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There. I draw a curved line. Round it. Finish the other half.
The room quiets as the tattoo gun's hum ceases.
It's October now. Even in Venice Beach, even five blocks from the beach, the weather is cooler. Which means the air-conditioning is at brisk rather than ice box.
At the moment, it's silent.
Our breath is the only sound in the room.
My inhale is sharp. My exhale is heavy.
Dean moves closer. Until he's right behind me. Inches away.
Then pressed against me.
His hard chest against my back. His crotch against my ass. His arms around my shoulders.
My heartbeat picks up.
My stomach flutters.
My body buzzes with desire.
His touch feels so good.
Right now, I need good. This might be my last chance to kiss and make up with my body.
But can I trust him?
Can I muster up the guts to turn around and kiss him?
His fingers trail down my arm. My wrist. The back of my hand. He picks up the banana and studies it. "Good."
"Yeah?"
"This is it."
"It how?"
"You're graduating." He sets the fruit on the desk. Steps backward enough to release me. "Do a more complicated design this time."
"You have a banana?"
"Not one you can ink."
"In your dreams."
"Pretty sure needles on my dick falls into nightmare."
"Then how did you get the piercing—"
"Raw willpower."
"Bullshit." I need to tease him. I need to feel like today is a normal day and not the one before I meet my fate. "It was narcissism, plain and simple."
"Damn, sunshine. Slow down. I don't know those SAT words."
I turn and stare up at him. "It was all your ego."
