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He sucks in a sharp breath, and I watch as the muscles in his back tense and then relax.
“Sorry,” I say, my voice low. “Are my hands cold?”
He’s turned his head away, facing the other direction. Finn doesn’t answer immediately, and I hear Ryan talking to someone one room over.
“No.” His voice is nearly a whisper. “They’re not cold.”
My stomach flutters, and I don’t ask any more questions.
I quickly sketch out the simple design, hoping that he won’t be disappointed, but more importantly, hoping that I don’t accidentally hurt him. I felt bad enough for the orange.
Once it’s done, which doesn’t take long, I set the pen down on the small tray next to me as Ryan makes his way to my side. I stare at the spot, wondering how he would be able to tell what I made in such a short amount of time. “Okay, give it a guess.”
Finn turns to look at me again, and I notice the way his jaw ticks as if he’s holding back a smile. “I’m not going to tell you, but I will say it’s very obvious.”
“That’s not fair!” I swat at him. “You could lie and say you got it right. Tell me now.”
“It’s a crescent moon,” he says, his tone assured.
I frown. “How did you know?”
The smile breaks free then. “Easy, Ellis. You’ll have to try harder next time.”
Next time.
“Alright,” Ryan announces, and I hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun start up again, my palms instantly sweaty. “It’s go time.”
The cold air swirls around us when we exit the tattoo shop. Christmas lights hang on the trees near the sidewalk and remind me of the season. I’ve hardly thought about the holiday–not with B gone.
I wonder if they have a special Christmas gathering for lonely people–the ones who have little to no friends outside of their job. A gathering for people with dead moms and unknown fathers who desperately need company for the holiday.
I briefly consider attending an AA meeting.
“Why are you frowning?” Finn asks, his hands tucked into the pocket of his sweatshirt. “I told you it looks great.”
“It’s not that.” I don’t want to admit what I’m thinking. It sounds pitiful. I don’t want to sound like I’m asking for pity. He’salready gone above and beyond to make my birthday special. In fact, I’m not sure anything else could top this weekend–not ever.
“What is it?” Finn nudges into me.
“I’m just surprised you let me participate in that level of body modification, is all.” It’s not the full truth, but it’s enough. “Next thing you know, you’ll be letting strange women dye your hair purple.”
That same smile rests on his face–the one that makes his entire demeanor shift, and I briefly realize that I haven’t been subjected to his RBF since the coffee shop.
“We could do that,” he says. “It’s just hair.”
My brows lower. “You’re not serious?”
We stand in front of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo parlor, eyes locked and ink freshly engraved into our skin.
“Oh, I’m very serious, Ellis.” His tongue rolls along his cheek as he leans in ever so slightly, making my entire body feel at least ten degrees warmer. “I want to keep spending time with you.”
“And you think letting me dye your hair is a good way to do that?”
He shrugs. “Maybe it’s on my bucket list to dye my hair. You don’t know.”
He’s standing close, smelling like that expensive cologne from the wedding. The scent of amber reminds me of his eyes, hazel and shining like he’s having as much fun as I am. It’s strange to think that someone dressed so casually, someone who spends a good amount of time sitting in the dim light of their closet mixing music, smells like that. It certainly isn’t unpleasant though, and I find myself leaning in.
“Okay then, Finn. Let’s go buy some hair dye.”
