7. Ella
Seven
Ella
End of Summer Break
A large hand covering my mouth. The cool wall was pressing against my front as a hard body was plastered against my back. Hot breath hitting the back of my neck. A raspy voice in the dark.
Fuck.
Not the right moment.
Heat began pooling between my legs, and considering I was in the process of getting fucking tattooed — on my thigh no less — there was no way to relieve the pressure coiling inside of me.
The memory kept haunting me, though, popping up at the most random times and slowly driving me insane.
I’d spent way too much time trying to figure out who the guy at the party a couple of weeks ago had been.
I never saw his face; I only felt the hard length of his body pressing me against the wall and short-circuiting my brain.
Though I had a hunch, entertaining this thought as often as I did was ridiculous and embarrassing.
Even if said hunch was right — for some insane reason — was I really ready to face what that meant?
I pushed the thought aside and tried to focus on the present: the buzz of the tattoo needle, the cool prick of the ink, and the odd intimacy of someone tracing patterns across my skin.
In a way, it was grounding and almost pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts about that night.
Logically, I knew why the lighting in tattoo shops was set up the way it was, but emotionally it made me want to claw my eyes out.
The buzz of the needles and the muted music flowed through the space as I lay on the bench with my eyes closed.
Yet somehow I could still feel the ungodly bright fluorescent light penetrating my fucking eyelids.
When Savannah, my artist, leaned back to examine her work in progress, I quickly adjusted my position, the paper rustling under my body.
“Ew,” I whined, as I literally had to peel it off my leg because my sweat had plastered the sheet against my skin.
“Try to not slide off, mhkay?” Savannah chuckled.
I snorted. “Rude.”
“No, honest,” she quipped, switching needles with quick, practiced movements.
“It’s hot.”
“The AC is fucking blasting. What the hell are you talking about?”
Chuckling, she set to work again, the needles scratching over my skin.
Oh joy, the shading had begun.
I puffed my cheeks, huffing out a breath. Definitely my least favorite part of getting tattooed.
With my eyes still closed, I let my thoughts wander until the buzzing of the needle and the heat in my body sent my mind spinning toward something dangerous.
The memory of the night at the party — the stranger pressing against me — kept surfacing.
Goddamn it.
Deciding my mind needed distracting, I opened my eyes abruptly and peered down at Savannah.
“Hey, do you mind if I call my friend?”
I wasn’t an inconsiderate asshole, after all.
“Nah, that’s fine. As long as you’re good with putting it on speaker? I can’t listen to a one-sided convo. That would drive me nuts.”
“No worries. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Considering it was only the two of us in here, I didn’t really give a fuck. Savannah was cool, and it wasn’t like I was shy. I grabbed my phone and tapped Hailey’s name.
For a split second, I felt a wave of relief. Distracting myself with her infectious energy was exactly what I needed.
It rang a couple of times before her cute little face popped up on screen, sunny and smug.
“Hi, babe!” she exclaimed.
My friend was lounging on some cozy-looking outdoor furniture in a bikini, and I just caught the barest glimpse of Colt in the background.
“Look at you! How’s life as a WAG?” I joked, waggling my eyebrows exaggeratedly.
Hailey rolled her eyes. “Stop. I’m not a WAG.”
I gave her a pointed look. “You so are!”
“Colt, help me out here.” She turned her head to look at him, eyebrows raised.
“As much as I love to give you anything you want, I have to agree with Ella here,” his low voice rumbled from the off.
“HA!” I exclaimed at the same time as Hailey exaggeratedly gasped, “Traitor!”
Her eyes were wide and her hand was clutched to her chest.
“Sorry, Princess. But if you’re not a WAG, that would mean we’re not together, so … definitely a WAG.”
I grinned. “Knew I could count on you, Big Daddy!”
“Don’t call him that,” Hailey groaned.
“No can do,” I sing-songed, swaying my head from left to right.
“You’re the worst.”
“You love me.”
Savannah snorted, making Hailey perk up.
“Wait, where are you?”
I flipped the camera so Hailey got a perfect shot of the ink being worked into my thigh.
“Ooooh, no fucking way! Another one? What are you getting?”
“Just a bunch of roses up high on my thigh.” I shrugged, flipping the camera back around to me.
“ Hot .” Hailey was fanning herself, making me giggle.
“This one’s for me, not for anyone else to see. Yet.”
I’d been adding tattoos gradually, each one carefully chosen.
At first, it was about feeling something — anything — good about myself after senior year, after the small-town judgment, after all the ways people had tried to shrink me down.
