Chapter 19 Lake
Chapter nineteen
Lake
“You’re making a mistake,” Avery says flatly behind me.
“I don’t care,” I sing, pushing through the glass door leading into the tattoo parlour.
“Which is also a mistake.”
I can’t help but grin at the surly tone.
The owner of the place, Loren Massey, is standing at the counter with one of his artists, Britt Davis. He looks up and smiles when he sees us. “Hey, right on time.”
Avery wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Actually, about that—”
“I’m ready to get started,” I interrupt, mimicking his movement so we’re holding each other. “Avery here is my moral support and hand-holder.”
“And here I thought I was going to be your designated hand-holder,” Britt says, deadpan.
“Do you have to book that, or is it free?” Avery asks.
“It costs more than you can afford,” she retorts.
“But the sass is free,” I add, grinning wide. Pulling out my wallet, I hold it up. “I have cash.”
“Who carries cash anymore?” Britt asks. “Do you know how unsanitary money is?”
“Normally I don’t, but there was this dog, and then this old lady needed help, and then there was a busker that was really good, and a car with a bumper sticker.
” They’re all staring at me, confused. “You had to have been there.” Yesterday afternoon was a whole adventure, but I made some new friends, so I consider it time well spent.
“Cash is fine,” Loren says. “We can sort that out after the session.”
“You don’t need to worry about that, because it’s not happening,” Avery says, squeezing me. “He changed his mind.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
I turn to him, dislodging his arm in the process. “I don’t need your permission to get a tattoo.” Sometimes I think he forgets I’m the big brother, not him.
Avery crosses his arms over his chest. ‘Well, I’m not giving it.”
“Luckily, you aren’t part of this transaction. I give my money to our good friend here, and then they do the work. Without your approval.” In case he missed that part. Sometimes he only hears what he wants to when he’s being petulant.
“What’s the one rule about relationships, Lake?”
“Don’t cheat?” Is this a trick question? I bet there’s more than one rule.
“What’s the second rule?”
Called it. “You’re changing your one-rule rule.”
“May I—”
“No,” Avery interrupts Loren, pointing a finger at him. “Stay out of this.”
Loren mimics locking his lips and throwing away the key.
“That’s rude. Besides, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.” I had told him because I was excited, not for a lecture.
“I’m not letting you get a tattoo on a whim,” Avery insists. “This isn’t like you getting drunk from a goon, eating your weight in cheese, and throwing up in the pool.”
Loren clears his throat, and Britt snorts with laughter.
My mouth drops open in mock outrage. “You want to start throwing around bad ideas?”
“Only yours.”
“That only happened once, FYI. Also, it takes extreme talent to eat that much cheese. I could compete.” The drinking part I can skip. I still remember it vividly. The memory tastes like death. Or puke. Or both. Both. Definitely both.
“I don’t think it counts if you throw it up after,” Britt helpfully points out.
Bummer. “It was still impressive.”
“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” Avery says, rolling his eyes. As if he fared any better that night. He’s conveniently leaving out the part where it was his eighteenth birthday. “Hangovers pass. Tattoos are permanent.”
“I know how tattoos work.”
“The number one rule—”
“Two—”
“—two rule is that you don’t get names tattooed on you. It’s class 101. You have no idea what will happen in the future, and then you have this regret just permanently etched on your skin.”
“That’s kind of morbid, going into a relationship already thinking there’s a chance it will end.” I don’t think that with Grady. I never will. He’s my person.
“No, it’s practical.”
“It’s sad. Is that how you feel about Felix and Zach?” That makes me sad. My best friends deserve ultimate happiness, and for the man they’re in love with to think forever, not “for now.” Avery deserves better than that too.
Avery hesitates. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s not—stop trying to change the subject. Of course, I don’t think that. I want it to be forever. But you can never really know, can you?”
“I know,” I say quietly. I’ve never once thought about a personal tattoo with anyone else I’ve dated, not even Sadie, who was the most serious besides Grady. That was nothing like this, and I know with complete certainty that nothing else ever will be.
Avery deflates. “Lake, c’mon, you can’t know that. I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret that you did this.”
“I won’t.” The only thing I’ve ever been as sure about is choosing Grady in the first place. “Are you going to wake up one day and regret the canvas you made of your chest?”
“That’s not even close to the same thing. Those are personal to me, not anyone else.”
“This is personal to me.” What could be more personal than the man I’m going to call my husband soon?
Avery sandwiches my face between his palms. “Sometimes I forget just how damn naive you are.”
“A compliment, surely,” I say dryly.
“I love and hate how deeply you feel. I wish you protected your heart better.”
What do I say to that? I just smile in response instead. He’s wrong if he thinks I need to be protected from Grady. I don’t.
“Look—can we at least negotiate on the tattoo itself?”
“I’m not putting his name on me.” I don’t fully understand how that even came into the argument.
“Because his badge number is different than that?”
“Well, one is numbers, and one is letters.” That seems like a pretty big difference.
“I know he’s, like, married and shit to his job, but that’s not who you’re marrying. It’s not who you’re in love with. It’s just one facet of him, and one day he’ll retire.”
Okay, I guess I can see his point. “What would you suggest?”
