Ink My Heart

“Anytime.”

Fun. The word springs into my head as the touch of his lips lingers on my forehead. We’re having fun. With that thought, I blurt, “Let me plan next Saturday?”

A slow smile spreads across his face as he nods.

Going down the ladder, I’m yelling at and thanking myself for blurting the invitation.

Chapter 14 Allie

The next morning, I peek into Ben’s room to find him sitting on the floor with pieces of his dump truck Erector set scattered around him. “You have thirty more minutes to play before it’s time to get dressed.” We always go to my parents’ on Sundays, and although Ben loves his grandparents, it’s best to warn him about any upcoming departure if it’s going to mean pulling him away from a building project.

Without glancing up from his task of connecting two pieces, he asks, “How about thirty- two minutes?”

I hide a smile behind my coffee cup in case he looks up. His five-year-old perception of time cracks me up. “All right, thirty-two minutes it is.”

“Good.” He keeps working and I head to the kitchen. I’m rinsing cereal bowls when my phone dings. Drying my hands, I glance at the text.

Breakfast?

I can’t help smiling because Justin wants to see me again so soon. I reach for my phone and type out my reply.

I wish. Super busy.

I set my phone down, but it dings again. I grab it and head toward the bathroom to shower while reading Justin’s text.

What are you wearing?

I flick on the water before responding.

Cotton.

Come on.

Tank top and shorts.

White?

Was.

Was?

Getting in shower.

Are you trying to kill me?

I’d send you a picture but they say the imagination is always better.

They’re wrong! Send! Send! Holy hell, send!

Gotta go. Shower’s running. :)

Late Sunday night, after putting Ben to bed, I’m finishing my business class homework at the dining room table when another text comes in from Justin.

How many tattoos do you have?

A slow grin spreads across my face. Happy for the interruption, I shut my book, push it to the middle of the table, and text back.

Wouldn’t you like to know.

Fuck yes.

Six.

Where?

A girl’s got to have her secrets.

I’m a man on a secret mission.

I’m busy doing laundry Monday afternoon when my phone dings in my pocket. I finish loading the washer in our little hallway closet, and before I can dig the phone out, it dings again. I’m not surprised to see Justin’s name.

Tomorrow. Meet me at the candy shop? Oh, I mean coffee shop.

I actually wish I could meet him. The memory of our date—and, okay, his kiss—has been sustaining me all day long, but I’m booked up with appointments through Friday. After walking into the living room and plopping down on the couch, I text back.

Perv. Can’t. Very busy workweek.

Damn. It’s gonna be the longest week ever. Feel like a kid waiting for X-mas morning.

Come Saturday there’ll be no unwrapping.

Peeking?

You wish.

Hell yeah.

NO peeking.

Licking then?

Licking!?

The sunflower on the back of your neck. I’ve licked it a thousand times in my imagination.

I’ll be wearing a scarf on Saturday.

Just a scarf?

Shut up.

Hours later after dinner, I tell Ben, “Time to pick up the Legos. Then hit the bathroom and brush your teeth. You’ve already had an extra ten minutes.” He lets out a sigh but at least listens and starts tossing the Legos into a bin.

Monday bedtime sucks. I’m not sure why, maybe because it’s hard to come off the weekend, but it’s definitely the worst.

I finish rinsing out the sink, then wrap up the chicken, broccoli, and buttered pasta that’s left over from dinner. When Holly stops in tomorrow morning to get clean clothes and pack a lunch, she’ll make good use of it. My phone dings, and I’m expecting the text to be from Trevor, since we still need to make plans for him to pick Ben up from school tomorrow. But it’s from Justin.

Thinking of you, wine, chocolate, and that lip ring. I’d like to suck on it right now.

Whoa. I have things to do, like putting Ben to bed and finishing a painting for class. I don’t need images in my head of Justin sucking on my lip ring to distract me. However nice they may be.

My fingers fly across the miniscule keypad on my phone.

You are a mean, mean boy. Saturday is my treat, but if you keep this up we’ll be going to Mickey D’s.

As long as they have a play place, we’re good.

Should I even ask?

Tight spaces, small tunnels, close proximity…

Okay, no Mickey D’s.

In the shop on Tuesday, I try to focus on a sketch for a new client. I bite into a chocolate chip cookie from the pack I snatched from Todd’s tattoo room and stare down at the blank paper. It’s not a very nutritious lunch, but just getting Ben to tie his shoes was an impossible task this morning, and I didn’t have time to pack any food before we rushed out the door. Nor do I have time to go out and get something. Tuesday afternoons were mostly