Male.
Wordless.
Entirely too understanding.
I regret my words immediately.
“As we said, that tattoo,” Callum says at last, “is not about the hamster.”
I exhale.
“No.”
There.
Seems we are doing honesty now.
Finley resets his grip on my wrist.
“So what is it about?”
I should say nothing important.
I should say it was one intense weekend and everyone needs to calm down.
I should say literally anything less revealing.
Instead, before common sense can intervene, I hear myself say, “I wanted something on me that proves the weekend happened.”
The room goes quiet.
Callum’s eyebrows lift.
Finley glances at him.
Callum glances back.
It is a very specific exchange.
The heterosexual male equivalent of clutching pearls.
I close my eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Callum’s voice softens, which is frankly more alarming than the mockery.
“You’ve got it bad.”
Finley lowers the machine back to my arm.
“Deeply,” he mutters.
I stare at the ceiling and resign myself to never knowing peace again.
Chapter 20
Mark
By the time Iget Heath into the car, he has already rejected the travel cage, the emergency cardboard tube, and one perfectly good sock.
