"Celtic symbols."
"Does it hurt?"
"Tattoos?"
"Yeah."
"Irritating but not necessarily painful." His lips turned up on one side before he asked, "Are you inked?"
I almost choked on my coffee with that question before I offered rather weakly, "No, it's so permanent. I'd only do it if I knew with absolute certainty that what I wanted done I'd want forever. How often is anyone that sure?"
"It's just as well. You have beautiful skin, Ember. It would be a crime for you to mark it."
I blushed at his words, which made him smile, before I asked, "Can I see the tat on your arm?"
I knew I threw him with that question but he recovered quickly before agreeing.
He reached for my hand and pulled me from the sidewalk to the shade of a tree before he took off his jacket and pulled his t-shirt sleeve up over his shoulder. My mouth went dry watching the play of his muscles from that simple act. I handed my cup to him before I took his arm in both of my hands and really studied the scene.
Hades was depicted as half-monster/half-man, sitting upon his throne, naked and aroused. Above him, angels flew but they were in one of three poses: hear no evil, see no evil and speak no evil. Below him were bodies, elongated and distorted, like the masked dude from Scream. They were climbing on and clawing at each other trying to escape the pit. The entire scene was surrounded with fire: brilliant orange, red and yellow flames that looked to be dancing up his arm. I ran my finger over one particular flame that started out red but faded to orange and then to yellow as it grew; the transition was seamless and the work was so flawlessly executed.
"It's beautiful. How long did it take?"
He didn't answer me so I looked up and when I did it was into dark eyes that were watching me with such intensity it had my heart flipping over in my chest.
"Twelve hours."
I was so enthralled with the look in his eyes that it took me a minute to realize that he had answered me. Even when I realized that he had, I made no move away from him since it was as if I was locked there, held firmly in place by the emotions I saw burning in those eyes.
I realized I was still holding his arm, and as much as it pained me to let it go, to lose that physical connection with him, I reluctantly released it and took a step back. A moment or two passed when we just stared at each other and then a loud honk of a horn seemed to bring us back to reality as he handed me my coffee before he slipped on his jacket.
"Are you heading home?"
"Yes."
"How's the roommate?" He studied me for a moment before he offered, "That good?"
"My dad warned me of some things and sadly I've been witnessing first hand just how right he was. I'm just surprised that I hadn't seen them before."
"What -- that your friend isn't much of a friend?"
My eyes widened at that as I looked up at him. "Yeah, exactly that."
"She's jealous of you."
I took a sip of my coffee as I pondered his comment. "No, I don't think so."
"She's jealous and she has every reason to be from where I'm standing."
I couldn't deny the delicious thrill that his very matter-of-fact comment stirred in me but I wasn't as convinced. He seemed to know where my thoughts were when he added, "If I met your friend and she brought me home and I saw you -- no contest. She probably knows that, too."
"Well, I suspect you take repeated punches to the head so maybe it's not all working right up there."
His grin was wicked as he lowered his head so his lips could brush over my ear.
"I have a secret -- want to hear it?"
I was breathless having him so close to me so could only answer by nodding my head.
His breath was warm against my skin, tickling my ear causing goosebumps to rise on my flesh, and when he spoke it was just barely over a whisper, "I have a really hard head." And then he pressed a kiss just above my ear before he pulled back and grinned. I spoke what I was thinking.
"I might swoon."
"I'll catch you, Ember, I won't let you fall."
He reached for my hand and linked our fingers.
"Let's get you home."
A week passed and I hadn't seen Trace once. I knew it was intentional. I knew he was trying to put distance between us. I did, however, run into his friend Rafe. That I just happened on him in Starbucks made me wonder if it wasn't a coincidence.
"Hi, Ember."
"Hi, Rafe. How's Loki?"
"Trouble." He said that with a grin. As I watched him his smile faded before he asked, "Can we talk?"
"Sure."
Rafe walked me to a table and held my chair before folding himself into the chair opposite me.
He seemed to take an unusual interest in the surface of the table so I asked, "What's up, Rafe?"