Page 123 of Wish

“Wesley.”

I looked up, unable to ignore the command.

“Look at the tattoo.”

“I don’t want to,” I whispered.

“Why?”

I said nothing, embarrassment and hurt clouding my head.

The fingers in my hair tugged. “Why?” he repeated.

The words rushed out, practically running together as if they knew if they hesitated, I would somehow lock them down. “Because it’s just another piece of you I’ll never have. A piece you kept from me.”

Max hit his knees in front of me, bringing us eye to eye. “Look at me.”

I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. He’d see the tears I was desperately trying to hide.

Sighing, he leaned in, pressing the sweetest kiss to my temple. It only made the tears well more.

“I love you,” he whispered into my hair, then slowly stood. “Now look at the tattoo.”

The last part was spoken without softness, a demand he expected me to heed. Bossy bastard.

Sniffing, I swiped my eyes and lifted my head. He opened his leg, turning it so his inner thigh was exposed.

The sob I’d valiantly been holding back ripped free and brought with it those unshed tears. I stared, vision blurred, at the only spot of color on Max’s entire body, the tattoo I had no idea he had.

Another sob vibrated my throat, and the slap of my hands on his bare leg echoed around the room. “What is this?” I said, my thumbs and pointer fingers creating a frame around the design.

“It’s the only color in my entire world.”

You know, maybe I was an emotional guy, but I was good at keeping it inside. But this? Oh hell no. This was spilling out of every pore. Every crevice, every single outlet my body had.

“Max.” I wept his name, wanting to look at him but unable to tear my eyes away.

I leaned closer, refusing to remove my hands from his body, turning my face to wipe my tears on my arm. The second the wetness was gone, more took its place.

“You got a Nemo tattoo,” I said reverently as though I were speaking of something sacred.

Technically, it was a clownfish, vibrant orange, white, and black. The design truly was the only color on his entire body. He hadn’t even wanted me to draw on him with a pink pen that washed off, but this? This would never wash away.

“It’s permanent.” I echoed my thoughts.

“Tattoos are.” If he was sardonic in the reply, I was too emotional to notice.

“How long have you had this?”

“Years.”

Finally, my eyes ripped away from the little fish to gaze up his body.“Years?”

Leaning down, he swiped the stray wetness left on my cheeks. “Even when I couldn’t say it out loud. Even when I knew it was wrong. You were always who I wanted. My Nemo. My little fish. My everything.”

And just like that, the dreamlike, unreal quality of this entire night shifted and changed, becoming tangible. Max was really mine, made permanent by the inerasable tattoo on his body, proving that my love had never actually been one-sided.

Another sob ripped out of me as I surged to my feet, leaping at him without hesitation. He caught me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist, his arms anchoring themselves beneath my ass.

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