Chapter 4
LAINEY
THREE YEARS AFTER THE CRASH
“Goddamn!” Luca winces as Jensen pokes the needle into his arm.
Jensen giggles and continues the home tattoo, dipping the needle in ink before pushing it into Luca’s skin. “If you stay still and relax, it won’t hurt as bad.”
“Tell me again, why didn’t we just go to an actual tattoo parlor?”
Jensen smiles proudly. “Because this is more memorable.”
Luca looks at him like he’s stupid, but eventually, his face relaxes as he accepts his fate. “You could be gentler. I know damn well you weren’t going this hard when you did Lain’s,” Luca complains, whining.
I can’t help but laugh, knowing that I didn’t complain more than once while Jensen did my tattoo a few minutes ago.
“Oh, Lain, shut it,” Luca scoffs, yelping as the needle pricks him again, his body twitching on the couch. “How much longer?”
“I’ve barely done anything. We're just getting started, tough guy,” Jensen, a very amateur basement tattoo artist—with this being his only experience—says snarkily.
Luca groans.
My gaze falls to the whale shark outline on my wrist—the permanent mark of our friendship. My heart pangs. This tattoo is the same one Carly had on her forearm and now we all match.
Jensen. Luca. Carly. Me. Forever best friends.
It doesn’t matter if one day, we aren’t as close as we are now. Jensen and Luca are about to graduate high school next week, and they’re getting ready to head to the AHL together. Everything’s about to change between the three of us, and this is our way to stay connected forever.
Jensen continues to torture Luca as he closes the outline of the whale shark. When he finishes, he wipes it clean and bandages it up. If he wasn’t so good at hockey, I’d say he should be a tattoo artist—maybe with the proper tools though.
I don’t think I’d let him—or anyone—give me a tattoo with a single needle ever again. But this is how Carly gave herself the tattoo in her bedroom, so this was the only way we were going to do ours.
Jensen exhales with pride as he leans back and admires his work on all three of us. “They look pretty good if you ask me.”
“Bro, it looks fucking sick.” Luca admires his new ink and his first tattoo, flexing his biceps so hard that I worry he’ll shit himself.
“Thank you,” I murmur, in awe of the pretty, dainty tattoo on my wrist. “It really does look amazing.”
“Thanks, Lain.” Jensen hums his gratitude, his hooded eyes flicking up to mine.
His stare lingers on mine as Luca admires his ink in the floor-length mirror. His gaze softens, an almost-painful longing in his dark brown orbs.
“All right, Jensy, are you ready to go?” Luca asks him, and my heart sinks.
I knew those two would be leaving for a party after our tattoo session, but that doesn’t make it sting any less that girls are going to be throwing themselves at Jensen for the next couple of hours.
I do my best to force the jealousy away. Jensen and I are just friends, and that’s all we can be. I know that, but, fuck, that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
“Yeah, I’m just going to clean this up quickly. I can meet you there if you want,” Jensen offers, his gaze whips my way, and my heart skips a beat.
Luca clicks his tongue. “I’m going to go change anyway, so you’ve got a few. I’ll meet you in the car.” He walks to the stairs and climbs them to the first floor and the second to his room.
I can feel Jensen’s presence like my being is connected to his, my skin vibrating, every hair standing on end. Get it together, Lainey.
Jensen starts cleaning his makeshift tattoo table up, gathering all of the garbage in a plastic bag.
“Are you just going to stare or give me a hand?” His lips kick up, his gaze remaining on the task at hand.
I scoff. “It seems like you have it under control.”
A darkness drifts over him. “About the only thing I do have under control.”
I stand up from the couch and walk over to him, disagreeing with his statement the whole way. “What are you talking about? You’ve got everything figured out.”
He leans back in the office chair he rolled out of my mom’s office down here. “Like what?”
Maybe he just needs to hear it to feel a bit better. “You’re graduating high school. You have a 4.0 GPA. You were signed to the Milwaukee Warriors at eighteen with a straight path to the pros. That sounds pretty in control to me.”
He rolls his eyes, as if his dreams coming true aren’t enough. “And what about you? Luca and I are about to leave, and you’ll be all alone.”
I chuckle. “I do have friends outside of you two, you know.”
His gaze falls to my fiddling hands, and he reaches out, grabbing my freshly tattooed wrist. “Friends that you share tattoos with? Nope. Because this was your first one.”
“You don’t know that,” I challenge him, and his eyes flick back up to mine. “I could have fifty hidden beneath my clothes right now.”
“I’d have seen them. I’d have heard about them at least. You can’t keep a secret from me if you try.” He sits up taller, his finger gently circling around the ink.
Okay, he may be right about that, but still.
“You don’t know everything about me, Jensen Donnelley.”
“I know that if you had another tattoo on your body, I would’ve noticed it.” His voice is heavy and weighted, like a blanket pressing against my chest. His eyes darken. “Trust me.”
Oh God, he cannot say things like that. Not when we’re us and he’s leaving.
My gaze falls to the floor, and he tugs my hand forward, pulling my body along with him until I’m positioned between his legs. “I’m going to miss you, Lainey.”
My eyes burn, and I avoid his gaze, wiggling my nose to fight the tears. “I’m going to miss you more.”
“Impossible,” he murmurs, bringing my knuckles up to his lips and kissing them softly.
My mind melts, my heart going into overdrive as those plump, full lips press against my fingers once more.
“JD, hurry the fuck up!” Luca shouts from the main level, again trying to ruin my life.
Reality sinks in around us, and I pull away from Jensen, who stands up and grabs the garbage bag.
“I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yeah,” I murmur, fighting the tears that I know will come the moment he’s gone.
Moments are all Jensen and I have—and all we’ll ever have. A moment of lust, or longing, or love. A moment as fleeting as life itself. Maybe one day, we can have a moment more.