The buzzing of the needle blurs with the downtempo music from the speaker in the corner, a quiet symphonic background for what I’m witnessing.
It’s beautiful.
The ink appears in soft strokes across Clay’s smooth skin.
I thought the blood would bother me, but there’s hardly any, and it’s wiped away fast in a two-handed dance as elegant as any ballet.
Normally, the artist’s calendar is booked for months, but apparently, he does all of Clay’s tattoos, and he’s the only client the artist would take on a walk-in basis.Especially on a Friday night.
“You decide what tattoo you want yet?”Clay asks, his face turned toward me.
He doesn’t flinch or give any indication of the pain he’s in.I wouldn’t expect anything else from him.
“I thought it would be easy, but there are so many options.”I glance around the studio, where art is mounted on every available surface.There are simple hearts and stars and banners along with photos of realistic faces, detailed mosaics and landscapes.“That’s why you get one every year.”
His eyes crinkle.“I get one every year because I’m in a different place.And it blurs together, but I don’t wanna forget what got me here.”
It humbles me even more that he let me help him pick one out.A tattoo to mark who he is, in this moment.
“You should’ve told me the assignment when I helped pick yours out,” I chide him.
He rubs a hand over his jaw.“Nah.You aced it.”
Clay orders dinner for the three of us, and on a break, we eat tacos wrapped in foil, as delicious as they are messy.
He also ordered me a bottle of wine delivered with chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert, so I’m riding a happy buzz.
When the artist stands up to stretch and use the bathroom, it’s the two of us.
“Well?”Clay asks.
I inspect his back.There’s a sun just appearing over the ridge.
“Is it rising or setting?”I ask.
“You tell me.”
“Rising,” I decide, and he grins.
Once the tattoo is complete and covered, and we've said goodbye to the artist, we head back outside onto the sidewalk.
“I figured we’d see more stars,” I say as we amble down the street.
“The city is too bright.Not like Red Rocks.”
“No.But it’s still beautiful.”
There’s a text from Mari saying she hopes I enjoy my mini trip, plus a picture of her and Harlan.
They look in love, and my heart squeezes.They haveeverything.
Is it so crazy to want that, too?
Not the perfect job or the man in a suit or the ring, but the happiness.
I tip my face up to stare at the sky.
He threads his fingers through mine.“I need to tell you something.”
