Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
“T ake off my underwear?” Nola stared at Nix, real panic curling at her edges.
“Yes,” Nix said patiently. “If you want the tattoo on the front of your hip, you’ll need to remove everything from the waist down.”
Nola perched on the side of the tattoo bed, staring wide-eyed at Nix. She’d been prepared to remove her skirt and tights, but she hadn’t expected to remove her underwear.
She sucked in a breath, giving Nix a shaky smile. “I, um, I thought maybe I could just hold them out of the way.”
Nix shook his head. “I need space to tattoo, and I can’t have your hand or clothing in the way.”
“But,” she glanced around the shop, “anyone could come in and see me half…”
She trailed off, mortified that she couldn’t even say the word naked in front of Nix.
Nix pointed to the curtain hanging from a track in the ceiling. “I’ll pull the curtain around us, and you’ll have a paper sheet covering the area that I’m not tattooing.”
Her face was so red that she was sure people walking by the store would see it beckoning to them like a beacon.
“You could put the tattoo somewhere else.” Nix picked up the stencil he’d created. “This is a good size for your calf or forearm.”
That was an impossible solution, but before she could say anything, Nix said, “But I’m guessing you want the tattoo to be easily hidden.”
“Yes,” she said, wishing she didn’t sound quite so pathetic.
Nix didn’t reply, staring silently at her as she warred internally with the decision about whether she could strip half-naked in front of a man.
In front of a man or in front of this man? Because you’re conveniently forgetting that you’ve been naked in front of Abraham multiple times.
Sure, but that was different. Abraham was her boyfriend and not….
Not nearly as handsome as Nix?
No, no, that wasn’t at all what she was thinking. Abraham was… cute. What she’d been thinking was that he wasn’t as intimidating as Nix. Abraham was gentle and calm and would never punch someone in the face.
Nix punched the guy because he was trying to kidnap you, Nola. Have you forgotten that?
She’d been lost in her thoughts for nearly two minutes, and she needed to make a damn decision. Nix was kind enough to tattoo her last minute, and here she was, being a big baby about nothing. Nix saw plenty of bodies when he was tattooing, she was sure of it, and her nakedness wouldn’t even be a blip on his radar.
She wanted a tattoo, and, more importantly, she wanted that dove tattoo. It was exactly what she had pictured in her head, and she knew how lucky she was to find the perfect tattoo from flash art.
She could do this. She hoped.
“Okay,” she said before she could chicken out.
Nix stood up from the rolling stool and pulled the curtain around the tattoo station. He placed a folded paper cover on the bed beside her and pointed to a second rolling stool next to the bed. “You can place your clothes and purse on that stool. Just say my name when you’re ready. Okay?”
She nodded, her throat too tight for her to speak. Nix left, and her hands shaking, she quickly stripped off her thick tights and long skirt, folded them neatly and placed them on the stool with her purse. With another glance at the curtain, she removed her underwear and hid it under her skirt before lying on the bed and covering her lower half with the crinkly paper sheet.
Her heart pounding, she said, “I’m ready, Nix.”
He pulled open the curtain and joined her, drawing it closed behind him. Nola tried not to think about how intimate it felt to be with Nix here in the small, hidden space as she stared at the ceiling.
She listened to the sounds of Nix preparing his station, nodded when he showed her the brand new needle in its wrapping and tried to keep her breath more ‘perfectly calm cat’ and less ‘panting buffalo.’
“Tattoo on your left hip, correct?” Nix asked as he sat on the stool and rolled it close to the bed.
“Yes,” she said, her fingers tightening on the paper sheet.
“I need you to move the sheet so it exposes your left hip,” Nix said, his voice brisk and professional. “If you’re comfortable with exposing your left leg, that will make it a little easier for me, but it’s not necessary to move it from your leg.”
“Uh, no, that’s fine,” she said.
She took another deep breath and carefully shifted the sheet over until her left leg was clear of the paper. Then, hoping Nix didn’t see how badly her hands shook, she moved the top half of the sheet until her hip was exposed. She kept her right hand pressed firmly against her crotch, keeping the sheet tight against it. She didn’t think her hand would be in the way, but even if it were, Nix would have to work around it. She wasn’t risking the sheet pulling up or falling off and exposing her to Nix.
“Perfect,” Nix said. “Can you put your left arm above your waist?”
“Yes.” She tucked her left arm under her head, staring at Nix as he carefully placed the stencil on her skin. He peeled it away and studied her hip for a moment before grabbing a hand mirror and angling it so she could see it.
“What do you think of placement?”
