Chapter 24 #2

Oliver frowns. “I like shiny things, too. I’ve just never really had an opportunity to wear anything shiny until now.” He turns to Bree with a confident smile. “I’ll take the cubed Arizona, or whatever you said. Please.”

I burst into giggles. “Cubed Arizona. I’m never letting you live that one down.”

Bree stifles a laugh as she slides open the back panel of the cabinet to retrieve a sealed carton beneath the display pieces.

“Alright, Jude,” she says as she straightens up again.

“For your piercing, if you’ve never had any sensitivity issues with your lobe piercings, any of these studs would probably be fine. I’d still recommend titanium or gold.”

“I’ll take the titanium cubic zirconia, as well,” I reply. “I’d rather not take any chances.”

“Aww, we’ll match!” Oliver exclaims, wrapping an arm around me again.

This time, I return the gesture, winding my arm around his waist, slotting perfectly flush against his side. “As we should! We are getting the Couple’s BOGO, after all.”

Oliver’s expression flickers with panic for a split second, but it passes quickly, and he presses into me. “Perfect.”

Bree crouches again for another stud, then leads us down a short hallway into a small, brightly lit room.

The walls are lined with a plethora of eccentric art prints and oddities.

There’s a single black leather chair in the middle of the room that looks adjustable to practically any configuration.

The room smells freshly cleaned, but not overwhelmingly so.

A fresh wave of anxiety washes over me, and I squeeze Oliver’s hand a little tighter.

“Okay, who would like to go first?” Bree asks as she dons a pair of black gloves.

When I don’t answer, Oliver gives my hand a gentle squeeze before raising it in the air. “I volunteer as tribute.”

Bree nods and gestures to the chair. “All right, have a seat.”

Oliver complies, climbing into the chair.

His legs are too long to dangle, so his feet awkwardly rest on the ground, allowing his knee to bounce as it had in the car.

Bree tears open an alcohol wipe and meticulously wipes both of Oliver’s earlobes.

He keeps his gaze fixed on me throughout, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Okay, I’m going to use this pen to mark where the piercings will go on your earlobe,” Bree explains, marker in hand. “You can take a look and tell me if that looks good to you. If you’re not 100% confident about the placement, don’t hesitate to tell me. This is your only chance to get it right.”

“No pressure,” Oliver mutters, but smiles. “Okay, sounds good.”

Bree takes her time, holding Oliver’s head in place, checking and rechecking the symmetry, before finally taking a step back. “Take a look in that mirror over there and let me know what you think.”

Oliver slides out of the chair and approaches the gold-framed mirror on the wall, turning his head back and forth to check both lobes. He looks at me. “What do you think, Jude my dude?”

This term of endearment almost catches me off guard because it's not part of our fake-couple ruse, but a genuine nickname Oliver uses for me fairly often. I step forward to take a look for myself, repeating the side-to-side method that both Oliver and Bree used, then nod. “Looks perfect to me.”

Oliver smirks. “I mean, obviously, but what about the piercing placements?”

I roll my eyes. “Ha, ha,” I tease, giving him a playful shove. “I think he’s ready, Bree.”

Bree nods. “Alright, let’s do it.”

While Bree gets her needle and the studs prepped, Oliver returns to the chair, sits up straight, and closes his eyes. A moment later, he takes a shaky breath and gulps.

“Hey, you good?” I ask, moving a bit closer.

He only opens one eye to look at me. “Can I hold your hand?” he mumbles bashfully. “I think it might help distract me.”

Fondness nearly knocks the breath out of me. “Of course, babe,” I whisper, interlacing our fingers and resting our hands on his lap. I watch the tension in Oliver’s face melt, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He inhales deeply, holds it, then exhales slowly.

“Okay, Oliver,” Bree declares. “Are you ready for the first ear?”

Without opening his eyes, Oliver nods. “I’m ready.”

Bree approaches Oliver’s left side and takes both hands up to his earlobe. Oliver squeezes my hand in anticipation.

“Done!”

Oliver blinks his eyes open, then looks at Bree incredulously. “Seriously? That was like, nothing!”

“Yeah, earlobe piercings are practically painless,” Bree says. “Easy peasy.”

Oliver grins widely at me. “Wow, I was such a baby,” he laughs. “I think I can handle the other side just fine.”

“You sure?” I ask. “What if I just want to hold your hand?”

He licks his lips, then smiles. “Okay, fine, just come over here so Bree can get to my right side.”

I reposition to Oliver’s left and eye the fresh piercing. The skin around the sparkling stud is bright red, but I don’t see any blood. “How does it feel now?”

Oliver shrugs. “Maybe a little sore, but it’s barely noticeable.”

While I’m this close to Oliver, I take the chance to admire his hair.

It’s a lovely shade of sandy blonde—darker at the roots and lightening through to the tips.

For a dude, he clearly takes good care of his hair and scalp.

It occurs to me, though, that I’ve never seen it out of a bun or ponytail.

How long would it be if he wore it down?

Maybe shoulder-length? Perhaps a little past his shoulders?

“What is it?” Oliver asks nervously. “Does the piercing look weird? Do I have something in my hair?”

I shake my head. “No, nothing’s wrong or weird.” I try to come up with a lie about what I was doing, but then I remember I don’t have to. “I was just admiring your hair. Have I told you lately how pretty it is?”

Oliver’s concern morphs into confusion, then he flashes a coy smile. “Not recently,” he answers.

“You should wear it down more often, maybe.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Okay, Oliver, are you ready for the second one?”

“Ready!”

It’s over just as quickly as the first, and Oliver eagerly strides to the mirror to check for himself. “Damn, I look amazing!”

“You sure do, babe,” I agree, winking at his reflection.

“Everything looks good, then?” Bree asks, peeling off her gloves.

“They look perfect,” Oliver answers. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome! Now it’s Jude’s turn.”

Bree repeats the process for me, cleaning my nose with the alcohol wipe, marking the placement on my left nostril, and having me confirm it. I spend a few extra seconds in front of the mirror, staring at my face and contemplating my decision for the millionth time. Am I sure I want to do this?

“You’re not getting cold feet, are you?” Oliver asks, watching my reflection.

I sigh. “What if my parents are right? Will this affect my job prospects?”

“Look at it this way,” Oliver says, once again resting a grounding palm in the middle of my back. “Do you really want to work for a place that would hesitate to hire someone based on their appearance alone?”

Huh. I hadn’t thought of it like that. “Not at all.”

“Then I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Relief washes over me, and I smile. “Thanks, Oliver.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I give Bree the all clear and return to the chair. Oliver steps to my right and offers his hand, which I eagerly accept. With our fingers intertwined, I nervously anticipate the needle.

“Now, you’re going to feel some uncomfortable pressure as I get it into position, and it’s going to hurt like hell, but once the needle is through, that’s it.” Bree makes direct eye contact. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Everything Bree describes is accurate, and tears fill my eyes from the pain, but then it’s over. “And, we’re done!”

“Oh no, are you okay?” Oliver asks, his finger brushing my cheek where a tear has trickled. “You’re crying.”

“That’s normal,” Bree reassures him. “It’s quite a bit more painful than lobe piercings.”

“Yeah, it definitely hurt,” I say with a chuckle. “But I’m fine now.”

“It looks rad,” Oliver says with a grin. “Go take a look!”

As soon as I see my reflection, all my anxiety vanishes. Oliver’s right—it does look rad. “I love it,” I whisper. “I really love it.”

Bree grins widely. “I’m so glad! Now, let’s talk aftercare.”

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