Page 49 of Midnight Ink

Conversation flows easily around us. Weather, travel, gentle teases between them. It’s oddly comforting being tucked into this normality after such a chaotic day.

Julian relaxes more as dinner goes on, talking easily. He always does. Julian is what I call an introvert against his will. He loves to talk, but he has social anxiety and it takes him a bit to warm up to people. Once he gets into the flow of conversation, though, he just blooms. I know it’s one of the things he loves about tattooing. He can talk and not worry about eye contact or awkward silences, and just let the buzz of the machine lull his heart to rest and fill the gaps for him.

Julian jokes with the little girl and I watch him more than I should.

At one point his leg brushes mine then rests there.

He doesn’t move away, and neither do I.

For the first time since the airport I feel lighter. We’re still stuck. My bag is missing. The storm still rages outside.

But we’re fed, dry, and warm.

And Julian is right here. Close enough that I can feel the heat of him through my jeans. There’s a lot to do and so many things that can still go wrong, but I forget about all of it and just enjoy this moment.

Julian laughs at something the little girl says.

While being stuck here isn’t ideal, at least I’m here with him.

Right now that feels like more than enough.

ELEVEN

IAN

When we walk back into the room, I forget that there’s only one bed.

It’s not a big deal. Julian and I have shared a bed before on nights where he didn’t feel like going home since he had appointments first thing in the morning. “I don’t know why I’m so tired,” he says.

“It’s been a draining day,” I offer. “The adrenaline, the panic attack on the plane . . . everything.” At least the bed looks clean with fresh bedding. “Guess I’m sleeping in my boxers.” I mean, it’s what I do at home. Not sure what I’ll wear tomorrow, but that is future Ian’s problem.

“You can borrow some clothes tomorrow.”

I nod, stripping off my T-shirt and feeling his eyes on me. “What?”

“That tattoo.” His lopsided smile does shit to me. “I love that tattoo.” I look down at the black galaxy across my chest as it crawls onto my neck. Maddox did so many of my tattoos, even bigger tattoos than this, but this one was the first. The first big piece, and fuck it hurt like nothing else. I trusted him, though, and I knew it would be amazing. It’s now my favorite tattoo.

“It was his first really big piece.”

“How bad did it hurt?”

I look at it and it’s like I can feel Maddox’s hands on me. He was so proud of himself. “Not too bad.”

“What about the neck part?”

I’ve noticed it’s the one area on Julian’s body he doesn’t have any ink. “It sucked. Nothing terrible, though.”

He visibly shivers. “No thanks.”

“You’re afraid of the neck?” I tease. “You have your brow tattooed, my friend.” I don’t have any face tattoos, but trusting someone with a needle by my eye . . . No thanks. I have a thing about eye stuff. It makes me squeamish. When I did his brow tattoo, I was sweating through my shirt.

“The neck scares me,” he says seriously. “I have this irrational fear of the needle puncturing my aorta”

“Carotid artery.”

“Shut up.” He laughs. “I know it’s unrealistic.”

“You wouldn’t let me do it?” I wink. “I’ll be gentle.”