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“Then let’s do it. I’ll be with you every second, okay? I’ll hold your hand, or whatever you need.”
I rest my forehead on his chest and suck in a breath, letting his comforting scent wash over and through me. As though somehow I can take some of his strength and imbibe it into my bones.
“I would never let anyone hurt you,” he says, running his hands over my arms before pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head.
I know that he speaks the truth. My fear of needles is rooted in the fact that I have been stuck with them, drugged and kidnapped more times than any one person should ever have to. I mean most people go through their entire lives without having that happen, right? Not me.
This must be hard for him too. It would be so much easier for him to tell me that I don’t need to do this. He could go and pay Gia for her time and tell her that I’ve changed my mind. Then he and I could curl up on the sofa and watch a Christmas movie. That would be the easy option. Easier for both of us. His instinct is to protect me. But he knows that what I need is for him to push me to be better. Stronger. Faster. No longer afraid. It’s why he and his younger brother almost kill me in the gym four times a week.
“You’ll hold me the whole time?” I whisper.
“Anything you need, angel.”
After Conor toldhis brothers he’d be accompanying me to the basement for a couple of hours, we headed down to his office in the nightclub which makes up the lower floors of this building. Gia is already set up when we walk inside.
“Hey,” she greets me, arching an eyebrow as she sees Conor walk into the room behind me. No doubt wondering why he’s here when I made her promise that this would be our secret.
“I need him to hold my hand,” I explain with a wince, feeling foolish that I’m being such a baby about a needle.
“I figured you might need some back up,” she says with a chuckle. “You couldn’t even watch Liam getting his last tattoo.”
“I know.” I place a hand over my mouth as the memory makes me want to hurl. He was in the chair for six hours and I had to leave after fifteen minutes.
“I’m proud of you, girl,” she adds. “Getting a tattoo when you’re terrified of needles is a big deal. You’re a fucking warrior.”
“Yeah, well I don’t feel like one,” I whisper as I eye her instruments.
A wave of nausea washes over me and I sway on my feet.
Conor’s warm hands grip my waist and he moves his lips close to m ear. “You’re okay. You got this.”
“Uh-huh,” I mumble, not as convinced as he is.
“Just sit yourself down here,” Gia says, patting the seat of Conor’s large office chair.
I look at the chair and then at her, and then her needles.
Fuck! I’m going to pass out.
Heat creeps over my skin and perspiration prickles over my brow. I stand rooted to the spot.
Gia looks past me at Conor. “How about I give Conor here a little ink to start with and you can watch exactly what happens this time. Okay?” she suggests.
“Yeah,” I breathe out the word. Knowing exactly what to expect will calm my nerves — won’t it?
“Where do you want it, big guy?” she says with a grin.
If I wasn’t about to throw up into her lap, I might give her some sass for flirting with my husband. Gia flirts with every single person she meets — no matter their gender or sexuality.
Conor pulls his t-shirt off over his head and tosses it onto his desk before taking a seat on the chair. He taps his collarbone, right next to the tattoo of my name. “Right here. Give me a heart next to Jessie.”
She grins at me as she picks up her artists needle. “You watching closely?”
I step closer to Conor and he reaches for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. When Gia pierces his skin for the first time, I flinch but Conor doesn’t even flicker. He winks at me as he squeezes my hand in his.
“Just a scratch. It doesn’t go all that deep, see?” he nods toward Gia’s hand as she draws over and over the tiny heart.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
