Page 24 of Midnight Ink

“You’re the worst.”

“Give me the chance and I’ll be your best.”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Only when my mouth is on a gorgeous man.”

He snorts and lets me tattoo. I’m nearly done. I notice him tighten a bit when I get to the outer edge of his wrist. “Can I look yet?”

“Not yet.” I clean him up, kind of sad he may be leaving after this. I didn’t want to start him out with something huge, although if he’s willing, I have some art in mind that would look good on him. I’ve always had this idea for a galaxy piece that makes your body disappear. The black ink of space would swallow his pale skin. Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I may never see him again after this. “What about you?

“What?”

“Have you ever thought about tattooing?” With his eye, I’d love to get him to try.

“No. Why? You’d show me?”

“Oh, Ian, I’d show you a lot of things.”

“Another terrible line.”

“Who’s saying it’s a line? It’s a promise.” I smile like an idiot since he can’t see me.

“Smooth.”

“That’s me, baby. Smooth as silk.” I take a look at the tattoo with a smile. It’s so clean. On the surface it looks simple, but sometimes those are the trickiest pieces. Not a lot of room to hide mistakes in. “Okay, you can look.”

He takes his blindfold off then looks down and tilts his head. I’m nervous. Why am I so anxious? “An infinity symbol?” He looks down at it. “It looks like ink.”

I smile, looking at it.

“It looks like it comes straight from a calligraphy pen. It’s really good. Like, really.” He watches it. “Why an infinity symbol?”

I smile wider. “Because it’s us. Meeting on the eighth day of the eighth month. My birthday is November eighth as well.” Ian groans. “What?”

“I don’t want to tell you.” He shakes his head, looking at the tattoo.

“Tell me!” I whine.

A deep sigh leaves his lips. “My birthday is January eighth.” My eyes blow wide. “No, don’t. Don’t! It doesn’t mean anything.”

How can he just say that! “It’s fate, Ian!”

“It’s coincidence.” He looks at the tattoo, and my eyes drop to his mouth when he drags his bottom lip between his teeth.

“That doesn’t sound very whimsical either.”

“You and whimsy.” He rolls his eyes.

“You know what would be whimsical as fuck?” I grin.

“What’s that?”

“If you kissed me.” He barks out a laugh. “Peak whimsy.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I’m also a great kisser.”