“Of course,” Jeremy said.
Nick’s words, though they’d been said jokingly, sat uncomfortably in Charlie’s gut. “She’s not better than you,” Charlie blurted. Nick’s pale green eyes cut his way. Rising, Charlie wondered why the hell he’d started this anyway. “What I mean is, you’re every bit as good as she is. You saved my life, Nick. And hers. Hell, so many -people around here owe you a debt of gratitude for what you’ve done. So, she’s lucky, too. That’s all I wanted to say.” Charlie fisted his hands against the urge to fidget.
The silence seemed to stretch out forever, and then Nick held out his hand. “Thanks, Charlie. That means a lot.”
Charlie returned the shake, although it was totally awkward given the bandages on his hand. They couldn’t come off soon enough. And then Nick was gone.
When Charlie turned around, Jeremy was right there. “I really appreciate that you did that,” Jeremy said, pulling Charlie into his arms. “Thank you. Nick’s hard on himself, you know?”
Surrendering to the embrace, Charlie rested his head on Jeremy’s shoulder and returned the hug. And it was such a sweet moment after how abruptly things had ended earlier. “You’re welcome,” Charlie said. “Is that a Rixey thing? Being hard on yourself?”
Jeremy gave a rueful laugh and pulled away enough to look Charlie in the eyes, though he kept one hand cupped around Charlie’s neck. It made him feel claimed, wanted. “Maybe so.”
“Because what happened on the roof wasn’t your fault, Jeremy. And I hate that you’re beating yourself up about it. I really do,” Charlie rushed on.
“I’m working on it,” Jeremy said, his thumb stroking back and forth against Charlie’s neck. “I’m just so fucking sad about the way it went down.” His voice cracked on the last word, and it nearly broke Charlie’s heart.
Charlie pulled Jeremy into his arms, his hand holding and stroking the back of Jeremy’s head. “Not your fault,” Charlie whispered. Jeremy’s hands fisted in Charlie’s shirt and his muscles went tight, like he was holding back what his body wanted to release. Several moments passed, and Charlie just held Jeremy. It was easy to do. He’d wanted to do it for weeks. And he knew he could do it forever, if Jeremy let him. Because Jeremy made him feel present in the world in a way he hadn’t . . . maybe ever.
Finally, Jeremy heaved a deep breath. “Thanks,” he whispered against Charlie’s throat. His breath was warm and ticklish.
“Any time,” Charlie said, not wanting the hug to end. Not wanting the touching to end. An idea came to mind, and Charlie ran with it before he gave himself the chance to overthink it. “Would it make you feel better if I asked you to do a tattoo for me?”
Jeremy lifted his head wearing a grin and an arched eyebrow. “Seriously? Because it would be cruel for you to tease me,” he said, his expression filling with humor.
“Aren’t I pretty much always serious?” Charlie asked.
Which made Jeremy laugh. “Your sense of humor is wickedly dry, Charlie, but you definitely have one.”
Charlie smiled and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Good to know, I guess.”
“So what would this tattoo be if you were to get one?” Jeremy asked, and then he leaned in for a kiss.
“Mmm,” Charlie hummed as he let the kiss distract him. When the idea came to him, it was as perfect as if he’d spent months brainstorming and debating. Because there was one thing that had always held Charlie back in his life. One thing that kept him from having the things he most wanted. Fear. Maybe if he proclaimed his triumph over it, he could actually conquer it. A “fake it till you make it” kinda thing. “Got a piece of paper?”
Jeremy stepped back. “You’re really serious about this?”
The more the idea gelled in his mind, the more serious he became. “Yes.” Jeremy handed him a sheet of paper and a pencil, and Charlie turned to draw against the counter. He converted the letters to numbers in his mind, then wrote them down:
01001110 01101111 00100000 01000110 01100101 01100001 01110010
“There,” Charlie said when he was done. “That’s what I want.”
Jeremy looked at the string of numbers. “Binary code?” Charlie nodded. “What does it mean?”
“No fear,” Charlie said. “Will you do it?”
“Hell, yes,” Jeremy said. “Where do you want it?”
“Somewhere private. Here, maybe?” he asked, gesturing to his side.
“Is this your first tat, Charlie?”
“Yeah.” And no matter what happened between them, the fact that Jeremy was doing his first would always mean the world to him.
Jeremy frowned. “Ribs are likely to hurt more than some other places might. That okay?”
Charlie thought it over for a long moment, but his mind was made up. “Yes.”