Page 46 of Filthy Boy

17

Bria

Igaze around the tattoo shop. It’s small, but it has lots of character. And it has a grunge, punk vibe to it that I sort of dig.

“Nervous?” Brody asks me, sitting down on the bench next to me, his knee bumping mine.

“Nah. I have three tattoos. They were fine.”

“Yeah. But you didn’t let me choose those.” He grins. “I might just go ahead and put a tattoo of my pecker on you. Maybe even my nutsack.”

Ignoring him, I put my arm around his, linking us. “So, you have, like…a zillion tattoos, right?”

“Just how giant do you think I am?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Shut up. As I was saying, you have a lot of tats. You’re basically a pro. So, another tattoo for you is no big deal.”

“I don’t really get where this is going.” His mouth forms a line. “This is your deal, babe. Don’t be trying to bring me into it. Uh-uh. No way.”

“So, you’re not going to let me choose?” I narrow my eyes. “For real? You’re going to be a little bitch about it?”

“Little bitch?” he growls. “You’ll probably put a set of mouse ears or a castle since I’m the only grown-ass dude who wanted to spend the day at that place.”

“Mmhmm. Right on your asscheek.” I pull my arm away, sulking. “It’s fine. I just thought it could be fun, you know. Sort of like an end to our pact. Even though we’re still following some of the rules. Others…not so much.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he throws his head back. “Fine. You can fucking choose. Goddamn it, Bria. Why do you make it impossible for me to say no?” As he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, his eyes float to my mouth. “Especially with these pouty fucking lips.”

A shiver runs down my spine, and when he pulls his thumb away, I bite my lip to recover.

“Really?” I finally squeal, clapping my hands and bouncing up and down. “I have theperfectone.”

“Oh, so you’ve already figured this shit out? Like you knew my bitch ass wouldn’t say no to you.” He looks annoyed, but I know it’s an act. “You’re a pain in my ass, Bria Collins.”

“Yeah, well, right back at you.”

After a few minutes, they bring us in. I’m both terrified and excited to see what he chose for me. And I pray he’ll like what I chose for him. Even if it’s something he’s not expecting.

Brody deserves to know how special he is. I hope this tattoo will remind him of that.

“Flowers?” I look at my wrist, seeing the gorgeous, minimalist flowers up the side of it. The style of it is exactly something I’d choose for myself. Simple yet stunning. “It’s beautiful.”

“Believe it or not, I had a teammate’s girlfriend draw it up last night. I didn’t want something for you out of one of those old-as-dirt books on their counter. Or something from that Pinterest shit all chicks are obsessed with.” He smiles proudly. “For you, it had to be completely one of a kind. Just like you are.”

Hugging his side, I look up at him. “Thanks, Brody. I love it.”

Holding my wrist out, he nods toward it. “Wildflowers for my Wildflower. Because they are resilient. No one has to nurture them for them to grow and be whatever the hell they are going to be. They do it on their own. They weather all the storms, continuing to thrive. And despite that so many flowers are planted into perfect rows or kept in plant pots just for looks…wildflowers grow where they please. They make their own rules.” Kissing my cheek, he nods. “Just like you. You’re not trying to be like every other flower you see. You’re you. And thank fuck for that. Because you’re my favorite person in the entire world.”

Tears fill my eyes from his words even though I try to stop them. Brody might not be one for relationships, but he is the sweetest man I’ve ever met. For our entire friendship, all he’s wanted to do is build me up. To make me see myself the way he does. He’s not someone who takes. He gives. Almost to a fault.

Wiping my eyes, I look up at him. “It’s perfect. Thanks for not putting a giant tattoo of your penis on my body.”

“You’re right; it would have to be giant.” He smirks. “You’re welcome. Also for not branding you with my balls.”

“Yeah. Or your balls.”

“They are nice balls though,” he mutters. “You sort of have to admit it.”

“Don’t ruin the moment.” I sniffle. “Your turn to see yours.”

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