“I have no idea. Loren?” Avery turns to the man in question. “Suggestions?”
He points to his lips and pretends to attempt—and fail—at opening them.
“You threw the imaginary key you used to lock your lips on the ground; I’m not picking it up,” Avery says.
“Don’t look at me,” Britt says immediately. She’s not even looking at us, concentrating on whatever is on the hundred-year-old computer that Loren should have replaced years ago.
“I didn’t see what direction you threw it,” I say innocently.
“You want something personal, correct?” Loren asks, rubbing his chin. “Not a name and not a badge number. I would suggest something that means something to you, and to Grady, but something with elegant subtlety?"
That could be anything. Also, I don’t even know what elegant subtlety looks like. “He doesn’t like pancakes.”
“So you want to put a pancake on your ass?” Avery says with a smirk. “Nice.”
“I’m not putting anything on my ass.”
“Perhaps something that is about the two of you together?” Loren says lightly. “A special date? Or a location. Something to that effect.”
Yeah, Grady probably wouldn’t see the romantic gesture in a pancake tattoo.
I’d get it if flavours could be infused in tattoos.
It would have to be somewhere I could lick it, though.
On second thought, a pancake-flavoured tattoo would be better on Grady because then I could lick it all the time.
Way better idea. Would he get one for me? Maybe if I asked nicely.
“Emphasis on subtle, Lake,” Avery says. “Not his face on your chest like a giant beacon.”
“Can you do glow-in-the-dark tattoos?” I ask with a snicker.
“Yes, using luminous ink. However, it’s not quite so simple as turning off the light. It needs a particular kind of light to do its work. It’s an option if you wanted to look at it.”
“Maybe?” It sounds cool.
“Might help to figure out what you want first,” Avery says.
He rests his elbow on the front counter and raises an eyebrow at me like well, c’mon.
As if it’s that easy to just think of something.
I’d already thought of something. Having to come up with a second idea feels like a test I didn’t study for.
Went into my science exam, only to find out it was actually math.
Something personal. Something us. Meaningful. A particular date.
Oh.
Oh.
I smile widely. “I know exactly what I want to do.”
Even Avery gives me the nod of approval when I explain. It’s perfect, of course he likes the idea of it. Subtle enough for him and still everything to me.
“Where are we putting it?” Loren asks as he leads me behind a curtain to a tattoo station that smells like antiseptic and possibilities.
This part I already know, at least. And the change of art won’t affect that. “My hip.”
“It’s a very sensitive area,” Loren says delicately. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Avery winces. “I’m gonna get broken fingers, aren’t I?”
“I promise not to break your fingers, only bruise them a little.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “That’s not as comforting as you think.”
“It’s more of a compromise,” I say with a shrug before flopping down on the hydraulic tattoo chair. “How much of my clothing do you need me to take off?”
Britt closes the curtain behind us, her footsteps receding.
“She didn’t want to see me naked?”
“I believe the only person she likes to see naked is her wife,” Loren says with a shake of his head. “Though last week, she did do a dick tattoo, so who knows?”
Now it’s my turn to wince. “That sounds… painful.” Understatement.
“It’s definitely not for everyone.”
It’s definitely not for me. The only person touching my dick is Grady. And me. And only to do nice things to it, not putting a needle near it. The only form of torture I like is when Grady doesn’t let me come until I beg for it.
“Shirt off and just undo your pants and pull them down—” He makes a level with his hand on my hip. “Down to here? I shouldn’t need more than that, but if we need to make adjustments, we can.”
He messes with stuff on his table while I get comfortable. I have no idea what he’s doing, but it looks complicated. “Have you done this before?” I joke.
Loren shoots me a smile over his shoulder. “I believe the term they’d use for you is ‘guinea pig.’”
“Be gentle.”
Avery drags a chair over beside me and sits down, lifting a knee and resting a foot on the edge of the seat. “How long is this gonna take?”
It ends up taking almost five hours to complete, so it’s damn good thing that I chose our suit fitting day to get it done. Grady is busy, he knows I’m with Avery, so being away for hours doesn’t look suspicious at all. Fortuitous timing!
Loren cleans it carefully and then places gauze and plastic wrap on it.
“Keep this on for the rest of the day. Make sure any time you touch the area that you wash your hands thoroughly first. You do not want to get it infected. You can use warm water and fragrance-free soap to clean it. Gently. Pat it dry, don’t rub.
” He grabs something off the shelf behind me.
“Put this lotion on, and make sure everything gets covered in it. Repeat that two to three times a day for the next week. Here’s a sheet that tells you everything you need to know.
If there are any issues, or you’re concerned about anything, call us here. Don’t google it.”
“Google is my friend.”
“You need better friends,” Loren says dryly. “When it gets itchy, don’t scratch it. You’ll be tempted. Don’t.”
“No scratching, got it.” I carefully lift my pants, trying my best to avoid the area. It’ll be fun trying to keep the fact that I’m feeling very tender right from Grady. I’ll have to distract him with really good alcohol. I’ll make a trip to a Dan Murphy’s on the way home.
“No regrets?” Avery asks me, squinting as though he’s waiting for me to be all, “Oh, shit, what have I done?”
I hold the door open, gesturing for him to go first. “No regrets.”