Her hand covers mine and I dip my head for a kiss. But I end the kiss because if I don’t, we’ll never get to the tattooing.
“Do you trust me to put it where I want?” I murmur against her lips.
“I trust you fully.” A tear slips from her eye and I wipe it away with my thumb.
How did we get here? How did my life change in a matter of months? She’s ingrained herself into my life and my being. There’s more transforming between us. I feel it, but I can’t describe it.
“Take off your shirt and sweatshirt,” I say.
She grabs the hem of both at the same time and tosses them over her head.
I reach across her chest and unhook her bra, kissing her one more time. “Lie on your left side.”
She follows my directions and I pull out the transparency I already did because I knew she loved the peony when she saw it weeks ago. I just had to find the balls to tell her I was drawing it for her before we were anything.
“I’m going to try to make this as painless as I can, but it’s your ribs, so just tell me if you need a break.”
She nods. I hook up my phone to the shop speakers through Bluetooth and hit Play on a playlist I put together. It’s sappy and romantic, but I’ve never been good with expressing my emotions with words, so I picked others to say them for me. “Bad Things” by Machine Gun Kelly comes through the speakers.
After putting on my gloves, I go to work as I would with any client—except her tits, out there on display, are more tempting. Maybe as long as I keep my eyes off of them, I’ll be okay.
Once I’m all prepared, I slide the stool over, allowing my body to be closer to her than I would another client. We’re not touching, but I’m hyper aware of her proximity. “I’m gonna start.”
At the first touch of the needle, she jolts.
“You sure?” I ask.
She nods. “I’m sure. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. If you—”
“I want it, Dylan. More than I’ve wanted anything. Well, except for you.”
Talk about a line that melts the damn heart. She has to feel what I have the last few weeks. The way her smile makes a shit day exponentially better. Waking up to her every morning fills me with happiness from the second I wake. Every day, all I think about is how to brighten her day. To let her know in a small way how much I care for her.
I press the machine back to her skin, and this time, she relaxes. The songs stream through the speakers as I move the needle along her skin. There might be silence between us, but it’s a comfortable silence. I’ll never forget this moment until the day I die.
“Don’t I have to heal afterward?”
“I’ll put some ointment on and cover it.”
“So you make this big romantic gesture with candles and a playlist of love songs, not to mention drawing a special tattoo just for me, and you won’t be able to have sex with me afterward? Seems a little torturous,” she says.
I wipe the tattoo and take the brief break to meet her gaze. “You underestimate my abilities again.”
“Oh, so I am getting lucky tonight?” She smiles wide.
I kiss her briefly. “Definitely. There’s always doggie.”
She chuckles. “I’d say hurry up, but it will be on me forever.”
The word forever catches me for a moment. Forever as in for life or eternity. Endless.
I have no idea what will happen with Rian and me. If she’ll wake up one day and decide she wants the responsible guy. But she’ll look at this artwork I’m inking every day and think of me.
I’m selfish enough to smile because it means I’ll be part of Rian forever.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rian
I lift my shirt for the millionth time in the past week to look at my tattoo. It’s a little crusty, but I can tell it’s going to be beautiful once it’s healed.
“You’re making me jealous. I wish Ethan was a tattoo artist so he could draw on me.” Blanca sips her wine.
We’re up on the rooftop, waiting for the guys to return from getting stuff for a barbeque. We made all the sides, but for some reason, it’s taking them forever to get the meat and alcohol.
“I think we should call the police.” Sierra inspects her nails. “I’m starving.”
“Knox is the police,” I say, dropping my shirt and sitting down at the table with them.
“Do you think Ethan would be jealous if I asked Dylan or Jax to draw me something?” Blanca asks, scrolling through her phone.
Sierra and I exchange a look.
“Um… yeah,” I say.
Blanca purses her lips and nods. “I figured.”
My phone rings and it’s a number I don’t recognize, so I send it to voicemail, and we continue talking about Adrian being in Sandsal again. Sierra’s worried that it’s never going to end and there will always be a reason for him to be out there. Then she’ll have to choose to leave her job in order to be with him.
My phone dings to alert me that I have a voicemail, so I excuse myself and walk to the other side of the roof to listen.
“Hello, Miss Wright. This is Dr. Ted Quinton with NASA. I understand from Dr. Giroux that you’re the one who solved the problem in the contest his organization hosted. I’m very impressed and wanted to discuss the possibility of you coming to work for NASA. Please give me a call back so we can discuss further. Have a good night.”
I hold the phone to my chest for a second then quickly dial back because this has to be a prank. What does NASA want with a math textbook writer?
“Miss Wright,” he answers on the first ring.
“Um… hi, Dr. Quinton?”
“Yes, I’m so happy you called me back.”
“Are you really with NASA?”
He chuckles. “I am.” There’s a pause. “I’m a good friend of Dr. Giroux and helped him make up that problem with the hopes we’d find a new recruit. It’s an entry-level position, but we’re always looking for new talent. I’d love to schedule a video call to talk more about it.”
“You don’t even know me,” I say, still a little stunned that I’m actually talking to someone from NASA.
He chuckles again. “Rarely do we hear people questioning why we might offer them a job.”
“I’m just surprised. I thought it was just the monetary prize. I had no idea it had anything to do with NASA.”
“It didn’t. But I always have my eye out for new talent. I understand you’ve been working at Pierson since graduation?”
“Exactly, so why would you want me?”
“Well, sometimes you find talent where you least expect to. It’s why we like such contests. We find people like you.”
“And where exactly is the job?” I ask.
“Houston. Is that a problem?”
My stomach drops and I grip the phone harder. “Um, no.” Dylan’s face flashes to mind.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll have my assistant send you some paperwork that outlines the position and if you’re interested we can chat a bit more then arrange a flight and stay for some time next week. I can show you what we have to offer.”