Page 138 of Only Ever You

“One more stop,” Michael says as he helps me out of his car.

I’m tired and a bit overwhelmed with emotion, but I follow him without a question.

The bell above the door jingles as we step into the tattoo parlor, and the scent of disinfectant mixed with ink hits me immediately.

“Michael,” I say slowly.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Yeah?”

“Why are we here?”

“I need a new tattoo, and I need you with me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s romantic.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no stopping the smile that splits my face.

He’s led back to a station right away, and I claim the stool beside him. When the artist retrieves the stencil he’s already prepared, my chest tightens. A snowflake. Exactly like the earrings he gave me earlier today.

With my mouth open, I search his face. “Are you sure?”

His answer comes without hesitation. “One hundred percent.”

Sam, the tattoo artist, looks from me to Michael. “Does that mean the snowflake is representative of your girl?”

“You’re very observant,” Michael says.

I swat his arm. “Be nice.”

Sam drops his head back and laughs. “He’s nice. Don’t even worry about it.”

As he turns on the machine and presses the gun to Michael’s skin, I expect him to least flinch. Instead, he leans back in his chair and drinks me in.

Cheeks burning, I fidget in my seat. “Stop staring.”

“Sorry, can’t.”

“And why is that?”

His smile is slow and lazy. “Best view in the room.”

Sam snorts. “God, you two are disgustingly cute.”

“Thank you,” Michael says.

“I wasn’t complimenting you.”

This time, I’m the one who snorts, and, a moment later, Michael and Sam laugh along with me.

The next hour passes surprisingly fast. The three of us chat about hockey and figure skating and anime and reality TV shows. At one point, Michael and Sam argue about their favorite characters from Solo Leveling. I’m too entranced with the way the snowflake is taking shape beneath the buzzing needle to get involved.

Maybe it’s the place.

Maybe it’s the city lights glowing outside.

Or maybe it’s the man in the chair. The guy I’ve loved since I was ten has spent an entire day making up for the birthdays he missed.