Chapter 31 #2
Anton pulls her to his side and kisses her temple. “I’m so happy for you, Sammy Rose.” He starts to trail a line of kisses down her cheek, but Rose swats him away. He looks offended until she glances over at him and winks.
“That’s incredible,” Lucy says. “You’ll have to let me know when she’s here so I can put it on my calendar. I’d love to come.”
“I absolutely will. It’s going to be huge for Mood Reader. I can’t wait to start planning a giant party.”
“I like parties. Maybe I should tag along,” I put in.
“The more the merrier, TJ. You a big romance reader?” Rose asks.
I side-eye Lucy. “I’ve been thinking about becoming one recently.”
Rose glances between the two of us. “That tracks.”
“You two want to hit up the hot tub?” Anton asks, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “Looks like it’s empty at the moment.”
God bless him. Maybe he is more of a wingman than I give him credit for. Then again, he’s a man in love, and he’s been harping on me about how great it is to settle down with a good woman for months. Since meeting Lucy, I don’t disagree.
“We were thinking about it,” Lucy says, shooting me a shy glance.
Rose hooks her arm through Lucy’s. “I’ll show you where the bathrooms are so you can change.”
“That would be great.” Lucy looks over her shoulder at me as Rose leads her down the hallway. “See you out there?”
All I can do is nod.
“Dude,” Anton says, laughing. He slaps me on the back, startling me from the trance Lucy put me under. “You’ve got it bad, and I am here for it. How soon is too soon to say I told you so?”
I shake my head. “It’s too soon. I need to convince her to take a chance on me, Bates. I need to take this slow.”
He nods solemnly. “Let me know if you want any tips.”
“I’m not coming to you for romance tips.”
Anton shrugs. “Your loss.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I make my way around him. “I’m going to change. I don’t want to leave Lucy alone.”
Anton snorts. “More like you miss her already, don’t you?”
Guilty as charged.
I hurry away from the sound of Anton’s knowing laughter.
When I climb into the hot tub a few minutes later, Lucy is already sitting on the far side. I can’t help the groan that escapes as I sink into the bubbly water, closing my eyes. My muscles are knotted and sore from three hours on the field this afternoon. “This feels amazing,” I breathe.
Lucy doesn’t respond, and I blink to find her looking dazed. “You—your tattoos.”
I look down. “Oh, yeah. I have a lot. Is, uh, that not something you like?” That could be a problem. I cock my head to the side. “Wait. Didn’t you do your research on me after we met?”
She swallows and shakes her head. “No, I mean. Yes. I like them. And yes, I did.” Lucy looks away, and my stomach bottoms out, but then she meets my gaze again.
“I saw the tattoos in the photos, but I stopped short of studying them. It didn’t feel right to ogle when I knew who you were but you didn’t know who I was. ”
In a day and age where pro athletes are objectified for our bodies—and to be fair, I’ve leaned into that narrative in the past—it’s nice to hear about someone holding something sacred or respecting me enough to at least want to get to know me before they examined me. I’m weirdly touched by that.
“Would you like to look at them now?”
She bobs her head, and I slide around to her side of the hot tub.
“I’ve been getting tattoos since I turned eighteen. Gram about had a heart attack when I came home with my first one.” I tip my body to the side so Lucy can see my shoulder blade.
Lucy turns, her bare arm grazing mine. Goosebumps erupt on my skin, which is ridiculous given that we’re in a hot tub, but there’s no stopping it. Lucy is apparently too stunned to notice.
“Wow. It’s … wild.”
I look over my shoulder at her to find she’s trying to suppress a smile. “Was that supposed to be a pun?”
“Would you have preferred me to roar?” Lucy lets a smile break loose on her face, and I laugh.
“You can see why Gram lost her mind.”
“The artwork is actually incredible.” Lucy presses her hand to my arm and tilts me forward so she can study it again.
The soft touch of her fingertips makes me lose my breath for a moment.
“It looks like it’s ready to pounce. Like it could leap off your skin.
” Her hand slides down my arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
“I can’t say I’d get the same tattoo if I were going in for one today, but I don’t regret this one.
