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“Oh, yeah?”
With my ear to his chest, I can feel the rumble of his voice.
“Yeah.” I follow the path of a flame across his ribs. “Do they all mean something?”
I can feel him shrug, “Some of ‘em.”
Axel lowers his other hand, holding it out in front of us. “Roses for my grandma.” He lowers his hand so I can touch the inked petals. “She had the best rose garden. Big bushes lining her house.”
“You must’ve been close to her?”
His body shifts as he nods, “She was the shit.”
I snicker at his description. “Did she like the tattoos?”
He snorts, “She hated them.”
“Seriously?”
Axel parts his fingers and I slide mine between his before he lowers our joined hands to rest on his stomach.
“She said I ruined my skin. That no reasonable woman would marry me. And that she’d surely burn in hell since I did itin her name.” I can feel the eyeroll in his voice. “So when I saved up enough money I got the flames on my other arm, to represent me burning in hell with her.”
“Shut up!” I gasp. “Is that true?”
The hand on my shoulder lifts and I look up to see him displaying the flames. They’re artistic, beautiful even, and the fact that he got them to spite his grandma… I feel stupidly happy about the whole thing. Like it’s some sort of window into a younger Axel.
“I love that story,” I tell him, letting my eyes fall closed.
“Me too.” There’s a long moment of quiet and I’m sinking closer to sleep when Axel clears his throat. “Speaking of family. Brian decided to clean out his car today and found a stack of mail he’d forgotten about. Including an invitation to my cousin’s kid’s wedding.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. And it’s this weekend.”
My eyes fly open, “What?!” I try to sit up, but Axel keeps his arm in place around my shoulders. “This weekend? Like tomorrow is Friday, this weekend?”
“Yes, Maddie, just like that. And you’re coming with me.”
I chew on my lip, “Are you sure? Doesn’t it seem a little soon to go to your family wedding?”
“No.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.
“No…?” I repeat.
“No, it doesn’t seem too soon. I went to your best friend’s wedding.” He uses a perfectly reasonable tone with his perfectly reasonable argument.
“Hmm.”
“Plus,” he continues, “you knew more people at that wedding then I’ll know at this one.”
“How do you figure?”
“You knew literally everyone that was at that wedding.” This is true. “And I’ll know the few members of my immediate family that’ll be there, but most of the guests will be friends of the bride and groom. And they’re… well, they’re your age.”
I almost laugh, but then I realize that I’ll have to meet these people, and they’ll surely realize I’m much younger than him.
