Hanna’s nose scrunched as she looked between them.
“Me?”
“Yeah, if you want it.” Milo’s green eyes caught hers. “No pressure.”
She leaned toward Jenner, the petals sloping gently around his massive hand. It was delicate, the lines soft, and it would look pretty on her. Bastard.
“Where would you put it?” Hanna asked Milo.
He smirked, sliding his hand over her stomach and landing against her sternum, just below her breasts.
“Just one idea,” he mumbled as her breath hitched. “If you’re comfortable with it. If not, the shoulder could be cute? Ankle?”
“Fine,” she said, his lips falling into a frown. “But like, actually fine.”
He laughed and laid down on his stomach. Jenner wrapped fresh tape around his needle and laid out the ink. Hanna moved to sit back down, but Milo’s hand caught hers.
“You’re not going to hold my hand? What if I’m nervous?”
Hanna snorted, her eyes falling over the dozens of pieces he’d collected.
“You’re a problem.”
“I know,” he whispered, squeezing her fingers. She dragged the chair over and sat beside him opposite Jenner, who could not have cared less about the weird dynamic he was an unwilling participant in.
“What percentage of those did you do?” Hanna asked as Jenner rounded the vase’s mouth.
“Hmm, probably ninety? Few new ones since I left the Bay, it looks like.”
“You’re prettier, don’t worry,” Milo said.
“Don’t flirt with me, you know you aren’t my type.”
Hanna folded her arms. “And how many flowers have you tattooed on his plus ones?”
Jenner snorted, wiping away a bead of black ink.
“This is a first,” he said.
“Really?”
“I didn’t know Milo spoke to women in public until tonight,” Jenner said, switching the needle to a shading tip. “But he’s full of surprises.”
That, Hanna could certainly agree with. Milo turned his head to lay on his free arm, sinking his stare into hers. The silence while Jenner worked wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t intolerable. She could handle it.
That was progress, wasn’t it?
Jenner wiped away another pool of ink and leaned back to examine his work.
“Alright, brother. You know the drill.” He stretched a piece of plastic wrap over the flowers, taping the edges down. “Go sign her release forms while I reset.”
Milo slowly pulled his shirt over his fresh tattoo, following Hanna back to the lobby. He pointed toward the receptionist and asked for a release form, handing over a wad of cash.
“I can pay for mine,” Hanna said.
“Nah.” It was all he had to say.
Hanna scrawled her name across a tablet and handed it back to the receptionist. She turned to Milo.
