Liquid Feels - Book 3 - DP Series - Complete

5. Kiss-N-Split

We decide to meet at the campus coffee shop but the smack of roasted coffee beans to my senses is enough to make me heave. Ordering a hot chocolate heaped with whipped cream and cinnamon definitely lightens my mood. When I spot Seth, head bent over sheets of paper spread across his table, all my senses evaporate. I'm aware of nothing but the aching pound in my chest.

"Hey," I greet, sliding in the booth across from him.

He glances up, pushing his long sleeves up to his forearms to reveal the tattoos painted on his skin. They're confusing. Some are soft and gentle—almost feminine—while others are harsh, angry, and maybe even a little twisted. Those are the ones that scare me. The ones that tell me he's had a dark past and it weaves deep into who he is. One color, thousands of shades, mapped out to create an entire story. He's a tapestry of scars and blood and shadows, interwoven with beauty and goodness and light.

The mysteries inked into his flesh feel foreign and far away. They don't belong to the guy I know... but maybe I don't really know him. I don't like to think about his unknowns. I like the soft tattoos. The ones that speak of hope and new beginnings.

For someone who is so concrete and mysterious, it's nice to picture him with a tender side. The kind of guy who'd spend hours immersed in the imaginative world of a child, or who would weed the garden with his mom just for the joy of conversation. The type of guy who'd park along the shoulder of the road to watch a sunset, or who's not afraid to admit when he's lonely or scared or in love.

But maybe he's not that guy.

I wouldn't know, because I don't really know him. And yet, I'm so into him that I have to wonder if I've lost all sensibility. Is Seth really as safe as my mind has made him up to be?

"Mercy. Hey." His greeting feels limp and I take the brief moment while he shuffles his pages into a neat stack to observe just how tired he looks.

"You okay?" I find myself asking, leaning down to get a better view of his face. His eyes meet mine and his brows furrow in question.

"Yeah." He sounds unsure, but maybe he's just startled by my observation.

"You just look like you've been working yourself hard."

"Naw." He shakes his head and takes in a deep breath. "My mom's in town and wants to meet up."

"Oh," I smile, nodding. "Sounds terrible."

He leans back in his seat, one hand still fiddling with his pen. "You have no idea." He removes his baseball cap, ruffles his dark hair around a bit, and then slides it back on.

His green eyes meet mine, almost challenging me to pry... and so, of course, I do.

"I'm listening," I tell him, propping my chin in my palm and offering a cheeky smile.

He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head in mild amusement before glancing over at his phone when a message lights up the screen. The smile slowly drops from his lips and, as if by habit, he gently flips the phone over to hide the screen.

"Another time," he mutters, leaning back and crossing his arms.

I don't know if he means it's a conversation for another time, or if he was speaking indirectly to whoever messaged him, but either way, I consider the subject dropped. Even I have limits and the stiffness in his jaw and rigid set of his shoulders convinces me to let it go.

"So did you just wanna see my pretty face, or was there a reason for this meet-up?"

He doesn't laugh at my question, but he nods and I can sense the tension melt away from him.