“It’s sad. Is that how you feel about Felix and Zach?” That makesmesad. My best friends deserve ultimate happiness, and for the man they’re in love with to think forever, not “for now.” Avery deserves better than that too.
Avery hesitates. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s not—stop trying to change the subject. Of course, I don’t think that. Iwantit to be forever. But you can never really know, can you?”
“I know,” I say quietly. I’ve never once thought about a personal tattoo with anyone else I’ve dated, not even Sadie, who was the most serious besides Grady. That was nothing like this, and I know with complete certainty that nothing else ever will be.
Avery deflates. “Lake, c’mon, you can’t know that. I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret that you did this.”
“I won’t.” The only thing I’ve ever been as sure about is choosing Grady in the first place. “Are you going to wake up one day and regret the canvas you made of your chest?”
“That’s not even close to the same thing. Those are personal tome, not anyone else.”
“This is personal to me.” What could be more personal than the man I’m going to call my husband soon?
Avery sandwiches my face between his palms. “Sometimes I forget just how damn naive you are.”
“A compliment, surely,” I say dryly.
“I love and hate how deeply you feel. I wish you protected your heart better.”
What do I say to that? I just smile in response instead. He’s wrong if he thinks I need to be protected from Grady. I don’t.
“Look—can we at least negotiate on the tattoo itself?”
“I’m not putting his name on me.” I don’t fully understand how that even came into the argument.
“Because his badge number is different than that?”
“Well, one is numbers, and one is letters.” That seems like a pretty big difference.
“I know he’s, like, married and shit to his job, but that’s not who you’re marrying. It’s not who you’re in love with. It’s just one facet of him, and one day he’ll retire.”
Okay, I guess I can see his point. “What would you suggest?”
“I have no idea. Loren?” Avery turns to the man in question. “Suggestions?”
He points to his lips and pretends to attempt—and fail—at opening them.
“You threw the imaginary key you used to lock your lips on the ground; I’m not picking it up,” Avery says.
“Don’t look at me,” Britt says immediately. She’s not even looking at us, concentrating on whatever is on the hundred-year-old computer that Loren should have replaced years ago.
“I didn’t see what direction you threw it,” I say innocently.
“You want something personal, correct?” Loren asks, rubbing his chin. “Not a name and not a badge number. I would suggest something that means something to you, and to Grady, but something with elegant subtlety?"
That could be anything. Also, I don’t even know what elegant subtlety looks like. “He doesn’t like pancakes.”
“So you want to put a pancake on your ass?” Avery says with a smirk. “Nice.”
“I’m not putting anything on my ass.”
“Perhaps something that is about the two of you together?” Loren says lightly. “A special date? Or a location. Something to that effect.”
Yeah, Grady probably wouldn’t see the romantic gesture in a pancake tattoo. I’d get it if flavours could be infused in tattoos. It would have to be somewhere I could lick it, though. On second thought, a pancake-flavoured tattoo would be better on Grady because then I could lick it all the time. Way better idea. Would he get one for me? Maybe if I asked nicely.
