Page 64 of Yours Truly

“He’s cool,” I say, trying to control the flare of jealousy rearing inside me when she smiles.

“Super cool.” She takes another bite, then adds, “And I’m pretty sure he’s in love with Juniper.”

Relief spreads through me and I glance at my watch to divert energy. Knowing I have an afternoon session, and seeing that time is running out, I redirect my focus. “You know, I think being locked up is somehow helping me… I don’t know? Focus?” I’m not sure if focus is the right word, but the clarity I’ve had today, despite the hiccup this morning, is incredible.

“So… you’re not horny?” Ivy whispers, eyes wide. God do I love her saying horny.

“Oh, I’m horny,” I laugh. “Since you’ve been in this diner I’ve thought about fucking your mouth at least twice.”

Her cheeks grow pink, and I love that I can turn my little Firecracker red.

“But not being able to act on it… well, it’s different. But I like that it forces my brain to go other places.” I discovered after holding in my piss for two and half hours, that the cage is indeed open at the tip, so all that agony was for nothing. And it’s oddly comforting and I find my mind freed up since I no longer think about my dick half the day.

She smiles, and my entire chest radiates warmth. Fuck, I like her. I like her so much. “Hey, by the way, Deuce thinks you should ink me. Not sure if you caught that earlier.”

She eats her last fry before responding. “Yeah, I heard.”

“I think he’s right. And not just because of what you did for me. But… I want your work on me, Ivy.”

I don’t know if she knows she does it, but right then, her hand rises, the tips of her fingers smoothing along the rough edge of the key.

“Thank you.” I don’t know if she’s thanking me for the apology, or for letting her ink me, but her appreciation is as good as praise. With her flushed cheeks and my leaking cock, I pay the bill, and I trail behind her like a puppy across the street.

NINETEEN

“I’m all yours, Firecracker.”

Ivy

“He’s leaving it up to me,” I whisper in the receiver to my sister, Juniper, whom I called for emotional support and squealing. Well, mostly squealing.

“And an apology!” she squeals back, because that’s what sisters are for.

“I know! I don’t know, Juni. Something is different. It’s like… he’s ready to be present in his life here and Bluebell, and somehow I’m part of that. And not just at Ink Time.”

“I’m glad. I’m glad he’s figuring it out. I know how much you respect him as a creator. And I know how you feel about him,” Juniper adds, the sound of a jar being popped in the background. “So where’s it gonna be? His shoulder? Ankle?”

I swallow, my excitement flaring. “His hipbone. He said he has a spot there for me.”

“Ooh, beneath his pants. That’s intimate.”

Juniper doesn’t have any tattoos. She doesn’t realize that when it comes to getting inked, asking an artist to tattoo your hip or belly or even cleavage isn’t really intimate. Not to the artist at least.

“Yeah, and you know what I’m gonna do?” I ask, looking behind me to double-check the office door in Ink Time is shut for the trillionth time. “Am I talking loud?” I whisper, massively concerned that Trace can hear every word I’m saying.

She laughs. “No, in fact, I can hardly hear you over the batch of jam I’m making.”

My mind temporarily veers to Juni’s jam, and despite having just had lunch, my stomach still rumbles. “Oooh, what kind?”

“Dragon Fruit. It’s a… special order,” she says, her voice veering off. “Dash’s Dragon Fruit. Limited edition. Single batch.”

I smirk. “Dash Foster?” I’ve seen him poking around our place for the last six months, and I know she’s friends with him. But I’m pretty sure they’re on the cusp of more. “We saw him at Goode’s today.”

“Oh yeah?” Her interest is piqued, but she veers the topic back to me. “Well, tell me what design you’re doing on Trace!”

“We’re putting a pin in this Dash Foster thing, got it?”

I can picture her saluting me. “Got it.”

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