Trent merged onto the interstate. “You want to stop and see your Dad? Talk this through with him?”
I glanced over at him. “Are you sure?”
He smirked. “I brought my guitar for a reason.”
“You're tricky, you know that?” I said, smacking his arm. “Are you going to sing him Sleeping with Sirens?”
He nodded, leaning forward as he laughed. “Hey, if I'm James Dean, you're Audrey Hepburn.”
“You'll need to take the next exit,” I said. “And my Dad knows SWS, so you'll get to sing that.”
He used his left hand to lower the classic sunglasses he put on his face and smiled at me. I snapped the shot before he could move and looked down at the picture.
“Finally,” I commented as I looked down at it.
“Finally what?” he asked as he downshifted off the interstate.
“Captured you're beautiful tattoo in a picture,” I commented, turning the camera so he could see it.
I watched him pale and his throat move up and down as he looked away. “Which way?” he asked, coughing.
“Left,” I replied, still watching him. “What's wrong?”
He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Is that it up there?”
I nodded, waiting for him to answer, but he kept driving in silence. When we pulled into the parking lot he turned the car off, and dropped his head between his shoulders as he flipped his arms in his lap.
“I should've brought a sweatshirt,” he muttered, and I put my hand over his arm, covering the rising sun above the fish.
“It's over a hundred degrees and you should've brought a sweatshirt?” I repeated.
“So I could cover them.”
His eyes finally met mine, and despite the dark sunglasses I knew they were locked on mine.
“They're beautiful, why would you ever cover them?”
He leaned forward, placing his forehead against mine. “I just want your dad to like me.”
I pulled his sunglasses off, putting my hands on either side of his face. “He will. It wouldn't matter if you had a tattoo on your face...although, that would be awful.”
Trent laughed, his fingers slipping up and pulling my own sunglasses off. His gaze moved from my lips up to my eyes. “Thank you.”
I shook my head, leaning forward and kissing him. “Thank you...for being you.”
“I could say the same to you,” he whispered before kissing me again.
I wanted to lose myself in the feeling of his lips against mine, but I was distinctly aware of the fact we were in a convertible in a parking lot, and pretty much everyone could see us making out. I pulled away blushing. “You make it extremely hard to be upset.”
Trent cocked his head at me. “It's the hair, isn't it?”
I shook my head as I pursed my lips to keep from smiling. I gave up as I handed him the item that completed he look. “It's the sunglasses.”
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