Page 53 of Happy Krampus Xmas & the Meet Not Cute
TJ smiles at Ash’s rude reply.
Ash puts the stencil on my shoulder, and after checking the position in the mirror, we are good to go. I sit again on the bed as Ash starts prepping.
“Ad astra per aspera.” TJ is suddenly looming over me from behind as he reads the letters on my shoulder. That smoky voice timbre of his is sexy as fuck. I can feel the ghost of his breath on my skin as he asks, “What does it mean?”
I swallow the embarrassing squawk in my throat and reply, “It’s Latin. It means to the stars through hardships.”
His raspy, low hum wafts softly through the hair on my temple. I close my eyes against the tingling sensation that assaults me at his nearness. Then I feel a light finger trailing the length of my shoulder. Slowly, disappearing too soon. I only realize I’m holding my breath when TJ pulls away. I can see his reflection in the long mirror on the wall, his gray cap is backward and he adjusts the slightly tented front of his sweats before sitting in the armchair. I feel an absurd pinch in my chest at the sight of him.
Fuck, I was wrong, he’s extremely good at this. And excessively hot and dangerous, seeing how strongly my body reacts to his.
“Can’t Help Falling In Love” starts playing in the room while the buzzing tattoo gun works on my shoulder. Ash sends me a knowing smirk, the fucker is screwing with me. Still, my eyes keep going back to TJ. He’s chatting with Ash. I’m barely feeling the sting from the tattoo gun since his low chuckles continue unleashing a delicious melty sensation inside my guts that I’m unable to stop.
Ten minutes later, we are done, but it felt like it took forever. After the cream and bandage, I rapidly put my clothes back on and give Ash a pat on the shoulder as a thank-you.
“Call me when you decide what ink you want to get,” he tells TJ.
“You bet, man.” They exchange a macho handshake before we leave the room.
How the fuck they became homies in ten minutes is a mystery I’ll never comprehend. I’m still wondering about it as I exit the shop and bump against someone.
“Sorry,” I utter when I see Raj’s smiling face looking back at me. We have a couple of classes together, and I got an interested vibe from him on more than one occasion.
“Hey!” he greets me. “Got inked?”
“Yep,” I reply.
“Ash is the man,” he declares and I nod. “Oh, you coming to Carl’s party Saturday?”
“Probably.” I was thinking of going. “Who’s DJing?”
“Stuart,” Raj informs me. Stuart is not bad. “You have to come!”
“It’s the last party before winter break,” TJ adds.Is he going?
“Exactly. I’ll see you there.” Raj squeezes my arm before walking away.
“Carl’s parties are always fun,” TJ says, as we get in his car.
“So maybe I’ll see you there,” I reply with a shrug.
five
Surreptitious: kept secret or done in a stealthy manner
TJ
Saturday couldn’t have come fast enough. I saw Spencer once in the last four days at the café for a few minutes. He was working and I was running to practice, so I said hi and asked how he was, and then I grabbed my smoothie and ran to the football field.
I’ve been too busy studying for the last exam in statistics and then training. But Spencer has been on my mind every fucking day, especially when I’m in the shower or at night in bed when I rub one out, replaying in my head what we did on that pink sofa over and over.
My father texted me twice more to remind me of my…responsibilities. The only time I’ve fought him was about continuing football in college. He was against it, thought it would distract me from my studies, but I convinced him of the opposite, that having a son excel in both a nationally followedsport and a hard major would give him more prestige among his envious colleagues. For the past three and half years, he let me be. And at times, I almost forget about the bleak future ahead of me. Because letting go of football to sit behind a desk is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
The loud honking behind me shakes me out of my dreadful thoughts.
I park my car two blocks from Carl’s house, leaving my jacket on the back seat and sliding the rolled notebook in my jeans’ back pocket. I can hear the music blasting from all the way over here as I push my hands inside my front pockets. Snow covers the house’s roof, tree branches, bushes and part of the street and sidewalk. It’s cold, but my body temperature runs high, my blue sweater and my favorite pair of jeans keep me warm. When I reach the front yard, there’s a guy sleeping face down on the snowy lawn, a girl is puking near the bushes while her friend is holding her hair, and a couple is making out savagely near the porch stairs. I avoid the plastic cups littering the path to the front door and then enter inside the house.
The music is crazy loud in the living room where Stuart is playing. The place is packed, and the change of temperature makes me shiver. It’s fucking hot. I high-five a couple of guys, wave at some smiling girls, and then greet a few more people. Football players are known around campus, we are popular. And most people are very friendly with us. I do like thatmostof the time.
