Her eyes were a little wide under the shadow of her bangs. I gave Hunter a look out of the corner of my eye and he shrugged. Well. Something was going on with her.
“Uh huh,” I said, reaching for a snickerdoodle.
“Can’t I just feel like baking?” she asked, pulling yet another pan of cookies out of the oven.
“Sure, absolutely you can,” I said and nudged Hunter to agree with me. Darah smiled, but it was tight. We were all so used to her being the one who was organized and on time that seeing that she didn’t always have everything together was kind of a shock.
Maybe I needed to have a little chat with her when no one else was around. I owed her for all her wisdom from the other day.
Practically reading my mind, Hunter squeezed my shoulder and went back outside to see what was what with the car. Since Renee was working at the hospital and Jos was down in her room, that left me alone with Darah.
“Dare?” I asked as she started frosting some extremely tiny cookies.
“Yeah?” she said, not looking up from the cookie.
“You okay?” She nodded jerkily and I walked over to take the pastry bag from her hands. When she raised her head, there were tears sparkling in her eyes.
“What happened?” I said, my mind running through a million possibilities at once, all of them terrible.
She blinked and then blew out a breath that stirred her bangs.
“Mase wants to get married.” Was there something in the water in this house?
“And?” I asked, yanking back all the words I wanted to say and reserving judgment until she told me what was bothering her.
“And… I just… I want to. I really do. But…” She put her hands in the pockets of the cute little apron she always wore when she made cookies.
“But it’s a lot, right? It’s a huge step,” I said and she nodded.
“Plus, my family is just crazy.” Even after knowing Darah for this long, I still really didn’t know a whole lot of details about her family. She always pulled back when anyone tried to talk to her about them. Even Mase had a hard time getting her to open up.
“Uh huh,” I said, hoping she would go on. Sighing, she pulled out one of the dining chairs and plunked down in it. I did the same and jumped a little when there was the loud sound of an engine starting up in the driveway. Guess they fixed the car.
“My family is… difficult. They’re, for lack of a better word, distant. My parents were very hands-off with me when I was little. I can’t even remember them hugging me. I thought everyone’s parents were like that until I got to school. And it’s not just my parents that are like that. It’s my aunts and uncles and everyone else. It’s almost like a family disease or something.” I couldn’t even imagine someone not wanting to hug Darah. She was sweet as a freaking peach and loved harder than almost anyone I knew.
I didn’t want to call her parents assholes in front of her, but they were definitely assholes.
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“You’re afraid you’re going to turn into her,” I said. She pressed her lips together and nodded.
“And I know how stupid that is. I know how much John loves me.” Darah always called Mase by his first name.
“He does. He really does.” He’d fallen ass over heels for her the moment he’d seen her. Completely ignored Renee, who had been doing some of her best flirting at the time. Nope, Dare was it for him. And he for her. The men in Hunter’s family loved strong and deep. With one notable exception.
She smiled and looked down at her hands clasped on the table.
“I know he does. I love him too. And I didn’t know that it was possible to be this happy in a relationship. That’s why I was so reluctant to date.” Before Mase, Darah had always shied away from most guys. I understood it because I was the same way.
And then those boys. Those two boys with their wicked smiles and pretty words had busted their way into our lives and now we were stuck with them. I said as much to Darah and that got her laughing and wiping the tears out of her eyes.
“You know, when Hunter and I get married and you and Mase get married, we’ll be sisters.” That made her smile.
“We already are.” I held out my arms and we hugged. “Thanks for listening to me complain about my amazing boyfriend. Not a whole lot of people would tell me I wasn’t being crazy about it.” I let her go and shook my head.
“No, I totally get it. I’ve thought everything you’ve thought already. A hundred times. My parents’ marriage didn’t work out, so why would mine? But then I look at Hunter and I can’t imagine my life without him. And isn’t that really what marriage is?” She nodded.
The front door open and Mase came into the kitchen. That was my cue.
“I’m going to… go back up to my room and stare at my tattoo in the mirror,” I said as I backed out of the room.
“Dare?” Mase said His jaw was twitching and he kept shuffling his feet. He was totally freaking out
I didn’t wait to hear what Darah said to him, but I was pretty sure they were gonna be okay.
On Monday my tattoo started itching instead of being painful. It was all I could do to not scratch it right off. I’d never had poison ivy before, but this had to be worse. It was torture.
“Don’t you dare scratch,” Hunter said, pointing an accusing finger at me as I shifted my shirt on Monday night. “I’m going to tape oven mitts to your hands.” He looked pretty serious so I put my hands up in surrender.
“Fine, fine. Even if I was just adjusting my shirt and not doing anything else.” I glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at me. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You dork.”
“Hey, you’re the one who loves me, so what does that make you?” I shrugged.
“Awesome?” He shook his head and sat down on the couch next to me.
“So, you know October break is coming up.” I was very much looking forward to pushing pause on the life button and not having to worry about school and everything else for a few days.
“Right,” I said.
“And I was thinking that maybe I could take you to Wylie.” My mouth dropped open.
“Are you serious?” He nodded and I could tell he wasn’t messing with me.
“You’re going to take me to your hometown?” He smiled and I couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah, I was thinking about it and how different it would be having you there. I made a list of all of these things I wanted to show you and, I don’t know, I got excited about it.” He shrugged and I threw my arms around him, being careful of my tattoo.
