Page 211 of A Taste of Vanilla

He nods.

“Don’t look relieved. It’ll make me cry.”

His gaze lowers, but I see the relief in his eyes. The kind that feels like he’s letting out a breath.

This man. This impossible, careful man.

I want to crawl onto his lap again. Not for sex this time, but to put my face against his neck and stay there until the world stops requiring me to be impressive.

Instead, I eat a green and red gummy worm.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

“I haven’t counted recently.”

“That’s a really sexy answer.”

His cheeks warm. “It’s an accurate answer.”

“Those overlap sometimes, you know.”

His gaze flicks to mine, and warmth flows through me, followed by pain. I ignore the warmth and respect the warning.

“Do you regret any of them?”

“Nope.”

“Even after Germany?”

“Especially after Germany.”

He looks at the wall across from us, his voice low. “They were the first things I chose because I wanted them. Not because Marley needed something or because rent was due. They were mine, even after they cost me.”

I breathe carefully. “I hate that you feel the need to hide them.”

His lips thin.

I put down my gummy worms. “No, I mean it.” My voice gets rougher. “I hate that people made you cover them.”

I push myself up a little too fast and wince. Warren moves, then stops himself.

“I’m okay,” I assure him.

He settles back, but barely.

I reach one hand out. He looks at it, then moves closer.

Not onto the mattress, but just close enough.

I touch the compass again. “I like them,” I say.

His eyes drop to my fingers. “I know.”

“No, I don’t mean they’re only attractive. They are, and it’s deeply inconvenient for everyone who has to be normal around you.”

His lips curve.

“I mean what they really mean.”