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But then it hits me. I have plans for tonight. I’m so unused to such a turn of events, that I didn’t even think about it. Not that I remembered the movie night when Vex was inviting me for a tattoo.

“I’m sorry. I actually just remembered Declan roped me into a study evening.”

For a moment, Matt seems disappointed, but then his gaze turns mischievous. “There’s always next week. I’m sure we won’t be too bored without you.”

I nod with a smile, because it’s not like I’ll be getting another tattoo. It will have to remain my dirty little secret. I can’t tell Matt I’m getting inked by the guy I so often claim is the most obnoxious person in Springton.

Chapter 2

Aaron

The lights of the tattoo studio beckon me closer, but there are still five minutes left until eight, and I could use some more time to calm down before walking in there. I want to be all cool and unbothered as I step over the threshold, but the truth is that I’ve been freaking out all day, and still haven’t decided on the image I’m going to allow Vex to etch into my skin.

It would be prudent to ask for something in the signature style that made him so famous, but do I want to go in blindly and become someone else’s canvas? It’s my skin, and I’m gonna wear tonight’s artwork to the end of my days.

The idea of forever makes my heart rattle in panic. What if I choose the wrong thing? What if in five years my sensibility changes? What if his style goes out of fashion? Or, worse still, it becomes too fashionable? What if the tattoo I get ends up becoming the typical thing every college kid gets their freshman year? If that happens, everyone would think I got the ink to be trendy, and then, I might as well stand in front of the firing squad.

The other concern that’s gave me a stomach ache all afternoon is what to wear. Of course, Vex just offered me a favor, not invited me on a date, so it shouldn’t matter, but let’s face it, he’s hot, and I want to be presentable, smell nice, and have fresh breath.

Since it’s much cooler in the evening, I settled on a dark brown cotton shirt and black slacks with leather loafers. It’s too warm for a sweater, but I took a cardigan with me in case it gets colder by the time I leave. Vex’s style is different to mine, but anyone should appreciate timeless classics and high quality fabric. I also managed to get my hair looking perfectly nonchalant, as if the wind has arranged it into careless waves.

I feel like a young movie star with the kind of unconventional beauty that makes people do a double take and ask: what do all those fans see in him? But while I’m waiting for my turn on the stage of Vex’s life, stress is consuming me from the inside.

Still, when the long hand of my watch aligns with twelve, it’s time to stop wallflowering in the shadows and face the hot dragon waiting for me in his cave.

My legs seem to be made of cotton wool, and I barely feel my feet, but I am the master of feigning confidence at this point and head across the empty street, straight inside.

The studio used to be a pharmacy, which somehow retained its antique decor throughout the years and still has beautifully carved wooden cabinets covering one of the walls. Instead of endless rows of vials and jars, the shelves now house a menagerie of framed drawings and unusual items, from small pieces of taxidermy to a lady’s bust adorned with medieval-style jewelry. And while the furniture is Victorian, its gothic style goes well with a tall standing candelabra of cast iron and the big tapestry depicting St. George fighting a dragon.

A part of me wants to mock Vex for creating this ambience for extra photo opportunities, but it’s done with taste and doesn’t feel like Medievaland.

Vex is grabbing a drink from a little black fridge when he spots me. I intend to greet him, but then he stretches, exposing the tattoos covering all of his upper body and I’m dumbstruck. He’s only wearing dark jeans and boots, making me wonder if it’s his usual business attire, or the after-hours version. Either way, I’m not complaining.

I get goosebumps when he offers me a confident smile. The pictures he posts on social media usually present him as the kind of guy who’ll either punch you or fuck you, but he’s just as hot when he smiles.

“Hope I’m not too early?” I ask as he walks toward me.

Just as I’m about to step out of his way, he reaches over my shoulder and locks the door. The click sends a shiver down my spine, especially as from up close, I can smell him as clearly as if I were kissing my way up the headless knight tattooed on his chest.

But he’s all cool while I’m stuck staring at the thick silver chain around his neck, because my gaze might stray to a less appropriate place otherwise. Like his six pack or the Apollo’s belt presented by the jeans sitting low on his hips.

Am I overdressed?

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks and moves along the counter, back to the fridge.

I allow myself to follow him, and since he’s looking ahead and can’t see me, I study the way his muscles shift under skin as he moves. It’s like watching a jaguar in its natural habitat. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s dangerous, particularly to someone as attracted to him as I am, but since I am not the fare he wants, I feel safe enough to step into his lair.

“Cognac? Wine? Whatever’s fine. Only if it’s okay on the premises. I’m not twenty-one yet. I don’t want you getting in trouble over me.” I squeeze the sweater with both my hands, now glad that I brought it, even if only for this purpose.

He’s so… big. My best friend Matt is a jock, but while toned, he’s nowhere near as tall. Vex is a wall of solid muscle. I rarely interact with guys like him. In fact, most of my English literature classes are full of women, and I don’t meet that many guys, period. But I can still see that Vex is a work of art, and if I were to take a life drawing class, his body would be my dream subject.

I blink, stiffening when he turns my way, presenting me with the perfect view of his meaty pecs, the washboard stomach, and the hair leading down from his navel. I’m burning when I realize I’ve been caught checking him out, so my next move is to meet his gaze and pretend that I wasn’t staring.

“Can’t drink alcohol before getting a tattoo. I have orange juice, water, and soda.”

I laugh nervously. “Oh. Of course. Orange juice, please.” In a sippy cup preferably because it seems I have the tattoo knowledge of a toddler. “Anything else I should know? Does booze make people fidget while you tattoo them?”

Vex picks up the bottle of juice and opens it before pouring some into a glass from the stylish cupboard. I stare at his nipples, which have definitely perked up since my arrival. “It’s about blood coagulation. It’s your first time?” he asks and slides the juice along the counter. It’s very clear he expects me to catch it, but I miss the cue and have to turn in order to get it from where it came to a halt on its own.