“I have fun when I’m out with you.” Cassie felt herself pout, quite unbecoming of a middle-aged professional. She was middle-aged, wasn’t she?
Rachel bounced on her heels and smiled widely. “You do! You have bags full of the stuff. Which is why we should do it more often, and it’s why you’re going to get your first tattoo right now.”
Rachel tugged her toward the desk, where a cute short-haired woman looked simultaneously bored out of her mind and vaguely amused by their performance. No doubt, hundreds of tattoo-tourists passed through these doors without having the courage to permanently transform their skin. And Cassie would proudly be one of those people. “While I appreciate your commitment to the cause,” she leaned closer to Rachel and whispered, “and while I’m sure this is a perfectly hygienic establishment, if I ever get a tattoo, it’ll have to mean something.” She stepped back and gestured to Rachel’s whole body. “Like yours. You’ve got a whole story going on, with your sleeves, and your back, and your legs. And it’s wonderful, it really is. But that’s a you thing.”
“And staying away from germs and diseases is a you thing,” Rachel said.
“No. I’m pretty sure that’s an everyone-who-wants-to-live-a-long-life thing.” Although the thought of catching a deadly virus from an unclean tattoo needle was another good reason to stay away from them.
“What about being spontaneous?”
God, Rachel’s persistence was dialed high today. “I can be spontaneous. Just yesterday, I spontaneously chose churro-flavored ice cream instead of my regular Cherry Garcia.” Cassie looked at the woman behind the counter, who was sporting a more amused grin now. She was rather cute, really. She was rocking the super cool queer vibe, though Cassie doubted a highly practical doctor would hold her interest for longer than the average ZimTak video. A wicked image crossed her mind when the woman opened her mouth to speak, and Cassie spotted a ball on the end of her tongue.
“You shouldn’t force your girlfriend into something she clearly doesn’t want.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, Zed,” Rachel said with far too much horror in her voice for Cassie’s liking. “Also, she’s no girl. She’s thirty-five, an accomplished doctor at the Spring Willow Memorial hospital, and she owns her own apartment in an exclusive part of town. In spite of the fact that she is currently acting like a complete square, she’s actually a lot of fun, especially when she’s buzzed. And she’s totally single.”
Cassie choked on her mortification. “Rach.” That was all she could manage. Any potential additional response melted away the instant Zed focused her intense gaze on Cassie and her smile turned from mildly amused to “I’m a hot sex god; let’s get to it on a tattoo chair, and I’ll make your wildest fantasies come true.”
Rachel nudged her. “Earth to Cassandra.” She waved her hand in front of Cassie’s face. “Zed asked if you’d be going to Infinite over the weekend.”
“What?” She narrowed her eyes at Rachel. There was little chance she could look at Zed without thinking more impure thoughts about the piece of metal in her mouth. “Uh, no. I mean, I can’t. I’ve got a double shift.” She mentally flipped through the list of doctors who might be interested in swapping shifts on the weekend before Independence Day. It didn’t take long; there was no one on it. She’d only been scheduled to work Saturday until this morning, then Fischer begged her to cover his Sunday, and she’d acquiesced. Damn it.
“I’m there most weekends,” Zed said.
“Maybe another time?” It had been a while since Cassie’s last confession to the lesbian gods, and no matter how many quick orgasms her trusty bedside vibrator provided, they were no match for the real thing. And boi, Zed was the real thing. It was times like these when she idly questioned a career that kept her social life to a bare minimum.
Zed nodded and gave Cassie another panty-melting gaze before she turned to Rachel.
“Since you’ve failed to convince your hot friend to get a tattoo, should we get the lines down on yours?”
“Yay, let’s do it.” Rachel pulled Cassie beyond the desk and into the back parlor area.
Three victims were in various stages of torture, their pained expressions solidifying Cassie’s determination not to get a tattoo, or certainly not to get one without copious amounts of sensation-numbing alcohol in her bloodstream. Drinking to excess had never held much appeal, especially given her past, but it served a purpose here and there. If she ever got the nerve, if she could ever quell her anxieties over how sanitary the average tattoo shop was, a half-bottle of something around a hundred proof would be one of those occasions.
While Zed prepared a table, Rachel leaned into Cassie. “Do you really have a double shift this weekend? I thought we were going out.”
Cassie glanced at Zed, busy preparing her tattoo gun and ink, and once again rued her decision to help out a fellow doc. “We were. But Fischer put a guilt trip on me about spending quality time with his wife and kids, and I folded.” In her defense, his family was really cute, and in his shoes, she would do the same.
Rachel snorted. “Having a family doesn’t make his non-work time any more precious than yours, Cass. You need to squeeze the sponge too. You work too hard. I don’t want my favorite doctor burning out, and neither do the rest of the nurses.” She bumped Cassie’s shoulder. “You know you’re everyone’s favorite, don’t you?”
Cassie smiled. Being their favorite wasn’t important; she wanted the nurses to feel appreciated since they often did the lion’s share of the work while the doctors got all the kudos. But the warm feeling that spread across her chest let her know it mattered a little. “That’s nice to hear.”
“And that’s not just because you anonymously donated your Christmas bonus and had HR split it between all of us.” Rachel winked and gave her a conspiratorial grin.
“What?” she asked, trying to sound surprised or innocent or anything other than busted.
“Your poker face needs some serious practice, Cass. So you would have met up with Zed? I knew she’d be perfect for you.”
“And you were right, as usual. That’s why you’re my self-appointed wing woman.” Cassie appreciated the clunky segue back to slightly more comfortable territory. Her growing physical attraction to Zed as she watched her muscles flex wasn’tthatcomfortable. But it was preferable to discussing her helping the nursing team with money, something everyone needed more than words in the growing financial crisis. Eve at HR had promised to keep it quiet, but Rachel had a way of getting information out of even the most reticent of prey. Eve never stood a chance; once Rachel put her mind to something, nothing got in the way of her goal. Cassie just hoped it wasn’t common knowledge. She didn’t want the other doctors to cast judgment on her motives or for the nurses to feel obliged to treat her differently. She resolved to talk to Eve when she was next on duty.
Zed beckoned them over and handed Rachel her iPad. “What do you think? Is this what you had in mind?”
Rachel tapped her fingers to Zed’s forehead. “This—this is why I will only ever let you ink me.” She looked again at the sketch on Zed’s tablet. “It’s exactly what I want.”
Cassie peered over Rachel’s shoulder to get a closer look at the morivivi flower and bee design. “Wow, that’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it? Have you changed your mind?” Rachel asked.
