“Yeah, we are.” I run my fingers up and down her arm.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Uh oh,” I reply. “Last time you started with that, it turned into a whole therapy session.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Always.”
“Do you haveJaxon Holmestattooed on your body?”
I erupt in laughter. I guess we’ve never been naked together this way before. We were never the cuddling type before tonight, at least not after sex.
“I do.”
“Why?” This time, she laughs. “Do you have all of the guys tattooed on your body?”
“Kind of,” I respond, her eyes narrow.
“You’re serious.”
“When I was sixteen, I lost a bet with the guys, and my punishment was to get a tattoo.”
“Of Jaxon’s name?”
“Not technically,” I continue. “I was supposed to get Jax’s face tattooed on my body, but because I was only sixteen, they needed parental consent. And when I called my mom, I was hoping she’d say no, so—”
“You didn’t look like a wimp for backing out of a bet?”
“Exactly. So, I called my mom, and she said no, which I was so relieved about.” I pause. “But then she said I could get his nametattooed on my body instead. She thought it was just as funny as the guys did.”
“You’ve had his name tattooed on your body since you were sixteen?”
“Yup.” I chuckle. “Crazy enough, it started my love for tattoos, mainly because I didn’t want it to be as noticeable.”
“Where are the tattoos for the other guys?”
I adjust my arm and point to the hockey sticks and puck tattooed on the back of that same arm, “I have all our numbers tattooed around this. And thenRockford Universityisin the center of the puck. Eventually, I’ll have frozen four champions and the year underneath the sticks.”
“Do the guys make fun of you for having their numbers tattooed on your arm?”
“Nah, I have so many tattoos I don’t think they care. Every important person in my life is represented by a tattoo on my body… or multiple. This,” I point to my chest, “is a group of lyrics from my mom’s favorite song. And on my other arm, I have a sentence from a letter my mom gave me after we found out she was sick. It’s in her handwriting.”
“That’s really sweet,” she rests her head back on my chest, “I don’t know how I didn’t notice them before.”
“You knew I had tattoos,” I begin, “it’s not crazy that you didn’t know what they were before today. We aren’t usually this cuddly when we’re—”
“Naked?” she cuts meoff.
“Exactly.”
“So, every important person in your life is represented by a tattoo?” she says, looking up at me. “Where’s mine?”
I can see the small smile pulling at her lips, letting me know she’s teasing me.
“How do you know I don’t already have one?”
Her eyebrow pops up like she’s challenging me. “Oh yeah? Do I even want to know?”