“What? No! that’s insane Danny” I replied.
It truly was insane even by Danny’s standards. “Come on Pickles, don’t be a baby.” He teased.
I used to despise that name he gave me on those steps years ago, but it had started to grow on me. I had come to rebrand it in my mind as a term of endearment.
“I’m not a baby, I’m just drunk and don’t want to do something I will regret!” I spat back.
“Come on Pickles, live a little, tell you what, whatever you get I will get the same thing in the same place, my treat, think of it as my birthday gift.” he wagered.
“A matching tattoo” I asked. “I never pegged you as the romantic type” I teased.
“I’m not, I just want to have a piece of you, and you have a piece of me so we can always remember this night.” He confessed.
I wasn’t sure what was so special about our evening, yeah, we had a good time, but it was only just another birthday.
However, he actually sounded sincere for once, so I was intrigued.
We were close friends but not officially dating. Three years of flirting and sexual tension, a persistent game of cat and mouse and now this? This wasn’t our dynamic, he was not sweet and affectionate. He was Danny, the pain in my ass, sexy, charismatic, impulsive ball of fun that I just could not help but be infatuated with.
“You’re drunk and impulsive but… fine.” I said after a pause.
He gave me a look of satisfaction. I felt his body come close behind me, then he covered my eyes with his large, rough hand.
“No peeking,” he said in that deep, breathy voice that brushed my ear and sent a rush of heat through my body. With his other hand, he guided my arm until my finger hovered over the poster. Then I felt his touch slide down my arm, along my ribs, and settle at my hip.
He had never touched me like this before. My heart raced, erratic and loud in my chest. I moved my finger slowly up and down the rows of small tattoos, choosing at random. After what felt like forever, he finally said, “And… stop.”
My finger landed on a heart pierced by a downward sword. “Oh God, what a cliché. Seriously?” I asked.
“I like it. Where do you want it?” he said.
“Nowhere Sister Martha can see, or we will never hear the end of it,” I replied.
He nodded, and with his hand still resting at my hip, his fingertip slipped just beneath the waistband of my skirt, tracing lightly across my skin to my lower hip. The smallest touch unraveled me. My breath fluttered, my body responding far more than it should have.
“How about right here?” he asked softly, his breath warm against the curve of my neck.
I nodded without hesitation, completely under his spell. In that moment, I would have agreed to anything he asked.
The sharp bite of the needle sobered me instantly. I welcomed the sting, grateful for the distraction from the way Danny had touched me only moments before. When the artist finished, we stood in front of the mirror, clothes shifted just enough to reveal the fresh ink. We studied the matching marks quietly, each of us now carrying a small piece of the other.
“See, Pickles? We look good together,” he stated with complete confidence.
Good together. What did that even mean? Was this his way of asking me to be his girlfriend? A normal person might have just asked, but Danny being Danny, of course it had to be something reckless, outrageous, and permanent. Not wanting to assume anything, I answered with the only thing I was certain of. “I agree.”
We left the tattoo shop changed. The energy between us felt stronger, heavier. He held my hand, fingers laced with mine, as we strolled down Main Street. Then I felt a sudden tug.
“Follow me,” he said, flashing a devilish smile that revealed his dimple. God, I loved that dimple.
“Where are we going?” I asked, struggling to keep up in my heels.
He led me toward a dimly lit alley wedged between two old brick buildings.
“The pee-pee-alley? Are you serious?” I teased.
He did not slow down. Keeping his grip on my hand, he pulled me around the corner, behind a stack of broken pallets. In one smooth motion, he turned me, so my back met the cold brick wall, our hands joined above my head.
The cold brick against my back was almost welcome, grounding me, tempering the heat flooding through my nervous body. We were both breathing hard, our breaths turning to mist as they tangled in the crisp night air beneath a sky scattered with stars. His forearm braced against the wall while his other hand settled low on my back, making my body ache with anticipation.
