Page 73 of Hold Me Today

After all my other tats, I recognize the familiar sensation of the needle treading back and forth in the shapes of letters. The more the machine buzzes, the less I feel much of anything, so I force myself to relax and loosen up.

Flat on my back on a cushioned table, I’m sprawled out, topless, with my hands covering my nipples.Thank you for that one, Nick.

The artist who’s working on my ink drags a damp cloth over my bra line. “You doin’ good?”

His Boston accent is so thick, he’d give Mark Wahlberg a run for his money. His name tag readsCalvin. To be honest, I expected more of a Matthewor a Sullivan to match his red hair. Calvin works just fine, though.

“All good,” I tell him, dragging my gaze up to the ceiling. “How many words are we doing?”

Calvin laughs. “I’m under strict orders not to tell you anything.”

Dammit. I think fast. “Well, what word are we on now?”

He makes a point of rolling his lips shut, then gets back to work. I’ll give him another few minutes then make my next move.

Tipping my head to the left, I search out Nick on the far side of the room. He’s posted up in a chair that’s positioned to face me. Hugging the back, he sits still while Zach works diligently to bring my vision to life. As Calvin needles my skin, alternating between swiping the damp cloth and ink away, I focus on Effie’s older brother.

His dark hair is in desperate need of a cut, and I vow to trim it soon. But it’s not his hair that truly steals my focus—it’s his naked torso . . . and the other tattoos I see marking his skin. There are only two, one gracing his pec—a quote, it looks like, that I spotted when he first removed his shirt—and another on the underside of his left ribcage.

I trace my memories with a heavy hand, trying to remember the last time I saw him shirtless. Back in high school, I think. And, boy, the years have made his already spectacular torso into a work of art.

Ropes of muscle clench as he sits under the needle, his eyes squeezed shut—leaving me full room to drool over him. His shoulders and arms are all bulging power, no doubt thanks to lifting things all day for Stamos Restoration and Co. My face heats as I wonder what it would be like to be under all that bulky mass.

“Do you need some water?” Calvin asks me, snapping me out of my daze. “You’re lookin’ a little pink.”

Quickly, I shake my head, muttering “no,” and then return to my unbidden perusal.

Nick Stamos is a catch. Why in the world would that girl Savannah Rose turn him down? Seriously, who in the world could trump a guy with so much heartandsex appeal? It doesn’t get better than him, that’s for sure.

Flicking my eyes up to his chest, and then to his face, I startle when I realize he’s staring right back. And my hands . . . my hands are cupping my naked breasts. The flush on my cheeks spreads down, warming my chest and then, yes, lower still. I cross my legs at my ankles, careful not to move too quickly.

He winks—winks!—and then mouths something that looks suspiciously like,Like what you see?

Turning my face back to front-and-center, I stare up the ceiling and fight the smile threatening to burst free.

Cocky, incorrigible man.

He’s such a liar. He isn’t shyat all. At least, he isn’t with me.

I spend the next hour on the table. Then spend the following one flipping through a magazine in the main area of the parlor. When my phone vibrates, I pull it out of my coat pocket to see that Effie’s texted me. Some of my happiness dims. She wouldn’t approve of any of tonight’s shenanigans, least of all our getting spur-of-the moment tattoos.

A permanent mark on our skin for a temporary, fake relationship.

I fidget in my chair. Hang my head in guilt. And then check my phone like any best friend ought to do.

Effie:Good news!!!!!!

Her enthusiasm is contagious as my fingers fly across the keyboard, not pausing to check for any possible typos before I shoot it off.

Me:TELL ME. Did the Blades write that 5-star reveiw?

Effie:I think so? Maybe?

Effie:Actually, I think they did. Totally forgot to tell you about it. But that’s not my news!!!

Me:Spill the tea, lady. I’m not getting any younger.

Effie:This is not a drill. I repeat, THIS.IS.NOT.A.DRILL.

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