Page 148 of Almost Love

“You’re serious.”

“Until you, I never really thought about getting a tattoo. But I seriously want one. And I want you to do it for me.” She shrugged out of her jacket and set it along with her purse on the side, then hopped onto the table.

He stared at her a long moment before sitting on his stool and rolling it closer. “Do you trust me to give you the right tattoo?”

“Like a surprise?”

“Yeah.”

“Absolutely. I trust you.”

He cupped the back of her head and brought their mouths together. She sighed softly into the kiss, brushing her hands down his arms despite how awkward the position was. But that didn’t matter. The kiss was scorching and burned through every inch of her. She pulled back and licked her lips, watching as his eyes refocused.

“Be right back.”

She looked around the space, taking in details she hadn’t noticed before and then he was back, paper and marker in hand. Even though she wanted to see what he was drawing for her, Clementine kept her eyes off his work.

“All right, lie down,” he said and she followed his instructions, crossing her sneakered feet at the ankles. The curtain rustled and someone handed things to Oakley before leaving. He sat down on the stool again and snapped on his gloves, the whole thing way hotter than she realized.

“I think I get the tattoo artist kink now.”

“The what?”

“See you in work mode. You’ve got this look in your eyes and those gloves.” She fanned herself and he snorted, shaking his head.

“Behave or I’ll never get this done.” Once he was done setting up, he said, “Where do you want it?”

“Forearm. Like yours.”

He smiled and held his hand out, so she stretched out her right arm. “Do you need anything before to distract you?”

“My phone?”

He retrieved it from her purse and handed it over. Not that she ever spent that much time on her phone, but she took it and scrolled through Instagram and then her Notes app. Since she had only one hand, she couldn’t type up ideas. All the while, Oakley talked her through what he was doing.

“Cleaning your arm so I can trace the stencil,” he said and she grunted to acknowledge that she’d heard him. He explained the next few steps and when she felt the first prick of the needle, she hissed. Her pain threshold was pretty high, so she had no worries about that, but the insistent buzzing and poking was uncomfortable. However, it seemed like he was working pretty quickly.

“Gonna shade it in now. You doing okay?”

“Yup. Just want my arm back.”

He chuckled and kissed her wrist. She took a picture of him bent over her arm and sent it to the girls, captioning it with:I think I might keep him. The texts came in instantly and she grinned, setting her phone to vibrate and closing her eyes. She didn’t know how long he’d been working, but when he said her name, she blinked her eyes open like she’d been asleep.

“Ready to see?”

“Fuck yes.” He helped her sit up and she lifted her arm, breath catching in her throat at the tattoo. “Oak.”

In the center of her forearm was a piping bag, shaded in a rainbow of colors—pretty much all the ones she’d spread on her body the night before—and one thick line flowed out and down the side of her arm.

“From the day I saw you, frosting has been part of our relationship. I thought this would be a good dedication for that.”

“It’s beautiful.” Looking up at him, she blinked back tears. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Clem.”

Then he launched into aftercare instructions, but she wasn’t listening. He’d be with her through it and he’d help her with it whenever she fucked up. Because all she could focus on was the fact that she’d found someone who loved her, prickly edges and all. Someone who thought she was worth the trouble. Someone who looked at her and saw her worth.

Someone who sawall of herand put it into a simple, yet beautiful, tattoo that was now forever on her skin.

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