Page 123 of A Little Jaded
“You should go get it.”
Her eyes bulge. “Everett?—”
“I’m serious,” I push.
“So am I,” she argues.
“I want you to give me a tattoo.”
“Everett, a tattoo is…it’s permanent.”
“So?”
“So, you don’t have any tattoos, which means you know how permanent they really are, and?—”
“It’s just a tattoo, Stormie.” I grab her hand and bring it to my lips.
“Is it, though?” she whispers.
“All right, let’s say it’s more.” I kiss her knuckles again. “I’m still in.”
Her eyes flick to mine. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Positive. Besides, the idea of being your first is hot as fuck.”
She snorts. “So that’s why you want me to give you a tattoo.”
“No, I want you to give me a tattoo because you’re talented. Really talented. And if you can’t see it. If you can’t take the plunge without someone giving you a little push, I’ll do it. I’ll give you the push.” I lift my chin toward the hall. “Go get your machine.”
Sucking her lips between her teeth, she stands and scurries down the hall like a little mouse, quickly returning with a black box. “You’re really sure? I mean?—”
“Open the box, Raine,” I order.
Her nostrils flare, but she rounds the coffee table separating us and sits on the edge of the couch cushion beside me. Then, I watch in fascination as she spreads a bunch of things I’ve never seen out on the coffee table.
After straightening a black tube, she fidgets with a small clear bottle and asks, “Do you…do you know what you want?”
“Surprise me.”
“Ev,” she scolds. “I’m already going out on a limb by giving you a tattoo. Pull your weight, will ya?”
Chuckling, I settle further into the cushions and stretch my legs out. “All right. I know what I want.”
“What?”
“A storm cloud.”
Her fidgeting ceases, and she peeks over her shoulder at me. “You’re joking.”
“Not joking.”
“You want a storm cloud?”
I nod. “Yeah, Raine. I want a storm cloud.”
“Is this because my brother bullied you, and you feel bad, and you’re trying to make me feel better? Because if anyone should apologize, clearly it’s?—”
I kiss her, stealing her unnecessary apology before it even has a chance to slip past her pretty pink lips. She tastes sweet. So fucking sweet. Dragging my tongue against the seam of her lips, I swallow her soft sigh, craving it more than my next breath.
