“You want to get a matching tattoo with me,” she says, a little shocked. “But it’s so permanent.”
“That’s sort of the point.” I pause, wondering why she’s not excited about this. I thought she would be, but maybe I’ve been reading her wrong. “We don’t have to. I just thought…” I trail off as she gets to her feet and starts to walk toward the trail.
I quickly get to my feet and hurry after her. “Where are you going?”
She glances over her shoulder at me, heading toward the trees at the bottom of the hill. “I want you to show me what you wrote last night.”
My expression falls. “Why?”
She turns around, walking backward with a grin on her face. “I want to see how you really feel—I want to make sure that you’re not just doing this for me because I’ve been pressuring you. That you really want this as much as I do. And if it does seem that you want to make that sort of leap with me, then I’ll totally do it, but if not, then…” She turns around as she reaches a steep spot on the hill where the ground gets a little loose.
“And if you don’t think I want this, then what?” I ask, catching up with her and placing my hand on her back to help her down the steep slope.
“Then we won’t get the tattoos right now,” she says, stumbling a little, and my fingers enfold her waist to catch her from falling.
“But I thought you wanted a commitment?” I ask, taking her hand as we reach the flat section at the bottom of the hill.
“I do,” she says as we duck to enter the trees. “But I also want to know for sure that you want it. And if you do, then great, and if you’re not ready for it, then you’re not ready for it.”
I grow a little nervous. “But what if what I wrote freaks you out?”
She aims a disbelieving look at me. “Are you kidding me? After all the stuff I put you through, you think that something you wrote in your journal is going to freak me out?” She pauses as we reach the open section of the trail where the trees are sparse. “You helped me through addiction, family problems, and helped me find myself. I don’t think anything you wrote could be more intense than that.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I say, unsure if I want her to read anything in my journal. It’s like giving her insight straight into my head.
“If you don’t want me to, then that’s fine,” she says. “But I’m not going to get matching tattoos until I know for sure that you want this and aren’t just saying so because I’ve been weird about commitment lately.”
“I never say anything but the truth,” I remind her. “Even if it’s harsh.” I pause, tugging my free hand through my hair, thinking about what I want and what I don’t want and which one is more important. But in the end only one thing matters—what she wants. “I’ll let you read it… but just prepare yourself… I always write what I say and sometimes… well, I’m not sure how you’re going to interpret it… whether you’re going to see it as me wanting a future with you.”
She swallows hard and then lets out a loud exhale, looking nervous. “Well, I guess we’re about to find out.”
Chapter 5
Lila
I don’t want to get too happy just yet. I need to make sure that he wants something linked to me branded on his gorgeous body forever. I don’t think that Ethan would ever lie to me, especially with something this big. He’s always been really truthful in the past, but the only way I’ll be able to truly know is if I read his words.
He looks nervous as we sit in his truck, the sun glaring in through the windows. He’s flipping through the pages of his journal, searching for the right page, and I try to stay calm in the passenger’s seat, hoping there’s nothing in there that’s going to upset me.
He finally stops flipping through the pages and takes a deep breath before he looks up at me. “Just make sure you read the whole thing. It starts off kind of”—he struggles for the right words—“unsure in the beginning, but it gets better.”
I nod and then reach across the seat toward the journal. He glances at it one more time, seeming torn, before he reluctantly hands it over. I take it and put it on my lap, feeling a little uneasy as I read the first word on the page: confusion.
“Just start right here?” I ask, tapping the top of the page with my finger.
He nods and then turns toward the window, staring at the vacant motel parking lot to the side of us. I swallow hard, tell myself to go into this with an open mind, and then with caution, I start to read.
Confusion. That’s what I feel every time I think about the future. I hate thinking about where I’m going to be in a few years—where I’m supposed to be. If I had my way, I’d take things day by day. Never think about the next day or about the past. I’d live life in the moment. Breathe it. Live freely. It’s so much less stressful than worrying all the time about where I’m going to be down the road or who I’m going to be with. I already lost someone once that I cared for. And the idea of losing Lila is like a hundred times worse than that. I’m not even sure if I could get over her if I tried. And what if I didn’t lose her, but we just ended up despising each other like my parents and her parents do. That would be equally as hard. It seems so much easier just to stay away from that deep of a commitment and avoid all the “what ifs.”
The problem is it’s sort of selfish to think this way about life, especially when I’m not the only one in my life. Lila is such a huge part of me. She’s more than that. Over these last couple of years, she’s become my best friend and not opening up to her completely because of my fears is wrong. She’s the person I love more than anyone else in this world and if I have to open my eyes for a moment, and look forward, all I see is her. God, it’s the truth… She’s all I want. That much I know. I never want anyone else to go through all this shit with me—to go through life with me. And if I have to decide one thing right now about my future, it’s that I want to be with her. I want her with me. Even five or ten years down the road. Even when we’re thirty or forty. Even if it means we could possibly turn out like our parents, I want to try. I want to try to have a future with her. What the hell happens between now and then I’m not so sure. But do I even need to be sure about that yet? Maybe I only need to be sure about one thing. And that’s her and I always being together. Even through the shitty times. I’d never go back and change a damn thing. Every single thing that we’ve been through has gotten us to this moment where she’s lying in the bed beside me and just her being here makes me so content. I breathe easier. I don’t even want to think about being on this trip alone. Yeah, I love the quiet, but it could never compare to all the moments we’ve shared together. Fireworks. Arguments. Ponds. Kisses. Sex… God the sex is great. Every conversation with her, good and bad. Every moment, light and dark. I want to relive it over and over again. I want so many more moments and conversations.