yawned under the hot spray. He’d slept well though, better than he had in a long time. It seemed his day off was already starting out better than any that had come before it. When he’d first heard Ava mention Zoey’s name over the phone, nothing like this had entered his mind. He’d only wanted to chance to apologize for his own nightmarish behavior and nothing more. The most he had expected to get out of it was the opportunity to say it.
He supposed AA had done that, helped to change his way of thinking. He’d learned to take things one day at a time so as not to be overwhelmed at the mere thought of an entire lifetime of sobriety. But in training yourself to deal with things incrementally, you also removed your ability, or at least your willingness, to hope as well. If looking too far ahead was unwise, trying to spot the finish line was downright dangerous.
When you expected the worst instead of daring to hope for the best, you developed a numbness toward anything good that happened.
He didn’t want to be that way, though. He didn’t want to close himself off from what was happening to him now, even if it didn’t last— even though it probably wouldn’t last. Zoey was here now and it might be the last truly good thing that would ever happen to him, so he decided to ride it out for as long as he possibly could.
His eyes were closed when the glass door slid open. He turned suddenly. “What are you doing?” he asked her, grabbing at her arms. He swept her to him and held her against him. “Zoey, you could fall!” he admonished. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
She laughed. “So, you think I just shouldn’t shower for the whole nine months?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I have a tub.”
She slid her arms around him and smiled up at him. “But you’re not in it.”
He gazed down at her as the water pebbled on her bare skin, reminding him again of better times. They’d never showered together in this apartment, but they had in the old one, plenty of times, but not nearly enough according to his way of thinking. His reminiscing was soon sidelined when she unthreaded her arms from his, turned, and reached for the soap on the shelf.
“I’ll do you,” she told them, “you do me.”
He smirked. “I think we’ve established that.”
She gave him a sharp look that made him laugh. She grasped his arm and tugged. She wasn’t strong enough to turn him on her best day, but he got the message. He turned to face the wall as she started rubbing the bar between her hands. His cock grew in response, indicating it wanted to be next.
He felt her soap-slicked fingers smooth over his shoulder. She paused, pressing lightly against the tattoo that had been drawn there. “This is the day your mom died?” she asked as she traced the date inked into his skin.
He nodded.
She touched the other shoulder. “What’s this one?”
“The day I got sober.”
They’d been the two most important events in his life thus far. Dalton, Adam, and Jonah had each had Mom’s date applied. Dalton had asked Adam to add the day he’d gone to rehab, as well. Ava wanted hers done, but she’d have to wait a little longer. Nobody thought waiting would actually deter her, but the law was the law and Adam was always on the right side of it these days.
Slowly Zoey’s fingertips moved down Dalton’s back. She followed the outline there which was as familiar to him as the scar on his hand. Feathers, claws, beating wings. He couldn’t really see it in the mirror, but he’d keep the original pencil drawing.
“It’s a phoenix,” he told her. “It’s-”
“The bird that rises from the ashes.”
“Yeah. Adam drew it for me when I got out of rehab. Maybe he meant it as an apology for dragging me there in the first place. Or… maybe I let him put it on me as an apology for making him do it. I don’t know. Either way, we needed a way to move on, start over. This seemed like a good idea.”
Zoey was quiet a moment
He supposed AA had done that, helped to change his way of thinking. He’d learned to take things one day at a time so as not to be overwhelmed at the mere thought of an entire lifetime of sobriety. But in training yourself to deal with things incrementally, you also removed your ability, or at least your willingness, to hope as well. If looking too far ahead was unwise, trying to spot the finish line was downright dangerous.
When you expected the worst instead of daring to hope for the best, you developed a numbness toward anything good that happened.
He didn’t want to be that way, though. He didn’t want to close himself off from what was happening to him now, even if it didn’t last— even though it probably wouldn’t last. Zoey was here now and it might be the last truly good thing that would ever happen to him, so he decided to ride it out for as long as he possibly could.
His eyes were closed when the glass door slid open. He turned suddenly. “What are you doing?” he asked her, grabbing at her arms. He swept her to him and held her against him. “Zoey, you could fall!” he admonished. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
She laughed. “So, you think I just shouldn’t shower for the whole nine months?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I have a tub.”
She slid her arms around him and smiled up at him. “But you’re not in it.”
He gazed down at her as the water pebbled on her bare skin, reminding him again of better times. They’d never showered together in this apartment, but they had in the old one, plenty of times, but not nearly enough according to his way of thinking. His reminiscing was soon sidelined when she unthreaded her arms from his, turned, and reached for the soap on the shelf.
“I’ll do you,” she told them, “you do me.”
He smirked. “I think we’ve established that.”
She gave him a sharp look that made him laugh. She grasped his arm and tugged. She wasn’t strong enough to turn him on her best day, but he got the message. He turned to face the wall as she started rubbing the bar between her hands. His cock grew in response, indicating it wanted to be next.
He felt her soap-slicked fingers smooth over his shoulder. She paused, pressing lightly against the tattoo that had been drawn there. “This is the day your mom died?” she asked as she traced the date inked into his skin.
He nodded.
She touched the other shoulder. “What’s this one?”
“The day I got sober.”
They’d been the two most important events in his life thus far. Dalton, Adam, and Jonah had each had Mom’s date applied. Dalton had asked Adam to add the day he’d gone to rehab, as well. Ava wanted hers done, but she’d have to wait a little longer. Nobody thought waiting would actually deter her, but the law was the law and Adam was always on the right side of it these days.
Slowly Zoey’s fingertips moved down Dalton’s back. She followed the outline there which was as familiar to him as the scar on his hand. Feathers, claws, beating wings. He couldn’t really see it in the mirror, but he’d keep the original pencil drawing.
“It’s a phoenix,” he told her. “It’s-”
“The bird that rises from the ashes.”
“Yeah. Adam drew it for me when I got out of rehab. Maybe he meant it as an apology for dragging me there in the first place. Or… maybe I let him put it on me as an apology for making him do it. I don’t know. Either way, we needed a way to move on, start over. This seemed like a good idea.”
Zoey was quiet a moment
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