"Yes."
"You're out of your fucking mind," he says, but he's already opening his case. "But I've always appreciated the level of crazy you Blackwoods bring to the table."
For the next two hours while Reese is in class, he gives me the crash fucking course. Even letting me practice on a small fucking patch of untouched skin on the back of the calf.
"Look at that," Nico says, examining my work. "Not totally fucked up. You might have a knack for this."
I'm about to respond when I hear the front door open,followed by the sound of Reese dropping her dance bag in the entryway. My pulse quickens as her footsteps approach the living room.
Reese freezes in the doorway, her eyes going wide as she takes in the scene: Nico's tattoo equipment spread across the coffee table, my hand holding the machine, and what looks like a mini tattoo studio set up in our living room.
"Uh, hi?" she says, her gaze darting between me and Nico.
"This is Nico," I say, setting down the machine.
Nico stands, extending his hand to Reese with a smile that's a little too appreciative for my taste. "So you're the famous Reese. I've heard a lot about you."
"Oh hi, my bad for interrupting." She shakes his hand, a small smile playing on her lips. "I've heard of you before. Your work is amazing."
"Thanks, sweetheart." Nico's eyes flick to me, clearly enjoying how tense I'm getting. "Your boy here has been practicing. Not half bad for a beginner."
Reese's eyes widen as understanding dawns on her face. "Wait," she says, excitement building in her voice as she looks at me. "Does this mean tattoos?! Like, right now?"
"If you want," I say, trying to sound casual despite the way my heart is fucking pounding. The thought of marking her skin, of leaving something permanent on her body that she'll carry forever—it's making me feel possessive in a way I can barely control.
"Holy shit!" She rushes over, looking at all the equipment with wide eyes. "I've been wanting one for years but never had the guts to actually do it."
Nico chuckles, rolling down his pant leg. "Well, you're in luck, sweetheart. You've got two options today: let me do it—" he winks at her, "—or let this crazy motherfucker who's had exactly two hours of training try his hand."
Reese's eyes snap to mine, filled with confusion and something else—something that makes my blood run hot. "You're learning to tattoo? For me?"
"I'm not letting some random asshole touch you for hours," I say, the words coming out rougher than intended.
Nico scoffs at the random but he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face that makes me want to fucking punch him.
"Whadya want?" I ask, my eyes locked on hers, heart fucking hammering in my chest at the idea of permanently marking her skin.
She looks at me with those big hazel eyes, teeth catching her bottom lip in a way that makes my cock twitch. "You know me so well. Surprise me."
I nod, gesturing toward the chair we've set up. "Sit down."
She practically bounces over to the chair, excitement radiating off her in waves as she settles in. Nico just leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching us with that knowing smirk on his face. He's not saying shit, but I can tell he's enjoying the hell out of this little scene.
I grab my phone, fingers flying across the screen as I text Nico what I want. Something that represents her—represents us—without being too fucking obvious.
Five minutes later, Nico hands me a stencil, eyebrows raised like he's impressed with my choice. I take it from him,heart in my throat as I prep her skin, cleaning the inside of her wrist with alcohol.
"This might be cold," I warn her, pressing the stencil against her skin. When I pull it away, the outline is there—delicate but meaningful.
"Is the wrist good?" I ask, voice rougher than I intended. "Or do you want it somewhere else?"
"No, wrist is perfect," she says immediately, keeping her eyes on my face instead of looking down. "I trust you. I want it to be a true surprise."
Fuck, those words hit me like a physical blow. She trusts me. Even with something permanent, something she'll carry forever, she trusts me to make that choice.
"It'll hurt," I warn her, setting up the machine. "But I'll be as gentle as I can."
"I can take it," she says, a stubborn tilt to her chin making my chest tight.
