Anything for you.
For the first time in my life, I believe it.
I trust Ziggy will never hurt me, and he trusts me to do the same.
EPILOGUE
THREE MONTHS LATER
ZIGGY
When Kennedy asked me to come with him to Wayward, I wasn’t interested. First, people. No, thanks. Second, I really didn’t want to run into Caroline again. He says she’s backed off now, but I don’t want to deal with the awkwardness of coming face-to-face with her.
I never thought we’d end up here.
“Hold tight,” Kennedy says, grip crushing my hand. “We can get through this.”
I don’t know where thiswebusiness is coming from when he’s the one in the chair. Trying to be sympathetic, I pat his hand, reminding him that I’m here. He’s the one who decided to do this, not me, and I’m so curious to see if he’ll go through with it.
If he does, I foresee a lot of fun in our future.
“You ready?” the woman asks, doing her best not to look amused.
He lets out a gust of air. “Ready.”
Then she leans in, lines up with the dot on his nipple … and shoves the needle through.
A shriek echoes and dies in Kennedy’s throat, my hand going numb from the pain. She sets the end on the barbell, him panting through it, and he turns wide eyes on me.
“How the fuck did you let them do that to your dick? Don’t get me wrong, I’m reaping the benefits, butfuck me.”
A laugh slips out. He’s so dramatic. I ignore that he just announced to a complete stranger that I have my junk pierced and drop a kiss on his forehead. He’s got this. The big baby.
“Still want the other one done?” his piercer asks, her amusement finally winning the battle.
“Yes. I think. Ah … yep. Yes. Do it.”
This time, I peel my hand out of his and offer him the other one. Might as well even things up.
And this time when the piercing goes through, his shriek escapes and fills the small shop.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to …fucking ouch!”
“Yeah,” the woman agrees. “It’s painful. Getting your junk or your tongue done hurts more, I think, but nipples aren’t pleasant.”
“Why does anyone do this?” he asks, sounding faint.
“Body positivity.” Her tone takes on a sly note. “And for a lot of people, it makes them more sensitive.”
Kennedy’s grumbling when he gets up out of the chair, and on a whim, I decide to support him in this. After all, it’s weeks before we can have fun with them, so I might as well get this over and done with too.
I slip into his vacated chair.
They wear matching confused expressions.
Because I’m apparently not being obvious enough, I strip off my shirt.
“You want yours done too?” she asks.
