Eyes Turned Skyward

“I don’t want the wires or the limits, not when there’s another option. It just feels wrong.” I enunciated each word but kept my voice soft. She was about to blow, I saw it coming, but I didn’t need to add to it, despite hot, painful anger that coursed through my veins, begging to be let loose on the crap hand I’d been dealt.

“Well, it’s a hell of a lot better than cracking open your chest for heart surgery! For the love of God, were you not listening? You could die!” Her voice rose with every word until she was screaming. She slammed her hands down on the counter, shaking the napkin holder.

“Wake up, Morgan, I am dying. My heart is going to fail just like hers did!”

“Then suck it up and make the safe choice! None of us want to lose you because you feel like living with a pacemaker isn’t good enough for you!”

That stung but still didn’t quell the fire raging through me. Mama, Daddy, Will, Morgan… Why couldn’t I make them all understand?

“God, I miss being normal! I can’t run, or go dancing like a twenty-year-old should, or do a million other things I want to do, have dreamed of doing. I have parents who look at me like I’m going to drop dead on the floor at any minute, which is a distinct possibility, and a boyfriend who barely makes love to me. He won’t give me an orgasm because he’s terrified, no matter how many times I tell him it’s okay! To be honest, I have to beg him to touch me, and if he does, which is maybe once a month, his eyes aren’t locked on mine, no, they’re on this darn watch!” I lifted my wrist. “I’ve got everyone telling me to get a pacemaker at twenty, to not only accept all of this as my life, but to be grateful, because my sister didn’t get it. Grateful!”

Her shoulders drooped like the fight fell right out of her, but I couldn’t stop the words flying out of my mouth.

“I don’t know what I want yet, but I know that there’s a fine line between being a respectful daughter and trying to make up for them losing Peyton. Maybe I want to take the chance that I could have a normal life. Maybe it’s my chance to follow my instincts when they’re screaming that a pacemaker isn’t what my body needs. Maybe I deserve to think about every maybe before they slice me open and sentence me to a life I didn’t choose because I was too weak and respectful to say no. And maybe, just maybe I need you on my side!” My voice broke, like even it couldn’t handle the sheer longing within me.

She hugged me tight, her tears soaking into my shirt. “Oh, Paisley.”

I took gulping breaths. “Be on my side, because no one else is.”

Chapter Ten

Paisley

11. Get inked.

It was now or never.

Will was preoccupied with studying. I couldn’t blame him—he wanted to be top of the class, and there was someone giving him a run for his money. He pulled out his flashcard 5&9s to study, and I pulled out my car keys and left him to it.

Jagger would understand, right? He had five of the things. He would help me. Besides, he’d been in and out, prepping the renovation yesterday, and I hadn’t managed a single moment alone with him. I missed my friend.

Oh, how you love to validate your reasoning.

Lucy was huge, yellow, and impossible to miss. I parked in front of his mailbox and picked my way across the newly aerated grass. Huh. The flowerbeds were freshly weeded, too.

Nerves tied my stomach into knots. Maybe I should have texted first? But I was here now, so I knocked, and Masters opened the door five heartbeats later. “Is Jagger around?”

“Hey, Paisley. Come on in.” Odd how I liked someone I’d never seen smile, but I did.

The door opened directly to the living room, which was immaculately clean for a guys’ house. Well, except for the giant bags along the dining room wall. They stood vertically like luggage, but had a weird, trapezoid-like shape to them. Hockey sticks leaned on them, so I figured the rest of that kind of gear had to be lurking in there.

“Paisley?” Jagger’s voice triggered butterflies.

“Hockey?” I pointed toward the bags without meeting his eyes. Why had I done this? What was Will going to think when I showed him what I’d done?

“Yeah. Josh and I used to play in college.” My eyebrows shot up. “Why so shocked?”

“Hockey just isn’t a sport you hear a lot about around here. Were you any good?”

“Yeah. I mean, Josh was better. Is better. But most college guys don’t go on to the NHL or anything.”

“You still play?”

He moved in front of me, so I had to look up at him or stare at the logo on his shirt. I looked up and immediately regretted it. His eyes drew me in, made me forget things I had no business forgetting. “Pickup in Montgomery when we get the chance. Paisley, you’re not here to talk hockey. I’m glad to see you, but what’s going on?”

I swallowed. “If I wanted to do something considered a little crazy, would you help me?”

He crossed his arms in front of him, his ink peeking out of his shirtsleeves. “Define crazy.”

“I want a tattoo.”

His eyes flew wide. “Seriously?”

“I just said it, didn’t I?” Okay, so the tremors in my voice gave me away. I wasn’t pulling off fearless very well.

“Is this on your list?”

Was he laughing at me? “As a matter of fact, it is, which is really none of your business. My only question is if you want to come with me.”