Again (Brandy Jeffus)

to describe the type of relationship we have. Let's quit being serious okay? I've had enough serious moments the last few weeks to last a lifetime."
    At that instant, we pull up to the house. Eli really did fix it up; the roof, the porch everything. There’s an addition to side, as if an extra room has been built. A boat sits off to the side as well as the old gray '88 Chevy Eli used to drive in high school. It’s a bit more rusted than I remember.
    "Gaw, you still have that Chevy? I'm surprised it hasn't bit the dust yet!" I exclaim, climbing out of the cruiser. We walk up the driveway onto the porch.
    "Be nice, you'll hurt her feelings. She may be old, but she's reliable," Eli unlocks and opens the door and I step in. I’m blown away by how different everything looks. The place has been modernized with electronic gadgets and a big flat screen TV. The couches are different and the walls have been painted.
    It looks and feels like home. It feels like Eli.
    "Let me change quickly and we can go," Eli calls as he heads down the hallway to the back bedroom. "Make yourself at home. I'll be really quick."
    I quietly walk down the hallway after him, looking at pictures on the wall. There are framed pictures of his family, some old that I recognize and some newer. At the very end of the hall, I recognize a piece of art hanging in a very expensive looking frame.
    It’s the cover art I had drawn for Mick's band's CD. I reach up and trace my initials at the far left corner: BMJ. It’s surreal seeing it framed on Eli’s wall. He’s pass by this every day for the last few years. And I had no idea.
    "Hey, if you want, and don't mind, I could pick some stuff up to cook dinner tonight. I'm not that bad of a cook," Eli interrupts my thoughts and comes out of his room. He stops suddenly to keep from running into me.
    I look up and notice he isn't wearing a shirt, just a pair of shorts. My mind goes blank as I stare at his chest. It’s beautiful, a complete masterpiece of perfection.
    "Why do you have this?" I ask after hesitating for a split second, tapping the glass.
    He grins and his cheeks redden. "Well it's not cause I like the band. To be honest I think they suck."
    He walks past me into the living room and picks up a shirt from the chair. He comes to stand by me and he’s so close I can smell the body soap he just used. I look up at him.
    "I always thought it was neat. And in that upper far right side, you can make out a man's face. I always hoped that it was me. That I was still in here,” he taps his temple, “You have crazy epic talent. I liked the thought of having a piece of you inside my house," he finished.
    I turn my body to him and once again I’m awestruck at how beautiful he is. He was always attractive, but turning into a man has done him well. There’s a tattoo above his heart, something in a different language. I reach up and lightly touched it.
    "What does it say?" His heart thuds rapidly underneath my fingertips.
    "In French, ‘I have found the one whom my soul loves, ‘Song of Solomon 3:4’.” Eli whispers back. He closes his eyes and places his hand over mine. His hand is warm, his grip so soft.
    "There's another here," he points to his inner left arm. "That says, ‘Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away,’ Song of Solomon 8: 7." He meets my gaze, "I got them for you. I'm sorry; I know that seems creepy, especially having your artwork framed in my hallway. I swear I’m not your stalker.”
    "Shh," I command quietly. I take his hands and lead him to his room. I stop in front of his bed and take my shirt off. My breathing is fast and I look up in his eyes with tears in mine... I turn around so he can see the right side of my ribcage. My tattoo is there, another phrase but in English, so he knows what it reads immediately.
    “‘All beautiful you are, my darling; there is no flaw in you. Song of Solomon 4:7’," he reads aloud. His voice is low and makes my stomach flutter. All around us I can practically feel the electricity coming from us.
    "That one is for you," I whisper before I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. His full lips are sweet and fit perfectly over mine. He pulls away after a minute, his green eyes lock on mine and I nod. He starts slowly pulling his shorts down.
    "Is this okay, Bonnie? I don't want to rush things." He looks so uncertain standing in his boxer briefs, so unsure of himself.
    My smile is wide, "I haven't done anything so right, in a