I’ve never gone bare. Never been tempted to. Until now.
It’s well past two in the morning, and we’ve collapsed in her small bed. She’s draped across me, one naked thigh over mine, as her fingers drift across the lines on my chest. Most girls ask what they mean, but she never has, though I see her interest. She always studies me, her eyes drifting across my skin like she’s trying to memorize my ink.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispers, her lips swollen from our activities.
“They’re just lines.”
“No, I mean it. Your tattoos are stunning.” Her finger traces the lines of the dragon on my bicep.
“That one is for my grandfather. He died when I was little, but we were close.” I point to my chest where two figures dot the sky. “This is the constellation Gemini. It’s the first one I ever got.”
“The twins.”
I nod. “I was a twin, but my brother Scotty died when we were five.”
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.” She rubs the image like she’s trying to soothe me.
“What happened?”
“He got sick. Caught pneumonia.” I lick my dry lips. “Scotty and Cal both caught a really bad flu that winter, but Scotty never recovered.” I’m quiet as I think about those old memories. “I always felt guilty that I was the stronger brother. I never got sick. Never broke a bone. Everyone always told me I was the lucky one. Except I never felt lucky.”
I close my eyes as her finger traces under my collarbone. “That’s the ouroboros. It came next.”
“It’s intense, like you.”
I laugh. “I’m not that intense.”
She pokes my ribs. “Yeah, you kind of are.” She folds her arms on my chest and peers down at me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
I study the slant of her nose. How her face is outlined in shadow. “Have you ever wanted a tat?”
Her head tilts to the side. “No. Not really.” She nibbles that lip. “Well, not until now, I should say.”
That piques my interest. “What would you get?”
“That’s just it. How do you mark your skin forever?” She shakes her head. “I’d hate regretting it. What if I changed my mind?”
I reach over to her desk where I saw a marker the other day. “Let’s do a trial run. Tell me what you want, and I’ll draw it on you. It’ll wash off in a day or two.”
“Really?” She smiles.
“Yeah.” I kiss her jaw and work my way down to her neck where I take a bite.
“Um.” She laughs. “I can’t concentrate when you’re biting me.”
I lick the faint indentation of my teeth marks and settle back against the pillow with a sly grin. “Tell me or I’ll come up with something random and weird.”
She pushes me. “You would not.”
I laugh. “You’re right, sunshine. I’d draw something beautiful for you.”
Her lips meet mine as she pushes her hand into my hair. Her mouth is soft. Sweet. It makes my chest ache.
“Okay,” she says and rolls over onto her stomach. “I want something across my shoulders.”
Glancing down at the pen, I realize I can’t use it. “Shit. This one’s a Sharpie.” Not sure she wants me to use a permanent marker. This stuff will wash off in a week or two, but still.
She shrugs. “Go ahead. If you screw up, at least I won’t have to stare at it all day.”
I smack her bare ass. “The fuck I’ll screw up.” Her laughter makes me smile as I uncap the pen and start marking her smooth skin. “I’ll tell you, though, my MFA in painting never taught me how concentrate when I’m doing this to a beautiful, naked woman in her bed.”
“Oh, you sweet talker. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you have an MFA. That’s incredible,” she murmurs into her pillow. “Where’d you go to school?”
“Boston University for my undergrad and grad school.”
“That sounds amazing. And expensive.”
“Trust me when I say you don’t want to see my school loans.”
Ignoring the tight coil of anxiety that always flares when I think about my finances, I try to concentrate on Kat. On the way she’s smiling even though she’s drowsy. On the way her hair is a wild mess but so incredibly beautiful. On her gentle sigh when I caress her skin.
When I’m done, she’s asleep, her soft breaths deep and even.
I kiss her shoulder. “You can see it in the morning, sweetheart.”
I love the idea that she let me mark her. Reaching behind me, I touch the scratches on my back and chuckle. I guess we’re even.
46
Katherine
I lean against the formica counter as Bittersweet Symphony by the Verve plays in the background chaos of the diner.
My mom has always loved this song. One day I looked it up online and read that the Verve used a sample, that famous string intro, from a Rolling Stones song, and had to cough up all of their royalties to the Stones after it became a hit. So they had a huge international hit and became a household name, but they could never make any money from the song that got them there.