Page 54 of Hinder


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“Okay, but let’s all get dinner tonight.” Trent nods.

I smile at him. “Sounds great.”

Sean points at Leighton, then me. “We’ll text you. Don’t be late or we’ll send the hounds.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be there.” I almost want to roll my eyes.

“We’re both grown-ups,” Leighton says.

“That’s debatable.” Sean laughs and shakes his head.

Trent levels me with his serious stare. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” And I will, but both he and Sean are acting absolutely ridiculous right now. I don’t know what it’s like to have two older brothers, but I imagine it’s not far from this. I grab Leighton’s arm and walk away before they try to attach a tracking device.

“That was strange.” Leighton chuckles, but by his stiff posture he doesn’t find it all that humorous.

“Yeah.” I let loose a long breath and shake my head. “They’ve become really protective.”

“They’re looking out for you.”

They are, and it brings a smile to my face. I appreciate his protectiveness. I’ve never had that before. “So, we’re really getting tattoos?”

He flashes a smile. “Oh, yeah. At least I am. I found a shop that opens in an hour. Want to grab some breakfast and then head over?”

“Yeah.” I can’t keep the smile from my voice and even my steps feel lighter and free as we stroll down the street. The day is full of possibility and there’s a voice inside that begs me to rise to the occasion. To throw responsibility to the wind, and live in the moment. It’s more than a little terrifying, but I’m feeling extra brave.

* * *

After a breakfastwhich Leighton insists on paying for, he calls us an Uber for the trek across town to Ripley’s Tattoos. They have an artist who’s accepting walk-ins for the day, and after perusing her portfolio we both put our names down to wait for Avery.

Nerves don’t hit until now. Inside the waiting area, the buzz of needles and the thick scent of ink permeate the air. My gut churns with apprehension and my body feels restless just sitting around so I stand and walk back to the digital touch-screen kiosk. I flip through pages of completed tattoos to have something to do with my hands.

Leighton joins me within minutes. “Hey, if you’re having second thoughts or don’t want to—”

“No. I want this.” I lift my gaze to his.

His lips pull up at the edges with the beginning of a smile. “Your face says otherwise.”

I’ve always been easy to read. Wear my heart on my sleeve, along with my worries, so I can understand his concern. Appreciate it even. But there’s no way I’ll let a few nervous butterflies get the best of me. Not now. “I have to do this.”

His brow scrunches with concern and he lowers his voice. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I need to.” I swallow to gather my thoughts and explain this to him. “My whole life I’ve been told what I can and can’t do. I’m tired of living for someone else.”

I expect an argument but find his face full of understanding. “I get that.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No. I’m not. I grew up with lots of opportunity, but what I could do with that? It’s always been decided for me. Until now.” He chuckles and reaches his hand back to rub against his neck. “My parents wouldn’t approve of a tattoo. Hell, they pretty much disowned me the second I decided to go on this tour.”

“Really?” My heart sinks at the thought of any parent pushing away their child. Not that I knew my parents, but I like to think they’d be accepting of me, maybe even proud.

He laughs but it falls flat. “Yeah, that’s how much they hate rock music.”

The need to console him overwhelms me. “That must hurt.”

“It’s fine.” He glances down to the screen and where I left off. He points to a daisy. “That’s nice.” He’s trying to change the conversation and maybe I should let it go, but there’s this need within that pushes to ask for more.