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The tattoos on his arms and abdomen are on full display, and every time I see them I just want to run my tongue along the ink. I’ve done it several times, but it never seems like enough.
“I thought you saved those looks for me?” I joke, dropping back on my elbows and staring at him through the mirror.
“I’m here to see you, aren’t I?” He steps closer, taking a quick look around before sliding down to his knees pressing a kiss to my lips. “Sexy.”
I sneak a peek at the locker room entrance, and when all is clear I reach out to grip the back of Blair’s neck and pull him down for something longer—albeit clumsier because my mouth is upside down.
“You taste like peaches today,” I say as he pulls back, running a hand down my chest as he does.
“You taste like sweat,” he says, licking a stripe down my neck.
My eyes dart to the doorway again, and I gently push him back. “How’s your dad?” I ask, knowing that he spent his morning over there making sure everything worked and was at least mostly up to code.
“Miserable at best,” he mumbles, sitting back on his ankles. Never realized he was that flexible. Huh. “Wouldn’t talk to me so much as grunting and grumbling around.”
“No more beer bottle accidents?”
He shakes his head, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “It was a boring, frustrating morning. Which is why I decided to stop in. Kind of wanted to see your face.” His smile is almost shy, and I let my arms drop to lay back all the way, my head falling into his lap. “That alright?”
“Absolutely,” I say, and even though I know we’re pushing the edge of this secret when Shiloh could walk out any second, I can’t bring myself to mind. We talked the morning after our date about needing to sit down and decide if this is something serious for us—if it’s more than an exploration, and that it isn’t something we should hide from Shiloh. Something seems to be holding Blair back, but I can’t quite tell what it is.
He runs his fingers through my hair, not seeming to mind the sweat, and I’m surprised to see he hasn’t taken the polish off from the other night. He’s got this weird sense of self where he worries that his more ‘feminine’ side will be off putting to people, but that guard seems to be coming down little by little.
“What are you listening to?” he asks, not giving me a chance to answer before taking one of my wireless earbuds and putting it up to his own ear. He chuckles, giving me an amused grin. “K-Pop?”
Heat crawls up my face, and I press my lips together. “I went down a rabbit hole. They’re very motivating. Great beats. I was trying to look up… um… your tattoos. I forget what you called them. And somehow I ended up on K-Pop TikTok, and…”
Blair full on belly laughs, loud and bright with another kiss on my lips, my cheek, my chin. “Hangul. What were you trying to look up?”
“Um…” I look away, but that’s really hard to do with Blair leaning over me so I end up just squeezing my eyes closed. “I plead the fifth.”
“You aren’t on trial.” There’s humor in his voice. “Look at me, A.”
I shake my head, and then I feel the soft brush of his lips on my eyelids. “You were looking up your name, weren’t you?”
“Nope.”
“Liar. You want me to tattoo your name on the tree.”
“That sounds extremely narcissistic.”
Blair strokes his fingers over the stubble on my jaw. I don’t mind having a five o’clock shadow, but anything more bothers me, so I stay clean shaven more often than not.
“It doesn’t,” he says softly, the touch coaxing my eyes open. His smile is small but just as warm as when I caught him in the mirror. “You’re important to me. As A. As Atlas. You’re my family.”
“You have Noah but not me,” I blurt and immediately throw my hands over my eyes. “God that sounds whiny.”
“Atlas.” Blair grabs hold of my wrists and gently lowers my hands. “Do you want me to put your name on my body?”
I gulp, pulse pounding hard enough it echoes in my ears. “Only if you want it there.”
He nods, grips my face and kisses me again. It’s quick but sweet in the best way. “I’ll work on figuring out what I want. Don’t be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
He quirks a brow, and I groan, rolling off his lap and sitting up. “Okay, I’m a little jealous. But it’s not because we’re… you know…” I wave a hand between us. “You’re important to me. I thought I was important to you, too.”
I move to stand, because I feel like an asshole admitting this. Blair cares about me. He always has. I know this. I know that he’s taken care of me the same way he has everyone else, but what if that’s all it was? Another obligation because I’m Shiloh’s friend? It sounds ridiculous, and I feel ridiculous saying it out loud.