“Perfect,” she said.
“Do you want to stand up so you can see how it looks?” he asked.
“No,” she said hurriedly before he could roll his stool back.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes, I think it looks great,” she said. She couldn’t imagine trying to stand and keep the stiff paper sheet covering all her bits while Nix watched. Nope, that was asking too much of her frayed nerves.
Nix picked up the tattoo gun. “Let me know if you need me to stop, all right? If it hurts to the point that you need a break, it’s fine to ask for one.”
“Okay,” she said.
“The tattoo won’t take long, but if you need to reposition, let me know first,” he said. “It’s important that you hold completely still while I’m tattooing.”
“I won’t move,” she said.
“Good. Here we go,” he said. He pressed a button on his phone, and music drifted from a small speaker on a rolling cart that also held a sharps container and a package of gauze.
A smile crossed her face, and Nix said, “What?”
“You’re a Taylor Swift fan?” she asked.
“I like all sorts of different music,” he said. “I can change it if you prefer.”
“No, I… I love Taylor Swift. I just didn’t think you would be a Swiftie,” she said.
That got her another one of those oh-so-pretty smiles, and her pulse thudded in her ears as a not entirely unpleasant tingling began in her lower pelvis.
He snapped on some gloves and bent over her hip. She stared at the top of his dark head as the buzz of the tattoo gun started. He touched it to her skin and did a few seconds of tattooing before stopping and staring at her. “You good?”
“Yes,” she said. “It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought.”
He nodded and bent over her hip again. She watched him work, fascinated by the look of concentration on his face and the steady, confident movement of his hand as he tattooed her.
Forty minutes later, she’d been lulled into a state of relaxation by the music, the sound of the tattoo gun, and Nix’s rhythmic motion of tattooing and wiping her skin clear.
When he shut off the gun and gave her skin one final wipe, she was almost disappointed. For the first time in months, she’d been entirely at ease and not plagued by any of her usual anxiety. She could have sat there for hours, studying Nix and feeling the sharp bite against her skin as he moved the tattoo gun over her flesh.
Nix set down the tattoo gun, turned off the music, and picked up the hand mirror. He angled it over her hip again, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the tattoo.
“It’s so beautiful.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I love it.”
“Yeah?” Nix gave her a pleased look before wiping the tattoo again. “It’s red right now, and your skin is a bit swollen, but it’ll look even better once it’s healed.”
“I think it’s perfect,” she said.
“Good. I’m glad you like it.”
“Not just like. Love,” she said happily.
When Nix set down the mirror, she sat up a little, staring again at the tattoo, not ready to stop looking at it. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”
He cleaned it again before placing a sticky clear bandage over it. “This is called SecondSkin. It’ll help protect the tattoo as it heals. Keep it on for the next seven days. You can shower or bathe with it on. All right?”
She nodded, still staring happily at the tattoo as Nix threw the needle into the sharps container. He paused a beat before saying, “What made you decide to choose a dove?”
“Well, it’s the most beautiful dove I’ve ever seen,” she said, “and to me it symbolizes…”
“What?” he asked.
“Freedom,” she said. “How she can fly away and go wherever she wants, be whoever she wants to be, without anyone judging her or making her feel bad or…”
She stopped, feeling the traitorous blush rising in her skin as she smiled uncomfortably at Nix. “It really is so beautiful, and you’re a very talented artist.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said. “I love it so much, I really do, and I can’t believe I finally have a tattoo. I’ve wanted one for so long. And I was surprised at how… relaxing it was. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as I thought it might. I already want another one.”
“Careful,” he said with a slight grin, “or you’ll end up as tattooed as me.”
She laughed, studying the tattoos on his arms. “I’m not sure I could pull off the sleeve tattoos as well as you do.”
“How will you know if you don’t try?” he said with another one of those - oh god, parts of her were definitely tingling now - grin.
Before she could reply, the bell jingled over the door, and Nix glanced at his watch. “That’s my next appointment.”
“Right,” she said. “Thank you for tattooing me on such short notice.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
He stared at her like maybe he was going to say something else before he stood abruptly. “Just pull the curtain back when you’re dressed.”
“Okay,” she said, clutching the paper sheet against her body as Nix ducked behind the curtain.
She could hear him greeting his next client, and she stared at her tattoo again before sliding off the bed. Nix hadn’t looked once at her bare leg or even acted like he knew she was half-naked under the thin paper sheet.
Why would he? You’re not his type, Nola. Just because he’s nice to you doesn’t mean he’s attracted to you.
She knew that. So, why was she feeling so disappointed?