“Sure can.” I grinned widely. “My girlfriend wants to get her first tattoo.”
“Oh man, that’s a special occasion. I’d love to help with that. I’m Drew.”
April spun, glaring at me. She sputtered and mumbled things that made no sense. She wasn’t able to formulate a full sentence, which was a first for her. The burly man pointed at two large books in the corner.
“There’s some designs in there you might like.” His eyes raked over her and he let out a smirk. “Bet you’re a flower or butterflies type of girl.”
She rolled her eyes. Mine followed. I may not know too much, but even I knew that wasn’t even in the same ballpark.
“Gimme a few. I’m just about done.” He nodded to the girl squad in the corner.
My attention returned to April as she flipped through the book with curiosity. Her eyes skimming the designs thatranged from simplistic, to intricate, with details so tiny, I wondered how they were able to keep their hand steady. Wrapping my arms around her, my chin rested on her shoulder as I pointed out a few that were cute enough, but April was justmehabout them all.
“What exactly are you wanting?” I asked out of the corner of my mouth.
“I dunno.” She let out a long sigh. “Something that makes me want it permanently etched on my body.”She glanced around the shop until her eyes found a mirror, then went wide, and her face broke into a giant grin. “I’ve got it.”
Her excitement was contagious. She lifted her team sweater from her bag.My eyebrows drew together in confusion. Just then, the girls all came over to the desk, chatting animatedly, and admiring their matching mini-tattoos. He rang them up and turned his attention to us. “Decided yet?”
“Yes!” She grinned, holding up her sweater. “Can you draw this?” She pointed at the team logo of a tornado.
“Just like that or change it up a bit?”
“As close as you can get it to be.”
He studied the logo and pulled out some paper. “Gimme five to get something down.”
She squealed in excitement, making me laugh.After he walked away, April was bouncing on her toes, anxiously awaiting her drawing.
My eyes raked over her delicate, creamy skin. “Where is it going?”
She stopped bouncing side to side. “No idea.” She glanced down at herself. “Where is a decent spot that isn’t a tramp stamp or overly noticeable?”
Snort-chuckling, I coughed. “Tramp stamp? Pretty sure no one’s called it that in at least a decade.”
“You knew exactly what I was referring to, so I’d say it still applies.”
Fair enough. “Shoulder blade?”
She glanced over her shoulder. As if she was trying to envision it. “Maybe.”
“Ankle?” she said thoughtfully.
Grimacing, I shook my head. “On bone? That’s painful.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
I moved closer to her and lowered my head to above her ear. “Inside of your thigh?”
She gasped.
“What? I doubt your mother would see it there.”
She laughed. “I’d freaking hope not.”
My hand found its warmth against her arm. Slowly, my fingers trickled down her arm to her wrist. Pulling it up, I delicately pointed to the side of it. “Here?”
Her breath had stilled. Her eyes left mine, moving to the spot on her wrist, under her watchband.
