“Yeah, alright,” I say. “Let’s do it.”
“Are you serious?” she asks. “You’ll get matching tattoos with me?”
“Tyler, if you don’t know by now that I’ll do anything you want, then you haven’t been paying attention.”
****
We spent the rest of last night looking for tattoo shops in Raleigh, Tyler ultimately deciding on a place called Rock N’ Roll Tattoo because it, quote, “sounds meant to be.”
The bell above the door tinkles when we enter, and a few people look up and away, then double take when they realize who I am. I smile and wave as a curvy woman with neon pink and green split-dye hair pulled into messy buns at the top of her head approaches the front counter.
“Are you…Eric Ambrose?” she asks, her big, brown eyes wide in surprise.
“I am,” I say, shoving my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, because even after ten years of this, I’m still awkward as fuck every time someone recognizes me.
“Ho-lee shit,” she says, exaggerating the wordholyin the most comical way I’ve ever heard. “What can I do for y’all?”
“We’re here for matching tattoos,” I say, nodding to Tyler who is standing as still as a statue beside me. She raises her hand and wiggles her fingers in an adorably awkward wave. “We don’t have an appointment, but were hoping you’d be able to squeeze us in.”
“Absolutely!” the woman says, a bit too enthusiastically, and I chuckle. “What are you looking to get done?”
“Well, that’s the thing, we’re not exactly—” Tyler starts.
“Actually,” I say, cutting her off and turning to face her fully. “I kind of had an idea last night.” She raises a quizzical brow. “Thing is, I uh,” I nervously scratch at the back of my neck. “I want it to be a surprise.”
“A…surprise?” she says, blinking once.
“Yes.”
“You want my first tattoo to be asurprise?”
I nod.
“Do you trust me?”
She thinks it over for less than a second before she says, “Utterly and completely.”
I smile so wide my face hurts.
“Why don’t you go hang out over there,” I say, nodding to the seating area near the front windows. “And I’ll work with…” I trail off, looking back to the woman at the counter.
“Betty,” she says.
“…Betty to get it drawn up.” Tyler nods and heads to the front of the shop while I follow Betty back to her station. I explain the general idea of what I’m looking for, and we spend the next ten minutes designing and tweaking until I’m happy with it. A sun and crescent moon done in a minimalist style. It’s a simple design—delicate and beautiful and perfect—just like Tyler.
“Alright,” I say, walking back out to the front of the shop. “You ready?” She nods, smiling up at me as she stands and follows me to our stations. “You’re with Betty,” I say, nodding to the chair to our right where Betty is setting things up. “And I’ll be right here beside you with Kenzie.” She looks behind me and waves to my tattoo artist, a woman who looks to be a few years younger than Tyler, with light brown skin, curly brown hair, and kind eyes. “Since I got to choose what we’re getting, would you like to choose where they go?”
“Is it something that could fit here?” She asks, pointing to the inside of her right wrist. I nod. “And, if I remember correctly, you have some room there, too?” I pull the sleeve of my jacket up, exposing my wrist.
“I do, indeed.”
“Is that alright?”
“It’s a fairly sensitive area,” I say, removing my jacket and laying it across the seat I’ll be sitting in. “But if you’re feeling brave, then it’s good with me.”
“You’re saying it’ll hurt?” she asks.
“Pain is relative,” I say, shrugging. “I’ve been tattooed in places other people say hurts like hell, but it didn’t bother me.” She seems to think it over before declaring that her wrist is where she wants it. “There’s only one rule,” I say. “No peeking until we’re both done, okay?”
