Agreement.

“Do you have pictures of him?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Someday, I’d like to see.”

“Someday … soon …I’ll find ’em and pull ’em out.”

“Cool,” she said, carefully nonchalant, going for another chip.

After she was done, he did too, telling her, “Something you said in your studio made me think.”

She munched and tipped her head to the side. “About what?”

“About art being pain. I got that piece in the living room, and from the minute I bought it, I wondered what I was thinking. Since it’s been sitting there, every time I see it, I wonder if having it isn’t a little off. Even disrespectful, that a depiction of what took Jordan out was what I have sitting in my living room.”

“And?” she prompted quietly when he stopped talking.

“And then you offered me ‘After,’ and I already knew I was gonna buy it in your show. I didn’t care how much it cost. I wanted it from the minute I saw it. Because it was you. And I wanted you. I didn’t have any of you back then, so even little pieces would work, I wanted you that bad. But in the end, I knew, I wanted all of you.”

She had nothing to say to that.

But now he was getting another look.

Lots of warmth.

Axl kept talking.

“Then, after I was a dick to you about Jordan, I talked with Mo. He has issues. We all do. We look out for each other, but we can’t be there twenty-four seven. So, he told me, when he has his moments, Lottie looks after him and I knew that gutted him, because you don’t want to lay that kind of heavy on someone you love. Which was what I was trying to protect you from. I didn’t want you to shoulder that heavy. But then Mo told me Lottie doesn’t mind. She’s all over it. Because she loves him and that’s a part of him and she wants it all.”

Now Hattie was looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read.

But it looked like surprise.

So he kept explaining.

“Now I get that’s why I have that piece in the living room. To remind me of the pain of losing Jordan. Which is something I didn’t want, but it’s the last thing I got from him. Even as much as that sucks, it’s still precious because it means I had him in the first place. I loved the guy, and I was at his back when he died. And when that happened to him, there was no other place I’d want to be. And ‘After’ is the girl you were, folded in on herself. But you had the nerve and mental toughness to unfold and fly high. That was my girl then, and that’s my girl now. But I didn’t have you then. Though, when ‘After’ is here, I’ll have you. Then and now. I’ll have all of you, even your pain, which is what I need.”

This time, when he stopped talking, she started.

“Someone you love?” she whispered.

“Sorry?” he asked.

“You said you don’t want to lay the heavy on someone you love.”

Well, fuck.

He had said that.

He stared in her eyes.

She stared in his.

They did this a long time.

He broke it.

“I would have wanted to do that with more fanfare, maybe some roses, definitely Mexican street corn deviled eggs.”

She didn’t laugh.

Didn’t even smile.

Tears started shimmering in her eyes.

He thought it was a little freaky, but he couldn’t deny it. He loved to see his girl cry, though only when it was tears like that.

She was pretty all the time.

Even a pretty crier.

But at its core, it was the emotion behind it that he loved.

“You’re pretty when you cry,” he said quietly.

“Dad hated it when I cried.”

“Of course he did, he loves you. No parent wants to see their kid cry. I don’t mind because you’re crying because I love you. And, bears repeating, it’s pretty.”

“I didn’t get it,” she said.

Okay, not only didn’t he understand that, it wasn’t what he expected after he told her he loved her.

Her jumping him, yes.

Her getting tears in her eyes, yes.

Her telling him she felt the same, he fucking hoped so.

That, no.

“Didn’t get what?”

“I knew I was happy, and I’d never really felt that before you.”

There it was, and now the warmth he was getting from her he felt burn in his gut.

She kept going.

“I was happy because I had you, and Dad was turning around, and I love my job. But I was really relieved to get back into the studio. And I was surprised how relieved I was. I thought my art was just an outlet. Something I was messing around with. I’d always been creative. I didn’t realize, until recently, that I just did what I did. But one of the things I didn’t do was allow myself to dream. I was just going through the motions of life. I never let anyone know I did that. My work in the studio. I never gave it any importance. Not because I feared no one would think it was good. Because I was so stuck in a life that was going nowhere, I didn’t think there was anywhere to go. I just never thought to dream.”

Axl said nothing.

Hattie did.

“And you came into my life. And suddenly, I’m not at Dad’s every night. And clearing a drawer for you is the highlight of my day. And every little thing I learn about you is like discovered treasure. Cleo. And the Jacuzzi. And how much you like creamer. The sound of your purr. That you can cook. That I can make you laugh. You made me happy. And being happy, I began to see my life clearer. Or, more to the point, take time to look at it at all. And I began to understand who I was when I wasn’t just existing. I love to dance. And I love my art. And I’m going to have a show. And now, I can dare to dream. Because I have what I need. I know who I am. And the thing that makes it safe is that I’m in love with a really great guy who also loves me.”

When she quit talking then, the nacho plate hit his nightstand half a second before he hit Hattie.

After a lot of kissing and the same amount of groping, he was tugging at her panties when she said breathily, “You need to save some stamina. I want to try the you-do-yours, I-do-mine porn thing tonight.”

Fuck, just that and he felt himself beading.

Christ, his girl.

“Quiet.”

He got her panties down over her feet, surged up, Hattie opening her legs as he did.