I’d always wanted tattoos, but I didn’t want to give anyone more reason to tear me apart back then. It took me a while to start feeling like I deserved my own skin.
Now, every piece has a purpose. The flowers embedded in mandala patterns twisting up my arm in fine lines not only made me feel badass but also undeniably feminine.
I wasn’t hiding anymore — not from the world and not from myself.
This was mine, my rebellion in ink, my quiet way of shutting out the outside voice and just doing something for me .
She widened her eyes, cocking her head. “Oh? Yet ? Do tell.”
I could feel traitorous heat crawling up my neck. “There’s nothing to tell.”
And there wasn’t. Not really. At least nothing that wouldn’t pretty much out me as delusional.
The buzz of the needle against my thigh was sharp, precise, and grounding, but my thoughts still wandered. The memory of the stranger pressing against me at the party kept creeping back into my mind.
I didn’t know who he was. Not really, since I’d never seen his face. He’d been all but a presence.
The weight, the pressure, the brief, impossible closeness — it had all felt deliberate and incredibly intimate.
Then a dangerous and ridiculous idea entered my mind.
What if it was Hunter?
It made no sense. He hated being touched. He avoided it.
Yet something about the memory whispered his name. The way he occupied space, the quiet strength I’d noticed before, the certainty in every movement — it could’ve been him. Probably wasn’t.
But maybe … maybe it was.
A reckless, secret part of me wanted it to be him. Wanted him to be the only person who’d ever see this tattoo, hidden high on my thigh.
This private rebellion for myself, a secret only belonging to me.
But it could belong to him, too.
“Okay. You’re being weird. What’s going on?”
I laughed, but it came out a little too high-pitched. Savannah gave a tiny snort, her eyes flicking up to me for a beat.
“I mean, technically , nothing. Define ‘going on.’ Like, emotionally? Spiritually? Biologically?”
Hailey leaned back with a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Ella. Stop dancing around. How’s your summer? Dating life ?”
I snorted. “Oh, you know. Same old disaster.”
Her brows shot up. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Oh yeah? First date, the guy spent the whole time talking about his ex. Second date, disappeared mid-walk in the park. Third date … oh, that one was special. He tried to fix my serve.”
Hailey’s eyes widened, a mix of horror and amusement. “What? No way. You’re not exaggerating?”
“Not even a little. I swear, I’m starting to think there’s a curse. Like every time I try to date, the universe just laughs at me.”
She giggled. “Oh, Ella. That’s tragic. And hilarious.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not funny. Well, maybe a little. But mostly it’s humiliating.”
Hailey grinned knowingly. “Sooo anyone worth mentioning? Or someone who didn’t make you want to fling your drink across the room?”
Against all reason, Hunter’s name kept popping into my head. It was totally unrealistic. Totally ridiculous. Hailey didn’t need to know that part.
“Uhh … maybe,” I said vaguely. “Mostly it’s been a lot of failed dates and getting ghosted. I mean, to be honest, there might be a little obsession with someone I probably shouldn’t even be thinking about, but–”
Hailey leaned closer, her face lighting up with curiosity. “Wait, what do you mean? Who?”
I laughed a little too nervously and shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just someone at the party. Totally random.”
Her brows rose. “Random, huh? You realize we know everyone who was there, right? Come on, spill.”
I smirked, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Some things are better left as secrets. It’s not even a thing.”
Of course, it was a thing.
“You’re lying. You never say ‘it’s not a thing’ unless it’s the biggest thing ever,” Hailey scoffed.
The corners of my mouth curled into a smirk. “Well. Then I guess it’s nothing and everything.”
She groaned in annoyance, even throwing her head back. “I hate when you do this.”
“Oh, yeah?” I raised a brow. “Says Miss ‘We’re not actually dating’?”
“Oooooh. Low blow! Fuck you.” She giggled, and I could make out Colt’s deep rumbling laugh in the background.
The buzzing of the tattoo machine was just background noise at this point. Laying back on the padded bench as the needle etched into my skin, I was holding my phone like I was taking a selfie.
“Okay,” Hailey was saying, squinting at the screen. “But you have to stop making it look fun. You make me want to get inked every time you do this.”
“You should,” I shot back, watching my own reflection as the artist worked on the design near my inner thigh. “Something small. Sexy. Maybe Colt’s name, right above your pussy.”
The sound Hailey made was half shriek, half laugh. “Hard pass. He’d lose his fucking mind. He’s already territorial enough.”
