Grace turned and looked at me. “Your choice,” she said.
What? She couldn’t be giving me such a responsibility. “No way. I’m not choosing your tattoo. You have to live with it . . .” I nearly said “until you die” but I didn’t like to be so cursory with those kinds of words. I knew how close death was to us all. Did my parents have tattoos? I’d never noticed any. And now I’d never know. My chest grew tight. I didn’t like to think about them, about the impermanent nature of life. Jesus, this seemed like a bad idea. “This is too permanent, Grace. We should go.”
She took my wrist, pulling my hand from my hair. “I don’t do things I don’t want to. Please, Sam.” The lilt of her words and her skin against mine soothed me. “Choose something.” Didn’t she realize that what she was asking me to do was too much? I could imagine Angie maybe asking. Or perhaps a married couple, but I’d know Grace such a short time and we were nothing to each other. Not really.
She slid up onto the purple reclining tattoo chair and watched me. “Come on. We haven’t got all day. We’ve got dining furniture to shop for. Pick what you think would look good.” She smiled and it lit up her face. Right then I would have done anything she’d told me to do.
I shook my head in mock exasperation. I’d choose because she asked me and not because I wanted to. Maybe because I wanted to be something to her. “Okay, lie down, Princess, and I’ll come up with something.”
One of the binders was open on the wooden desk at the back of the room and I began to flip through it. What should it be? A quote about art? She’d said I should pick what I liked. Did she trust me that much?
I glanced over my shoulder at her and she was watching me as I watched her. I wanted to go over and touch her, kiss her, hold her.#p#分页标题#e#
I took a breath. I knew what the tattoo should be.
Lowering my voice so she wouldn’t hear, I explained to the tattoo artist what I wanted. Just two words in cursive font. It wouldn’t take long and shouldn’t hurt too much.
“You want yours where I have mine?” I asked. She nodded and turned on her side as she lifted up her blouse, revealing the side of her ribs. Her alabaster skin was so perfectly flawless. It shouldn’t be marked. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked. “I told you, I’ll buy whatever you want.”
“Yes, I want to do this.”
I pulled up a chair. “Can I dare you not to?” I didn’t want her to do this for me. Or not because I’d asked her, not as a deal anyway.
“No,” she said. “I’m committed.”
“What happens if I’ve asked him to tattoo a gigantic turd on your ribcage?”
I expected her to laugh but she just looked at me. “I trust you.”
My heart twanged. She trusted me so easily—too easily.
The buzz of the machine starting up interrupted my inner conflict.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
She took a deep breath and nodded. Underneath her delicate exterior was a strong, feisty woman made of steel.
The tattoo artist stood at her waist, and I sat to his right, opposite her head.
I leaned forward and took her hands in mine. “Squeeze tight.”
As the pen touched her skin, she crinkled her nose, shutting her eyes, but she didn’t make a sound. The tattoo I’d chosen wouldn’t take long.
“Grace,” I said. “Look at me.” I wanted her to see the confidence I had in her.
Our eyes locked and with every moment that passed, the connection between us grew. I willed her pain away and she trusted me to do that for her.
“There you go,” the artist said as he turned off the machine a few minutes later. “All done.”
Grace grinned at me. “I can’t believe I got a tattoo.”
I couldn’t believe it either. And she hadn’t made a sound, hadn’t complained even a little bit about the pain. Strong as steel.
“How does it look?” she asked.
I stood and leaned over her. Her skin was slightly red but it looked beautiful. I wanted to reach out and trail my fingers over the marks. They suited her so much. Each word had meaning to me. The text was small and neat and pretty—just as I’d asked.
“You want to see?” I asked. “I can take a picture on my phone.”
I took out my cell, took a shot of the tattoo, then stepped back and snapped one of her face. She looked so gorgeous, I couldn’t resist.
“Hey,” she said. “Give me that.”
I swiped so the photo showing her tattoo was on the screen and handed it to her.