Right there, on his left hand. The ring finger.
There was a small tattoo in the shape of a moon, and next to it were two stars.
My breath caught.
“Jeremy.” I stepped back and grabbed his hand before he could hide it. “What the hell is this?”
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t notice it before. You have so many tattoos I-I didn’t see this one until right now.”
“Luna,” he said in warning.
My throat closed up, the words evaporating before they could form.
“This—”
“It was always you. In my life. In my head. There was never gonna be anyone else.” He turned toward me fully, that black hair flopping forward, his jaw clenched. “You were mine when we were kids. You were mine when I was at my lowest. You’re mine now.”
The air left my lungs. Not in a swoony, swept-off-my-feet way. In aholy-shit-I-wasn’t-ready-for-thiskind of way.
“You hated saying that out loud, didn’t you?” I tried to joke, tried to pull us back into safer waters. But the words landed flat.
He didn’t smile. “No,” he said. “I hated that I waited this long.”
“What’re we talking about?”
I turned to find Dirks standing a few feet away, blonde hair falling into his face, those stupidly beautiful blue eyes locked on us. Still dressed in his pregame suit, all sharp lines and clean-cut perfection.
Without thinking, I held up Jer’s hand—the one I was still gripping for dear life—and jabbed a finger toward the ink.
“Look,” I said, wide-eyed. “Lookat this.”
Dirks stepped closer and bent down, squinting as Jer groaned audibly and tried to yank his hand back. I held it firm.
“Don’t even think about it,” I hissed, muscles locked.
Dirks blinked. “Well, shit.”
“Two stars. One Moon.” I said. “I’m the moon. One star for him. One for you.”
“I get it, Luna girl,” Dirks said gently, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I do.”
He looked at Jer and nodded once. “Thanks for coming to the game, man.”
That was it.
I dropped Jer’s hand and threw both of mine up in the air, spinning in place like I was about to launch into space.
“That’s it?Thanks for coming to the game? Not—oh, I don’t know—holy shit, Jer, you tattooed Luna on your ring finger, which basically means you’re eternally married to her, and also there are TWO STARS because apparently I’m there, too, and we’re all just one big permanent cosmic clusterfuck?!”
Jer gave me a slow, almost patronizing look. “Honey,” he said, dragging the word out like he was ninety and trying to calm down a squirrel on meth. “Let’s get you home.”
“This is wild. You’re both wild. I’m panicking! This is full-on, heart-palpitations, jaw-tight, chest-on-fireinsanity. I have no air. There is no air in here.”
Dirks stepped closer and cupped my face gently, thumbs brushing the apples of my cheeks. “It’s a tattoo. It’s not news.You’ve always been his. You’ve always been mine. This”—he tipped his forehead against mine—“this isn’t sudden, Lune. This is just us finally catching up to what’s been true for a long time.”
My throat burned.