It’s big and daring, sure.” I shrug, thinking back to the kid I was walking into the tattoo parlor at eighteen.
“That’s what I was going for. I graduated from high school and was off to college, walking on to the football team.
My parents were gone, but my whole life felt like it stretched out before me.
I had nothing figured out, but I wanted to live big and bold, with no fear.
I thought if I did that, I could really be something, you know? The tiger is who I wanted to be.”
There’s something intimate about showing my tattoos to Lucy like this, here and now.
Just the two of us. I glance over to find her staring back, and I’m suddenly insecure.
The tiger tattoo is outlandish. In those online articles critiquing my body, it’s often what commenters say downgrades me in my overall sex appeal.
I don’t really care what those people think, but I do care what Lucy thinks.
“You probably think that’s juvenile,” I add with a nervous chuckle.
“Not at all.” She shakes her head. “I’m glad you told me about it.
I like hearing the story behind it. I like when things have meaning.
” She scans my upper chest and then tentatively reaches out and places her finger on a set of Roman numerals, touching them so delicately.
There’s no legitimate reason I should feel her fingerprint like a stamp to my heart, but I do. “These numbers must be significant.”
“The first two are my parents’ birthdays.
” I watch her trace over the important dates of my lifetime.
“Then the date they died. I added my grandparents’ birthdays over here, along with the date I got drafted by the River Foxes.
My plan is to add to the lists when formative or impactful things happen to me.
Things I want to remember and that are a part of me, in a way. ”
“That’s really beautiful,” Lucy whispers.
I swallow hard. Sitting here with Lucy—it’s the first time in a long time I’ve let myself think about adding the date of my marriage.
The thought of having children and including their birth dates makes my vision swim.
I blink back my tears, lifting my hand and covering her fingers, pressing them to my chest.
We sit in silence, my heart hammering away under her palm.
My head is spinning with thoughts of the past, and everything that got me to this point, while also churning ahead, sprinting toward an unknown future.
I close my eyes and tell myself to be here now, in this moment with Lucy.
I look at her and she smiles softly, holding my vulnerability like it’s a treasure.
I want to pull her closer, but I sit still.
This is all new, and for Lucy, this is uncharted territory.
“What’s this one?” she says after a few moments, dragging her hand across my pecs and to my opposite arm. She turns it so she can study the design on the inside of my bicep.
I grin as I recall the day I forced my teammates to get tattoos.
“Funny story, but I got Poe and Anton to come with me, and we all got tattoos a few years back. They thought I was unhinged, forcing them into all sorts of shenanigans, but it worked out. Anton got a tattoo of a rose, which, after I learned about the real Rose, made a lot more sense. Poe got some poetry, which, honestly, is fitting. I got mine in honor of my grandpa. I knew my grandma would appreciate it, too, but it was mostly for Pa.” I point to the design.
“It’s a reminder of what he always taught me about priorities.
Faith, family, football.” There are three symbols in the tattoo—a long cross in the center, the Triquetra, and an X and O pattern.
Lucy traces the cross. “So this is for faith. What’s this one?” she asks, pointing to the three interlocking arcs of the Triquetra.
“That’s a Celtic symbol for the trinity, which symbolizes the unity and connectivity of the family.
These”—I take my hand and move her finger to the small drawing in the background—“are meant to show a football play call. The cross is the focal point, followed by the Triquetra, and then the football stuff sort of fades behind it all.”
Lucy leans closer to study it, and the scent of her tropical shampoo makes my stomach pitch. “This one might be my favorite.” She flits her gaze up to meet mine. “Do you think you’ll get more?”
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “Tattoos are a form of expression for me, and when I reach a milestone or have a breakthrough, I like to document it. Actually, I’ve been thinking about some new designs lately.”
Lucy tucks a flyaway behind her ear. “Like what?”
“A pine tree, for starters.”
She sucks in a breath. “That’s beautiful, TJ.”
“It’s meaningful to me. That day at the farm was meaningful to me for a lot of reasons.”