Page 83 of Set the Moment
Oh…
Somaybegetting tattoos and riding on the back of motorcycles aren’t for me.Big whoop.I can always– OH MY!
The feeling of a rapid drilling in my ankle sends me spiraling. My eyes bulge out of their sockets as I peer down at the pure mutilation occurring towards my beautifully soft and empty skin.
Scratch what I said earlier…Getting tattoos and riding on the back of motorcycles are DEFINITELYnotfor me.
By the time Bertha is done nailing into my skin, I want a batch of chocolate chip cookies—all to myself, obviously—and a nice long everything shower.
As agreed with Jace, I’m not allowed to see either of our tattoos until we make it back to the loft. When Jace joins me back in the lobby, his entire neck and cheeks are red, but his bicep is covered by a plastic wrap. Mortification and confusion run through my bones as I eye him suspiciously.
“What did you do…”
“Let me see! Let me see! Let me see!”
“Jeez, girl, I’m starting to think you want to see more than the tattoo.” Jace chuckles as I yank on his arm, clearly amused by my antics as we enter the loft.
I groan as I tug on him again and to my displeasure, he doesn’t react to the tugging. Instead, he tilts his head at me as if to sayare you done?andno, I’m not done.
“Let me see it! Why were your neck and cheeks red? What did you do? Is it a dick? Did you get a dick on your neck? How would I explain that to anyone—Oh my goodness, yourmom! How would I tell her that her son got aphalluson his neck instead of only in his pants!?” My exclamations are drowned out by the loud cackling laugh of the man beside me.
Jace kisses my forehead, his body vibrating with humor as I frown, folding my arms over my chest.
“Come here,” he says stalking towards the couches in the living room, his voice a mixture between a command and soft plea.
I comply, following behind him with narrowed eyes as he takes a seat on the couch.
He looks between the seat next to him and me, his fingers twiddling with one another nervously as he bites his lip. Is he…is Jace Heart nervous?
Anxiety flares in my gut as I take a cautious seat next to him, his usual comforting scent of vanilla and leather leave a feeling of dread in my stomach as I turn to stare at the man beside me. Without speaking, Jace softly grasps my ankle where the tattoo he’d designed is covered. I lean forward, expecting the worst as he draws out the reveal of the tattoo, taking his sweet precious time to rip off the (literal) Band-Aid.
“Oh for Pete’s sake!” I cry out, reaching out to rip the dang thing off only to be popped quickly by his cold fingers.
Did I just get popped by a grown man?
I stare at him, my jaw dropped as he ignores me.
“You were going to ruin the surprise,” he chides, slowly pulling back the wrap once again.
I’m sorry but…Did this man justpopme?
I mean…truly popped. Like a four-year-old getting popped by their nanny in the mouth for saying “shut the fuck up” in Turkish after hearing it on a soap opera,popped.
That may or may not have happened to me…Moving on.
My brain is still reeling from the fact that Jace popped me like a bad ass kid that I don’t notice his silence or the cold air hitting my skin.
“This is beautiful…” he murmurs, examining my ankle closely, catching my attention.
I lean forward, the eagerness and excitement from earlier now back in full throttle as I take in the small, dainty tattoo he’d insisted be put on my skin.
My breath catches in my throat as I take in the intricate swirls of black ink embedded in my skin permanently. He’d drawn a small and intricate key, the bow of the key a detailed swirl of lines curving into a heart. The key reminds me of something I’ve seen before with its vintage and old-timey art style.
I’m transfixed by the tattoo, so much so that when I look from it, I’m startled slightly to find Jace already looking at me.
His eyes are a wild range of emotions, drawing me in.
“Do you like it?” he asks softly, his thumb caressing the skin under my leg as I nod.
