I want to tear the ink off him.
Kiss it.
Cover it.
Keep him safe.
Run.
Usually, once I finish a song,
it’s not mine anymore.
It’s ripped out of me,
becomes someone else’s.
Looped on radios,
played in the middle of the night,
cut into trailers for movies about characters
who aren’t even real.
They don’t belong to me after they’re gone.
They never have.
But this?
It’s the first time one of my songs found its way back to me.
It tucked itself safe under his skin, the two keeping each other warm, and waited, believing I’d show up one day.
We’re two people sharing a secret,
but only one of us knows.
I reach for it, my hand fucking trembling.
I brush my thumb over the ink.
“What’s your tattoo mean?”
I feel his breath get stuck in his lungs,
right under my hand.
I feel his gaze on me, staring.
I feel him fucking thinking.
I feeleverythingin this second.
“Uh…” The nerves take over his voice.
“It’s from that Jonah Wren song?—
