Stay freaking calm.
She smiles. “You know, tulips are my—”
“Favorite flowers,” I finish for her.
I grab a pair of nitrile gloves as she stands by the tattoo chair. “Why haven’t you called me Freckles again?” she asks shyly. I turn around slowly, almost unsure I heard her right. I give her a confused look and she clears her throat. “The other night at the shelter.” A blush comes on at the mention of that night. “You called me that, and then when I had my bad dream, but you haven’t since then.”
I grab the portable table, hoping it shows I’m not nervous. “I didn’t know you wanted me to.” She raises an eyebrow and I switch on the machine. “Sit down,Freckles.”
The cutest reddish hue starts on her cheeks under those adorable freckles that I’ve been practically staring at all day. She sits and looks at me, worried. “Wait, I haven’t even told you what I want.”
I chuckle as she really doesn’t know how much I pay attention to her.
My thumb rubs over the back of her hand, the black color from the glove contrasting with her slightly tan skin. “Ursa Major constellation on the back of your shoulder, right?” Her eyes widen almost comically. A smile starts on my face and I bite down on the corner of my lip. “I heard you with Mom that one day you came over.” Her jaw drops and she shakes her head, almost confused. My heart stutters as to why she would ever be surprised that I remember everything about her. I run a finger over the healed scar from when the fence scratched her, sighing at the conflict running around in my mind, taking a deep breath.
I quickly fix up the stencil, already knowing how I want the design to look, and before I can even show her, she grips my hand and gives me a shy smile. “I trust you.” Three words that I’ve beenwaiting to hear again ever since we reconnected. Well, besides thoseotherones, ones that I would say to her every moment of my life if I could.
“Relax for me, okay?” I gulp at seeing the bare skin of her back, and for a bit, I freak out. Taking a deep breath, I place my hand, curving around, trying to be respectful. Once the stencil goes over her skin, I push through, the idea coming to life. I grab the tattoo machine as she stays as still as possible. “Ready?” I ask, and she nods in confirmation. Touching the needle to her skin while holding a breath, she stays as still as can be. I move my thumb in comforting circles along her shoulder. She relaxes, causing me to smile as I focus on the outline. There’s nothing but the buzzing, but I find the silence rather comforting. It isn’t awkward, but therapeutic. I smile as I trace another line, remembering when I sketched this exact same design for it to be tattooed on ...
She tenses slightly and I remove the needles from her skin, the reddening much more apparent. I take a breath. “You alright?” My voice comes out much hoarser than I intended, she doesn’t answer, but nods regardless. I place the machine back in its holder. “We can st—”
She shakes her head. “No.” I let out a chuckle at her stubbornness. “I’m good.”
I nod and return to her back. I keep going with the design, and she doesn’t move a muscle after that. I finish the last bit of shading about an hour later and then switch off the machine. She sits up slightly. I spread ointment across the fresh ink, marveling at it.
“Can I see it?” she asks, and I point over to the mirrors Randall has in the room. She stands and walks toward them; I wait anxiously for her thoughts about it. She looks at me and gives this small smile. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers. Afterward, I apply an adhesive tattoo bandage, biting my lip a little.
“Can I show you something?” Nerves course through me and I run my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands. She stands with a focused expression, moving closer to me, but leaves enough spacebetween us. “Remember when you asked how many tattoos I had?” She nods, one of her well-defined eyebrows arched. “Remember how I said I would show them to you one day?” I study her face to see if that’s still something she wants. I look toward the door, hoping Chase or Jamie—or anyone else—doesn’t burst in here. She nods once more, and I inhale deeply before reaching behind me with one hand, pulling off my shirt.
She gasps when the shirt falls and she drinks me all in. I’m buzzed off the way she’s looking at me. She inches toward me, almost as if asking for permission, and I give it to her. She scrutinizes me as my breathing crescendos, but I make sure to keep my eyes on her. Her eyes flit between the drawings on my skin as if she doesn’t know where to look first. She settles for a quote on my bicep and I shiver involuntarily. My skin ripples under her touch as she looks for something to further analyze before settling on the tattoo between my pecs. Her mouth drops open, a breathless sound escaping her. Her eyes widen slightly before she looks up at me. My eyes hood at the expression swimming in hers.
“Is that . . .”
I nod as she trails off. She traces the same Ursa Major constellation she now carries. I got mine a couple of days after I heard her say what her next tattoo would be. I added to mine a small cursive “B” interwoven in the stars and lines—something I didn’t put in hers.
“This looks fresher than the others,” she notes, and I let out a nervous chuckle, wanting to wrap my arms around her, but don’t want to risk putting pressure on her new tattoo. She places her head on my chest, and I lay my head on top of hers, melting in the small action of affection.
“Freckles?” She looks up and I give her an honest smile. “It doesn’t matter what girl wants my attention. Ionlylook at you. You’re the only one who will always have it.”Have me.I hope she finally understands that it doesn’t matter if Olivia or Vanessa or some other girl wants to flirt with me. My heart belongs to her, it always has,even when she broke it all those years ago. Her eyes fill with an emotion I can’t read, and she hugs me tightly, my arms tightening around her. We stay like that and she probably can hear my heartbeat pulse rapidly under her ear. She pulls back, her face a breath away from mine.
“Liam?” She sighs while I hum in question. “We have so much to talk about.” My shoulders sink with the truthful statement.
“I know,” I add before she slowly blinks.
“I’m so confused ...” She starts to push away, but I don’t let her. “I don’t even know what we are to each other anymore.”
I sigh. “I know it’s hard to trust me after what happened. I hate that we were dumb teenagers and didn’t fight for our friendship before, but I wanna at least try. We’re friends now—best friends before—maybe we can try to get there again, if ...” I trail off, not wanting to voice even the thought that she thinks differently. Hesitation blooms on her face and stays there as she contemplates my offer. Her eyes refuse to meet mine. Little cracks make their way down my heart the longer I wait, but I don’t dare rush her.
“Promise I won’t ever lose you again,” she almost begs for reassurance, and my heart tugs.
The way I felt for those five years—hell, the day I found out she had shut me out—courses through my mind. I remember all the times when all I wanted was those alluring eyes to connect with mine.
It comes with no hesitation. “I promise.”
She sighs, relieved, and stands on her tiptoes while I slouch so she doesn’t have to reach so much. Placing her forehead on mine, she whispers, “I promise you’ll never lose me either.”
Her words settle deep in my bones, soothing the slight cracks in my soul. I close my eyes in bliss as a trace of salt and summer overwhelms my senses, content with what we promised. I push down my true feelings where they won’t bubble up right now. They stay locked up in my imagination, a place where I can fantasize about her being mine, and only mine.Dreaming of the day when I can finally be honest with my best friend about how I’m in love with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
