Patchwork
It’s not a relationship, it’s just a patchwork of tattoo sessions and sweaty secrets with a rock star. No big deal.
I’ve been keeping this secret for four years, counting down the months in between visits from Onyx.
To everyone else I’m “Hero” but he mostly just calls me “yes” and “more” while we trade heated kisses and wandering hands.
I know it won’t ever be anything more than a wild secret and eventually he’ll get bored hooking up with a tattoo artist fifteen years too old for him from Nowhere, Wisconsin. But I’m more than happy to enjoy this while it lasts.
But when Onyx shows up unannounced and tells me that instead of a hurried weekend we have 3 full months before he has to hit the road again, I don’t know if I’m more excited or terrified to see where things will go.
I’m sure there’s more to life than tattooing Onyx and spending late nights talking until the sun comes up, but whatever that “more” is, it can’t be as fun as this.
No matter how hard I’m falling for him, there’s no way that he’s going to give up his rock star lifestyle to stay here with me… is there?
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