Colt’s voice cut in offscreen on her end. “Damn right, I would.”
I grinned even wider. “Colt, back me up. Wouldn’t that be romantic? Real ride-or-die branding.”
“Romantic is not the word I’d use.” He grunted.
Hailey covered her face with her hands. “I hate both of you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Girl, please. I’m the one half-naked in a stranger’s chair right now. You think I’ve got shame left?”
Savannah snorted from above my thigh again. “Seen worse. I once had a dude propose mid-sleeve. She said no. He cried. We finished the shading anyway.”
“Iconic behavior.” I cackled.
Hailey groaned, dragging a hand down her face.
“You’re gonna be banned from polite society.” She paused, then cocked her head to the side. “Okay, but real talk. If you had it your way, would you ever put a tattoo on a guy? Like, your dream man, inked exactly how you want?”
I blinked. “Tattoos on guys? Abso-fucking-lutely. I have a whole Pinterest board.”
“Oh, my God,” Hailey muttered.
Lifting my brows, I smirked. “Don’t judge me. Okay, top five? Thigh tats.”
She gave a slow blink. “Thigh?”
“Yeah. Right where your hand would go when you ride him,” I said without missing a beat.
Hailey sputtered. “COLT IS RIGHT HERE.”
Colt’s voice rang out from the off again. “She’s not wrong.”
“Thank you, Big Daddy,” I quipped.
Savannah didn’t miss a beat. “They do look good. Real estate for filth.”
“Jesus Christ,” Hailey groaned.
“Next up: ink on the V-line,” I continued, ticking it off on my fingers.
“You mean the—” My friend gestured vaguely toward her own pelvis.
Looking up at the ceiling, I sighed dreamily. “Mhm. Like it’s leading to trouble.”
“Bonus if it actually says ‘trouble,’” Savannah added. Hell yeah. She was invested now.
I chuckled. “Ooh, yeah. Trashy and perfect.”
Hailey just covered her eyes. “I can’t with you.”
“I’m not dooone,” I sang. “Spine tats. Gorgeous. Especially when they arch.”
Savannah hummed in agreement. “That’s some poetry right there.”
“Tattooed forearms,” I said, my voice dipping low. “Strong grip, flexing just a little when he rolls up his sleeves? Ugh. Criminal behavior.”
Even Savannah raised a brow at how greedy my voice sounded.
“Okay,” Hailey said, her voice climbing in pitch. “Are you in heat? Do I need to call animal control?”
My grin widened even more. “Not yet. But we haven’t even gotten to piercings.”
“Oh no,” Hailey whispered, burying her face in her hands.
I blinked innocently. “I think they’re hot. If done right.”
“Shit, I’m almost afraid to ask … piercings where?” she asked, peering through the gaps between her fingers.
“Where do you think, babe.”
Colt made a strangled sound in the background. “Nope. I’m out.”
Hailey’s face was bright red. “Don’t you dare say—”
“Jacob’s ladder,” I interjected triumphantly. “You know the one? Barbell rungs up the underside. Strategic placement. Maximum fucking impact.”
“Stop talking,” Hailey begged.
“Or a PA,” I added, purely to be evil. “Prince Albert. Straight through the tip. It’s giving ‘I’m here for you, baby girl.’”
Savannah snorted. “It’s giving antibiotics if you’re not careful.”
Sucking my teeth, I nodded solemnly. “Safe healing practices. But still, respect for any man willing to endure this pain for pleasure.”
Hailey had gone back to fully hiding behind her hands.
“It’s the commitment for me,” I admitted with another dreamy sigh. “Like, ‘I bled for you.’ Literal blood offering. That’s romance.”
Hailey peeked through her fingers again. “You’re a menace.”
Savannah peered up at me again, dry as ever. “You’re lucky, you’re cute. Your mouth should be illegal.”
“Tell my exes.” I beamed.
“On that note, I’ve got to go.” Hailey giggled.
Since Savannah was almost done anyway, I didn’t complain.
“I’ll send you a picture once it’s done.” I promised.
“You better!”
Once Savannah had added the finishing touches, she cleaned it, and I hopped off the bench to admire it in the floor-length mirror.
“Oh my God, I fucking love it! Thank you so much.” I beamed at her.
Savannah was standing off to the side, smiling at me, marveling over my new ink. “Gotta say, for someone who doesn’t have a shit ton of tattoos yet, you sat so good!”
“Thanks!” I tried for my usual chipper tone, but my hands were trembling ever so slightly.
Just adrenaline.