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Fuck me.
When I finally pull out and collapse on my back on the table by her side, barely avoiding the stack of dishes there, I see stars.
Shooting stars, I guess, since they’re leaving trails of light in my blurry eyes, and I should make a wish.
But I can’t think of anything I want, anything more important than having Tessa love me and my brothers safe, so I just close my eyes and smile.
***
“How’s it going, fucker?” Zane grabs my hand and pulls me in for a one-armed man hug. “You look less like roadkill these days.”
“Jeez, thanks for the compliment, man.” I laugh as he releases me and steps back. “I’m okay.” More than okay, in fact. I even talked to Coach West, and it looks like I may get that funding after all and go back to college. “Where’s Tess?”
“I’m putting the final touches on her tattoo. Wanna see?”
“Damn right I wanna see what you inked on my girl.”
“Be my guest.”
Zane leads the way through the shop. Tyler nods at me from the reception desk. Erin and Audrey are sitting in those awful orange chairs, talking. Audrey’s hand rests on her tummy. It’s swelling fast now, going from flat to round in the space of a couple weeks. She smiles and waves at me. I wave back.
As we pass the first booth, Ocean, the blue-haired tattoo artist of Damage Control, gives me a peace sign. I see more of the Damage Boyz as we walk. Shane is fixing one of the heaters, his long dark hair hiding his face, and Micah is talking to a customer, his short, blond hair standing up in spikes.
We enter Zane’s booth and find Tessa seated in a tall chair. She looks up, and her blue eyes brighten.
“Dylan.” She turns to the side, to show me her newly inked shoulder. “Isn’t it brilliant?”
I open my mouth, and close it. Try again. The hell? “A dragon? You inked a fucking dragon on her?”
Zane tsks as if I’ve asked the most idiotic question in the universe. “Of course I inked a dragon on her. What did you expect?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know, man. I thought Dakota asked you for one, and you said no. Your own girlfriend, and you refused.”
“That’s true.” He perches on his stool and picks up his tattoo gun. “Not everyone gets a dragon.”
“And why’s that?” I lean on the booth wall and cross my arms over my chest, genuinely curious.
“In my book,” he says, leaning close to Tessa and putting some final touches on the awesome blue dragon curling on her pale skin, “dragons are for those fucked over by their parents, in one way or another. Life may have screwed you over, swallowed you and spit you out. It doesn’t matter. It’s not the same. The dragon is the people who bring you into this world and then fuck your life up. So that’s why Tessa got one. Cuz her dad is a real piece of work.” He flicks a look at me. “And so was yours.”
“Leave it be, Z-man.” Yeah, I’m goddamn furious at my dad for what he did, but he died in the process, and the grief is there, right under the surface, waiting for the anger to subside so it can surface.
“I know, fucker. This isn’t just for your dad. It’s also for your mom who walked out on you. And it’s for you.” He nails me with that dark, strangely old and wise gaze. “Because you proved them both wrong by surviving and saving your brothers, too. Not just from the fire, but every day, by looking after them, protecting them. Caring for them. That’s what I’m talking about. This is your badge of honor, and it’s badass.”
Tessa snorts.
He turns back to her, lifts his pierced brow. “You don’t think it’s badass, girl?”
“Oh, it’s badass all right.” She glances down at it. “Plus, it’s my first tat.”
“But surely not the last.” Zane winks, and I rub a hand over my face, trying not to laugh. “Now you have a taste for bad, tattooed boys, you’ll want more of this. More ink. Some piercings, perhaps.” He waves a hand languidly, his gaze shrewd.
“I only want one bad, tattooed boy,” Tessa says, looking past Zane’s shoulder at me. “And he’s right here.”
My heart does a weird little flip in my chest. A good little flip that leaves me feeling warm and relaxed.
“See?” Zane doesn’t turn around, but his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “That’s so romantic. Which is why I’m giving you matching tats. Aren’t you gonna thank me, fucker?”
“Matching tats? You’re out of your fucking mind. And there’s no way in hell I’m kissing you, so just forget it.”
