Page 65 of Gin and Bear It

He leans over to pull his phone out of his pocket. “She loves me, so maybe in an hour if she happens to be free. I doubt she is since she’s been getting popular, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Wait, a tattoo tonight?” I haven’t thought much about a tattoo since that night. To be honest, I didn’t even want it enough to look up an artist who could tattoo my skin. I assumed it was one of my many fleeting ideas and left it.

“Why not? Sometimes you need to plan tattoos, but other times it’s fun to get one just because.” He taps around on his phone and puts it back in his pocket. “As long as you have someone mostly sober to talk you out of anything too stupid.”

NINETEEN

JADA

“She’s free,” Ash says. “Let’s go get a tattoo.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.” He smiles and nods down the street. “C’mon.”

I follow him, and like he did inside the club, he gently takes my hand and guides me through the crowd. He clearly knows where he’s going, like he’s been here countless times. He takes us through side roads and eventually we come across a small shop with a neon sign that says tattoos.

“Your heart is pounding and we haven’t even gone in,” he says as his fingers brush against the inside of my wrist.

“It’s just so sudden.” I’m impulsive, but usually about ordering food or buying something, not getting permanent ink on my body.

I’ve only been in that one tattoo shop before, and it had been enormous. This space is cozy, like a spot you’d want to hang out in, and pristine. Some curtained-off areas are farther back beyond the small lounge area, with people chatting quietly and laughing. A petite Black woman with sleeves of tattoos and short cropped hair is leaning against the front desk and brightens when she sees Ash.

“What’s up?” She opens her arms for a hug and Ash hugs her back before they both look at me. “And who is this?”

“Hey, Berta. This is my wife, Jada,” Ash says, putting his hand on my lower back.

“I’m sorry, your what?” Berta stares at him for a few beats. “You’re not joking. What the fuck, Ash?”

“It’s been kind of fast,” he says. “But the tattoo is for her. Her first one.”

Berta waves her hand in front of her face and laughs. “Okay, okay, this is a lot. But come on back and we’ll talk.”

We follow Berta to the farthest curtained-off area, where she has her setup. Ash guides me into the biggest chair, and Berta sits on her rolling seat. What I assume is her work is all over the walls, and it looks familiar—she must have done the majority of Ash’s work. But it doesn’t seem like she’s done the same tattoo over and over again. Her style is recognizable but ranges from dainty, small pieces to full, bold sleeves like Ash’s.

“Let’s get the tattoo stuff out of the way before I grill Ash on the fact that he’s fucking married.” Berta gives him a playful glare and grabs a tablet. “What are you interested in doing and where would you like it? Actually, back up—do you like my work, or did Ash just drag you in here without asking you if you even liked my style?”

She gestures at the wall.

“He kind of dragged me here, but I love your style. I like his tattoos a lot. Um…” I look at Ash, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I wanted a little bouquet of roses, violets, and morning glories. I have a picture somewhere.”

I pull up my photo app and search. Thankfully I didn’t delete it. It’s simple—the birth month flowers for June, February, and September.

“Cute.” She pulls a stylus out from the side of the tablet. “And you like the colors?”

“Yes. If they aren’t a problem,” I say.

“Girl, the colors are definitely not a problem.” She chuckles.

“I’m not sure where I want to put it, though,” I say. “What spot hurts the least?”

Does that make me sound like a baby who can’t take it? She doesn’t seem to mind, though, or laugh.

“I can tell you what hurts like hell. Let me see that picture again.” Berta takes a picture of my photo on her phone and starts sketching from it. “Avoid any really bony parts of your body. Arms are a safe bet, like the fleshy parts.”

I bite my bottom lip. “Okay, maybe the back of my upper arm?”

“Sounds good to me. Let me sketch something out and we can go from there.” She starts sketching more. “So, explain how when I saw you last…what was it, August? You were single. And now you’re married to this absolutely adorable woman. Did the band finally collapse?”