“Whoa, I didn’t know I was going to get that reaction,” he said, laughing and wrapping his arms around my back.
“You’re soooo getting blow jobs for this,” I whispered in his hear before I bit his earlobe. He made a sound low in his throat.
“I like the sound of that. So I should book the plane tickets?” I nodded and licked said earlobe.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he said, a little growl in his voice.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I said and he knew exactly what I meant.
I didn’t show Taylor how nervous I was about going back home to Wylie. It was a smallish town near Dallas. Had a whole lot of cows and not much else.
Fortunately, my girl distracted me by being a nervous flyer. It was something I hadn’t even considered, but when we sat in our seats and the plane started taxiing, she gripped my hand so hard that her nails dug in.
“What’s happening?” I had somehow forgotten she’d never been on a plane before.
“We’re just moving to the runway,” I said, putting my arm around her and pulling her toward me. As luck would have it¸ it was just the two of us in our row. Her eyes were wide and panicky and her breathing kept stuttering.
“It’s okay, Missy,” I said, turning her head so it was tucked into my chest. I wished this were a bench seat so I could pull her across my lap and let her rest on me fully.
“Why am I freaking out?” she said, her voice muffled by my shirt.
“I freaked out on my first flight too. It’s totally normal,” I said. I’d actually thrown up on my first flight, but I wasn’t going to tell her that in case it gave her ideas. My fingers made soothing circles on her back and she held my other hand in a death grip. By the time the plane started to take off, I had no circulation left in it.
“We’re up, we’re up,” I said once the plane leveled out.
“Oh, thank God,” she said, trembling a little as she lifted her head.
“I wouldn’t suggest looking out the window,” I said and then pulled the shade.
“That’s probably wise,” she said, giving me a wobbly smile. I pushed her hair back.
“You okay?” She pressed her lips together.
“I think so.”
She put on her headphones and closed her eyes, so I nabbed her e-reader to finish the book I’d been working on the day before. I should probably get my own, but stealing hers was so much more fun. Plus, then we only had to buy one copy of each book. Taylor was on a fantasy kick, and as soon as she finished a book she really liked, she passed it over to me.
Our first flight to LaGuardia was short, and I woke her just as we were getting ready to descend.
“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” she said with a yawn. “Hopefully that will happen when we fly to Dallas because then I don’t have to spend the entire time freaking out that I’m trapped in a flying tin can.” I laughed and kissed her cheek.
By the time we landed in Dallas, the sun was sinking in the sky and we were both hungry enough to eat the interior of the rental car.
“Where would you like to eat?” I asked and Taylor gave me a look that I knew well.
“Got it. Whatever is closest and fastest and has vegetarian food.” She nodded and stretched her arms over her head.
I got off the highway and we hit a chain Mexican place that didn’t charge you extra for guac. Taylor inhaled her cheese quesadillas and started sneaking (not very subtly) bites of my rice until I pushed my plate over to her. My burrito that was the size of my arm, but I managed to finish it anyway.
“Oh my God, I don’t want to move,” Taylor said as she slumped back against the booth.
“I know,” I said, resting my hands on my stomach. I was probably going to have regrets later, but right now I was happy.
“Is it weird to be back?” she asked, running her hand across my head. My hair had gotten a little long. It was driving me crazy. I needed to cut it again very soon.
“A little. But then, it’s not? I don’t know if that makes any sense. Either way, I’m glad you’re here with me.” Her smile was dazzling and made me want to kiss her senseless. If only I could move.
We
“It’s so warm here. I can’t get over it,” she said. Closing her eyes and inhaling, she looked so beautiful that it almost stopped my heart. She would still be doing that to me decades from now. The breeze picked up, bringing with it the scents of home. Maine smelled so green and tangy from the ocean. Texas was different, but it was nice to be back.
Since there weren’t any good places to stay in Wylie, we were staying at a hotel in Dallas. I’d booked one of the nicest rooms. It had a Jacuzzi tub and the minute Taylor saw it, she kicked off her shoes and jumped in.
“Holy crap, this tub is huge. We can totally sit in this together.” I shucked off my sneakers and got in with her, sitting so her feet were in my lap.
“There’s only one problem,” I said, putting on a serious face.
“What?”
“We both have clothes on,” I said with a wink. She pinched my nose, which made me yelp.
“Well, you know that situation can be changed,” she said, taking her feet back and then getting out of the tub. What was she doing?
“Give me two seconds,” she said, dashing out of the room. What the hell? We’d been taking it slow since she’d gotten her tattoo, which had finally healed.
Taylor bounced back into the bathroom with her phone. She did something and then set it on the sink. Music poured from the phone. It was one of our songs.
“‘C’est la Mort’,” I said.
“‘C’est la Mort’,” she repeated.
“What do you want?” I asked. She’d told me and I couldn’t have been more shocked. It was one of the last songs I ever would have thought she’d pick. She took my shock negatively.
“What? Don’t know it? Not hip enough for you?” I’d had to look away from her for a second to get myself together. That song had special meaning for me and I didn’t know why. It just reached that deep place inside me where my soul lived and plucked at my strings. I knew if I tried to sing the song to her, I wouldn’t make it through, so I just played the melody, my fingers aching with the beauty of it.