I’ve never had someone give themselves a tattoo for me. Daisy allowed me to give her one, but—but this is something completely different.
“Shade told me about the party last year. I meant to throw this costume into a donation bin a few days after, but for some reason, I couldn’t. I kept it at the back of my closet on the off chance I ever decided to wear it again. So, I know you’re not in tight red leather, but I think this counts as a redo,” she says.
Her nail traces the outline of the tattoo on the inside of her wrist that I can’t seem to look away from.
“I wanted to commemorate that night because even if nothing came of our matching costumes, I think I felt something when our eyes met. A spark, there then gone. And while I wish we could go back and have that proper moment, I think what we got instead was more than worth the wait.”
“Baby,” I croak.
The ice cube is small but detailed in the same way all of Shade’s designs are. Every crack and frozen detail is well placed, but it could be a fucking blank square for all I care. It’s the water dripping off the edges and the letters they’ve been designed to spell that has me lost for words.
Bryce.
The end of theehas been curled into a devil’s tail, and above the left corner of theB, two angel wings are spread wide.
“It’s small, but?—”
My mouth smashes against hers in a hard, rushed kiss, but there’s plenty of time for slow and gentle later. Right now, I’ve really just fucking missed my girl and could very well die without tasting her.
Daisy responds to my desperation with one of equal force. She’s the one to slip her tongue past my lips and moan low and long at the overwhelming sensations that follow. I swallow each one of those sounds.
“I love you. I love you,” I repeat against her warm lips.
She smiles and strokes my jaw. “I love you, Frosty.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
Daisy Mitchell loves me, and I think that might be my greatest accomplishment to date.
43
DAISY
Bryce takes us home.
Home.
Ours.
Grateful to have walked to Darren’s instead of driven, I follow her inside and pause just beyond the front door. The wings I refused to take off in the car are itchy as they hang off my shoulders. Still, I keep them on.
When she notices my absence behind her, Bryce turns and raises two eyebrows at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
Her blue eyes fill with suspicion. “Why are you standing in the doorway, then?”
“Well, you haven’t actually officially welcomed me into the house as your girlfriend yet.”
Suspicion shifts into a bright humour. “Oh, my bad. How do I fix this great mistake?”
I roll my lip between my teeth and push my hair over my shoulders, chest starting to rise a little faster.
“Well, kissing me here would be a good place to start.”
She’s on me in a single heartbeat. The soft yet controlledpress of her lips makes my head empty of anything but her name on repeat.