A Brush with Love(70)

“So what’s the story?” he asked, his finger returning to its tracing. “Why the canine?”

Harper arched an eyebrow at him. “Dental anatomy’s going well, huh?”

Dan laughed but his eyes urged her on. She took a deep breath.

“It’s a copy of the first anatomical drawing of a maxillary canine. I got it when I was accepted to dental school.” She chewed on her lip, remembering the day. “I never planned on getting one. But when I got the call from Callowhill and it felt so huge and special and surreal, I needed to do something just as monumental to remember it.”

She closed her eyes and a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she remembered hanging up the phone and looking around her as if the world had just opened the door to its secrets. She’d felt the urge to dance and run—scream out with the overwhelming happiness that threatened to burst straight from her chest. The first coherent thought she’d had was that she wished she could tell her mom.

She’d indulged an impulse for the first time that day, celebrating the rewards of her careful planning with a poorly thought-out permanent reminder.

“I found the closest tattoo shop, walked in, and got it.” She shrugged and opened her eyes. Dan stared at her intently. Moments from their night together popped through her mind: the hunger in the way he looked at her when they came together, his touch turning from gentle to greedy, the feel of his tongue, body, hands, against her skin. Heat flooded her cheeks.

“Why that tooth, though?” he asked gently, looking at Harper like she was the most fascinating person in the world. A foreign feeling danced in her chest from his attention, and she worked to place it.

Valued.

The way he looked at her made her feel valued. Interesting. Adored.

She wanted to wake up always feeling this way.

“I’m not sure,” she said at last. “The canines have always been my favorite. There’s something sharp and strong about them … I guess that’s how I wanted to feel. What I wanted to be in this phase.”

She blew out a breath, searching Dan’s face, looking for a sign that would tell her how much more she should give. His green eyes were soaking her in, drawing out bits and pieces of her before she could even grasp that she was willingly handing them over.

“It also has the longest root,” she continued. “I was kind of desperate to feel rooted too, I think. After my mom passed, my aunt and uncle took me in—they’ve always been so good to me—but being twelve and having them become my caretakers overnight left me feeling a little … disjointed. I felt like things could tip at any point and I’d have to start over again.”

Dan observed her a moment longer, and she could almost see the questions he wanted to ask sitting on the tip of his tongue as he wet his lips, but she knew he wouldn’t push. Harper couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she’d started trusting Dan—whether it had been a specific smile, or one of the precious times he’d dropped his forehead to hers and laughed, or if he’d made a slow, steady invasion into her heart that now felt like it had an entire chamber dedicated to him—but she trusted him in a foreign, overwhelming way. It was the most comforting thing she’d found in a long time.

She pushed up to sitting, needing to break the intimacy of the moment before it broke her.

His flannel shirt was lying on the floor and she reached for it, sliding it over herself and enjoying the initial coolness of the fabric against her skin.

She reached for her phone and plopped back onto her pillows, aware of the drowsiness returning to Dan’s breathing.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled against her shoulder.

“I’m looking for a song.”

“A song for what?”

“To play,” she said dryly.

He fixed her with a dull look, slow-blinking at her sarcasm to let her know he wasn’t amused.

“It looked like you were about to fall back asleep, and I wanted to drown out your snoring.” Harper’s lips twitched but she otherwise kept a straight face.

Dan propped himself up on his elbow and hovered over her with a wolfish smile.

“I don’t snore. And if you aren’t careful, I’ll have to force it out of you. What’s the song for?”

“Yeah?” Harper cocked an eyebrow. “I’m terrified.”

Dan’s eyes held a predatory glint as he stared at her mouth. A nervous giggle bubbled from her throat, and the noise set off his attack.

He pounced on her, squeezing and tickling her sides. Squealing and flailing, she worked to move out from under him, but she was helpless against his big, teasing hands.

“You—asshole,” she managed to choke out between gasps. She pounded her small fists against him, but Dan just laughed and nipped at her neck. He shifted his position and plucked the phone from her hand, switching up tactics.

“You’re evil.” Harper rolled from under him and lunged for her phone, but he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her back with a laugh. “And annoying,” she said, pushing herself back up.

Dan lay on his back laughing and holding her phone toward the ceiling. She scrambled over his body to reach for it, making sure to dig her knees into his ribs as hard as possible. Dan shifted again, pinning her to the bed.

“I’ll ask you one more time.” He scratched his stubble against her neck, making her squeal. “What’s the song for?”