Page 114 of Control Freak
Shiloh undid the last few buttons, and I sat forward to shrug out of the shirt and hand it over to him.
“I’ll take that for you,” a familiar voice said.
Emory reached for my shirt, and Shiloh handed it over.
“Hey, Em,” I said. “I should have known you’d be working today.”
“I was helping Fox get started with a client. You guys need anything before Cyrus gets to work?”
“Don’t think so.”
He nodded. “I’ll be around if you need me. Good luck.”
He hung my shirt on a hook affixed to the wall, then carried on to the next station. I was glad. Cyrus would obviously be here doing the ink work, and it wasn’t even close to anything sexual—this was exposure therapy, nothing more—but it was unnerving enough without an audience.
“Okay,” Cyrus said, returning with the transfer art. “You two ready to get started?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, before we begin, let’s make sure we’re on the same page. Do you want Shiloh wearing gloves?”
“Uh, no.” I swallowed. “That might be easier, but also less natural.”
He nodded. “Sure, sure. Okay, Shiloh. I’ll direct you on when and where to touch. We’ll get Holden’s consent before each and every touch. You won’t be going anywhere near the ink. That wouldn’t be hygienic.”
“Of course,” Shiloh said.
Cyrus adjusted the chair, tilting me back a bit to make my upper chest more prominent. I’d decided to get the broken shield over my heart. Symbolically, that felt appropriate. Also, it was easier to tolerate touch there than on my back, neck, or wrists. Those were all trigger points, which was why it’d been so damn hard to get the Bro Code tattoo.
“Holden, you get ready like you usually do,” Cyrus said. “I’m just going to give Shiloh a few more instructions.”
With a nod, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and opened it to a saved list of panda reels.
It was silly, but watching them relaxed me. As the first video started—a panda trying to climb a slide, failing, and sliding down to the bottom while baring its fuzzy tummy to the camera—my heart rate slowed.
A second panda watched from the top, eventually sliding headfirst into the panda at the bottom, and the two of them wrestled. I smiled as they rolled around together.
Somehow, everything they did looked playful. Joyful. As if they could fall off a two-story building and just bounce around like a basketball. As if nothing in the world could harm them.
Not true, of course, but it was a nice fantasy.
I envied their ability to roll with it when things didn’t go to plan. Literally roll head over heels and charge right for what they wanted all over again.
I wanted to be like that.
“Ready?” Cyrus murmured.
I took a breath. “Ready.”
“You’ve already shaved, so I’m going to clean the area, then apply the transfer solution.”
“Okay.”
This was all routine, and I knew what to expect. Cyrus sprayed a soap solution onto my skin, wiped it with a cloth, then swiped over it with alcohol.
“Ready for me to apply the transfer solution?”
I took a breath. This would be the first time Cyrus’s hands really touched me. I nodded.
