Chapter 18 #2
“You can sit,” Milo said, pointing to the chair.
She scooped up his shirt and laid it over her lap, a plume of his cologne flooding her lungs and dominating her senses.
He stared at her for a moment, and if she couldn’t already hear Jenner’s heavy footsteps returning down the hall, she might have asked him what he was looking at.
“Alright, I’ve got two options. Let me do the bigger one first.” Jenner wiped Milo’s arm and placed the thin stencil down, peeling it slowly and pointing at the mirror across the room.
“Hmm,” Milo hummed, lifting his arm and looking at it from a few angles. “What do you think?” he asked Hanna.
She stood and crossed the space, standing next to him in the mirror. Between a whiskey barrel and a cowboy hat, a purple outline of a vase and some wildflowers nestled in neatly.
“Flowers, huh?” she asked.
“All my mom’s favorites,” Milo said. “Don’t get too excited.”
Hanna blushed and Jenner sucked air through his teeth.
“I think the smaller one,” Hanna mumbled.
Jenner wiped the space clean and reset it with the second stencil, which left a little breathing room around the petals of the roses and lilies.
“Better,” Hanna said.
“Where are we doing the second one?” Jenner asked, holding up a singular sunflower, the size of a silver dollar.
Milo shrugged. “That’s for her.”
Hanna’s nose scrunched as she looked between them.
“Me?”
“Yeah, if you want it.” Milo’s green eyes caught hers. “No pressure.”
She leaned toward Jenner, the petals sloping gently around his massive hand. It was delicate, the lines soft, and it would look pretty on her. Bastard.
“Where would you put it?” Hanna asked Milo.
He smirked, sliding his hand over her stomach and landing against her sternum, just below her breasts.
“Just one idea,” he mumbled as her breath hitched. “If you’re comfortable with it. If not, the shoulder could be cute? Ankle?”
“Fine,” she said, his lips falling into a frown. “But like, actually fine.”
He laughed and laid down on his stomach. Jenner wrapped fresh tape around his needle and laid out the ink. Hanna moved to sit back down, but Milo’s hand caught hers.
“You’re not going to hold my hand? What if I’m nervous?”
Hanna snorted, her eyes falling over the dozens of pieces he’d collected.
“You’re a problem.”
“I know,” he whispered, squeezing her fingers. She dragged the chair over and sat beside him opposite Jenner, who could not have cared less about the weird dynamic he was an unwilling participant in.
“What percentage of those did you do?” Hanna asked as Jenner rounded the vase’s mouth.
“Hmm, probably ninety? Few new ones since I left the Bay, it looks like.”
“You’re prettier, don’t worry,” Milo said.
“Don’t flirt with me, you know you aren’t my type.”
Hanna folded her arms. “And how many flowers have you tattooed on his plus ones?”
Jenner snorted, wiping away a bead of black ink.
“This is a first,” he said.
“Really?”
“I didn’t know Milo spoke to women in public until tonight,” Jenner said, switching the needle to a shading tip. “But he’s full of surprises.”
That, Hanna could certainly agree with. Milo turned his head to lay on his free arm, sinking his stare into hers. The silence while Jenner worked wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t intolerable. She could handle it.
That was progress, wasn’t it?
Jenner wiped away another pool of ink and leaned back to examine his work.
“Alright, brother. You know the drill.” He stretched a piece of plastic wrap over the flowers, taping the edges down. “Go sign her release forms while I reset.”
Milo slowly pulled his shirt over his fresh tattoo, following Hanna back to the lobby. He pointed toward the receptionist and asked for a release form, handing over a wad of cash.
“I can pay for mine,” Hanna said.
“Nah.” It was all he had to say.
Hanna scrawled her name across a tablet and handed it back to the receptionist. She turned to Milo.
“When did you send him the sunflower?”
“Few weeks ago,” he mumbled, flipping through one of the flash binders on the desk. “I was going to tell you, but then… well, you were there.”
“Right,” she whispered, following him back to Jenner’s studio.
“Figured I’d feel out the vibe once we got here.”
“And it has nothing to do with a certain blonde—”
“Don’t,” he said, pressing a finger to her lips. “None of that. This is just for you. You want me to come in with you?”
Hanna thought about that. He’d already seen everything, but it had all gotten so strange.
“Do you want to come in?”
“Obviously,” Milo said, grinning.
“Fine,” Hanna said, changing her tune when he frowned. “Great.”
She sat on the table as Jenner showed her the two sizes he’d printed—she opted for the larger of the two, so the petals would brush against the curves of her.
“Pasties, tape, or freeballin’?” Jenner asked, pulling out a drawer of adhesive covers. “I’m gay as shit, if that factors into your decision.”
Hanna looked at Milo, who only laughed.
She rolled the top of her dress down around her waist, tossing her bra at Milo. Jenner had her lie back and gently pressed the stencil against her skin.
“Check the placement for me.”
Hanna sat up, staring at her torso in the mirror.
“What do you think?” she asked Milo.
He swallowed and she could practically see his throat tightening around a response as his eyes swept over her.
“It’s perfect.” He leaned back in the chair, running his hands through his hair. “You’re perfect.”
She wasn’t sure it was a compliment, the way the words soured on his tongue.