“No, it’s not that. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry,”
I am genuinely not bothered by their bond or their closeness. Maybe It’s just my insecurities again making me question my place.
“For the record, you’re my favorite person, my top priority, my number one. I know and love that your heart is big enough for three people, but mine? It belongs only to you. Always,” he promises softly, leaning in for a kiss.
His words banish all the insecure, sad feelings in my mind, and my whole body flushes with warmth.
The kiss is tender, almost languid, and I savor every moment. Joshua cradles my face, and when we part, I whisper against his lips, “Forever.”
FORTY-TWO
Xander wentto work early today because he said he needed to finish a sketch he didn’t complete yesterday. As I make my way over to Darkened Dermis at nine a.m. with a coffee in hand for both of us, I see the space is dark, but the door is unlocked.
I frown as I enter, noticing a light in the back. Setting the coffees on the register counter, I walk toward it. Xander is sitting on the small tattoo stool with his back to me. His chest is bare, and he’s in front of a large mirror. The tattoo needle in his hand is buzzing, and as I step closer, I can see in the mirror that he’s tattooing himself.
His eyes lift from his work, and our gazes lock in the reflection.
“Hey,” I greet, feeling like I’ve walked in on something private. “It’s already nine. But I can step back outside if you need quiet to finish that.”
“It’s fine,” he grumbles. “I’ll be done in a sec. Could you please lock the front?”
I frown but say, “Sure,” before walking to the front door to lock it.
I wonder if he’s concerned about a client walking in on him while he tattoos himself.
Is that even allowed? I’ve never seen someone tattooing themself before.
When I return, Xander has set the tattoo gun on the table and is wiping his chest with a cloth. “Would you mind applying some cream to it for me?”
“Of course,” I say, slipping on a black glove from his stack.
Squeezing a dollop of cream onto my finger, I step in front of him. He parts his knees, allowing me to stand closer, and his hands naturally find the back of my thighs. I grin at him, and he smirks right back.
I reach out to spread the cream to his chest and freeze. There, on his right pec, amidst the dark that represents the abyss of his soul, is my name. In a delicate and beautiful font, written in a shade of gray that almost blends into the black, yet you can clearly readCarolina. It’s not as boldly highlighted asClayon his left pectoral.
It’s more…shadowy?
“Xander,” I whisper, lifting my gaze to meet his.
He leans forward, kissing my lips softly, his hands gripping my thighs. “He is the light of my heart, forever illuminating my life. But you, you are the shadow of my soul. With you beside me, our souls intertwined in the abyss, the darkness doesn’t seem so daunting anymore.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I reach up, pulling him closer for a deep kiss. When we part, tears stream down my cheeks. “Xander,” I murmur. “You didn’t have to do this.”
He takes my hand, the one with the cream on my gloved finger, and guides it to his chest, effectively applying the cream himself using my hand.
“You mean as much to me as he does, just in a different, unique way. I wanted you to know that. To be sure of it,” he explains, releasing my hand.
“Xander, I—” I start again, but he holds my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger.
“Just say, ‘Thank you,’” he commands.
Looking into his eyes, I whisper, “I love you.”
His lips curve into a smile. “I’ll take that,” he relents, drawing me in for another kiss. “I love you too,” he murmurs against my lips.
He pulls the glove off my hand and stands, emphasizing the height difference between us once more. “Let me clean this up quickly, and then we can start on yours.”
I blink up at him in surprise. “Mine?”
