“You need someone to hold your hand.” His smirk just about pushed me over the edge. I wanted to trace my tongue along the curve of his lips. Oh, I was going to hell again for thinking about that.
“I want…you,” I whispered, the admission slipping free before common sense and decency could stop it. “I mean, I want you there. I figure you have experience and won’t be all judgy.”
“What does your boyfriend think?”
“He doesn’t know.” I raised my chin. Be fierce.
“And where are you planning on going?”
I shrugged. “I figured I’d go into Dothan and see if I could find a place.”
“Jesus Christ, Paisley. You’re talking about getting a needle repeatedly jabbed into your skin for some permanent artwork, and you think you’ll just find a place? Is that all you think you’re worth? Some random shop with their light on? This isn’t getting your ears pierced. This is forever.”
“It’s not like I’m going to pick some cliché rose out of a portfolio. I know what I want, and I’m going, whether or not you come with me.” Please don’t make me go alone.
His jaw flexed, and then he sighed. “I’ll take you, just wait.” He tapped a few times on his cell phone and set it to his ear. “Hey, Matt. You around? Nawh, man, it’s good. I’m loving it. I’m actually bringing someone to see you if you’ve got an opening. Cool? Yeah. Be there soon.” Another tap and the phone was back to his pocket.
“You have a tattoo artist on call?”
He shrugged with a grin. “You don’t. Hence why you’re here, right?”
“You ready, Paisley?” Matt asked, sliding into his chair behind where I reclined on my side, my shirt tucked into my bra. I nodded, unable to say much. This was definitely not what I expected. Everything was sparkling clean. It was all so…sanitary.
“Aren’t you going to hold my hand?” I looked where Jagger hovered next to me. I felt his gaze on my bare stomach as surely as if his fingers were on my skin.
His grin was contagious. “Do you need a little support?”
I nodded my head, my lower lip caught between my teeth. He took my hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Ok, I’m ready,” I said.
Matt held a mirror to my side so I could see where he’d stenciled my soon-to-be tattoo. “Is this exactly what you want?”
“Though she be but little, she is fierce. Yes, that’s perfect.”
The gun started, and I jumped. “Let’s not do that, okay?” he gently said.
I nodded and squeezed Jagger’s hand so tight I was pretty sure I’d bust a couple bones. He took it in stride. “Look at me, not at him.”
I turned my head away as the gun touched my skin. It wasn’t too bad, just an annoying scratch. I could handle this. “Thank you for coming with me.”
He brushed a loose strand of hair out of my eyes. “No problem. You a Shakespeare fan?” he asked, motioning to my tattoo with a nod of his head.
My mouth popped open. “You know this is Shakespeare?”
“Jeez, think a little higher of me. I’ve read A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“And you remember this exact line?”
One side of his mouth rose in a smirk, and my belly clenched. Did he have to look like that? “Sure I do. Act three, scene two, Helena talking to Hermia. Would you like the context?”
“Wow.”
He laughed, the sound turning my muscles to liquid. “Don’t be too impressed. I have a photographic memory.”
The needle’s itch started to burn. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”
His expression fell. “You have no clue.”
I tried to concentrate on the blue of his eyes instead of the pain that quickly grew to thought consuming. “So this photographic memory, did it help you in school?”
“My degree is in physics, so it didn’t hurt.”
“You have a degree in physics and you’re remodeling my storage room?” I hoped that didn’t sound as condescending out loud as it did in my head. “I mean, not that your work isn’t meaningful…”
“I like motion. It’s easy to understand, easy to predict once you know the rules.” He leaned back, keeping his hand in mine.
I wanted to move away from the persistent burn in my side but knew better. “How much more?”
Jagger took a good look at my tattoo. “About a quarter of the way.”
I sucked in my breath. I could do this. It wasn’t too bad, but it sure as fire wasn’t pleasant.
He smiled softly. “Need a distraction?”
I sank my teeth into my lower lip. “Questions?”
“What do you want to know?”
“You’re letting me go first? Really?” Man, that gun was beginning to hurt.
“Well, I’m not the one getting tattooed, so I’ll have mercy on you.” He ran the stud in his tongue along his teeth, and I stared, transfixed. “Paisley?”
“Oh, question. Right. I know you’re all anti-relationship right now, but don’t you miss having a girlfriend?” Oh my God! That was not supposed to come out of my mouth.
He played with the tongue stud again for a moment. I was fast learning that it meant he was thinking. “I’ve never been a relationship guy. I’ve learned that the people you let in the closest have the power to hurt you the most, which doesn’t really push me toward relationships.”