“Don’t push it, Nikki.” He points at me. Now it’s my turn to put my hands up in surrender while biting down on my smile. He looks down at my lips as I do, then runs a hand through his hair. “We don’t know each other very well. Maybe we should fix that. At least for the sake of this trip.”
I cross my arms over my chest and tap my chin, pretending to contemplate his offer. Like I’d pass up on the opportunity to best Antonio with questions about his broody self. But it can’t hurt to make him sweat a bit. Hmm, wonder how he looks while sweaty…
Hard stop, girl.
“Okay, I think we can manage that.” I shrug, and Antonio visibly relaxes.
Kelsey arrives with Antonio’s beer and a few small plates. She lets us know she’ll be back shortly with more food. Once she’s out of earshot, Antonio starts. “So, why did—”
“Nuh-uh, me first. The tattoos. When did all this happen?” I wave at his body.
He shakes his head, but I can see that he’s amused by my enthusiasm. “Got my first in college. And I’ve added one or two a year since. Nothing crazy.” He takes a bite of a bougie-looking puff pastry and nods in approval. “So—”
“No, wait. There’s a part two to this question. How did Anna let this fly? She was so strict about her kids not getting tattoos. So much so that when she watched my Instagram story of Amelia and me out in Miami getting matching best friend tattoos, she called Amelia up immediately and shut that shit down. Too bad it wasaftermine was halfway finished. Do you know how lonely it is to get a bestie tattoo with no bestie?” I exclaim.
Antonio genuinely laughs at this, and I don’t appreciate the warm and fuzzy feelings that stir in me. “I remember that day. Mom was furious. Serves you right for posting it on social media. Evan told me he was able to locate Amelia out one night because you kept posting your location. Not safe, by the way,” he lectures. “But to answer your question, I kept it a secret for a while. Got tatted in spots she’d never see.” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively. “Not like that, you perve.” I giggle as he continues. “But one day, I reached for something and the sleeve of my T-shirt rode up and she saw it. I can’t tell you how many times she made the cross motion over her body and asked God for my forgiveness… and my mom wasn’t even that religious.” He smiles sweetly at the memory. “Anyway, once she realized they weren’t going to scrub off, she made me promise to only have them in places that wouldn’t be visible in dress shirts and pants. And to be honest, I thought it was a reasonable request. I’ve never wanted my tattoos to be the first thing people see when I walk into a room. They’re for me…” He pauses. “And I guess for the lucky onlookers that get to see me with my shirt off while on vacation.” He fakes seriousness.
I look from side to side. “Wait. Was that you trying to make a joke or something? Have we progressed to that level of friendliness already?” He stuffs his face with a lobster taco so he doesn’t have to answer me. “So what’s your favorite tattoo?”
“Nope. My turn. What tattoo did you get the day Amelia backed out?”
“You’re going to think it’s stupid, and I kinda like this peaceful vibe we got going on, so I don’t wanna give you any new ammo against me.”
“I won’t say anything. I promise.” He plates another lobster taco and places it in front of me. Is this a literal peace offering? Well, shit. Looks like I’m taking it.
I shift to my side and raise my left arm, revealing the small tattoo that rests high on my ribcage. “It’s one-half of a heart.” With a jagged zigzag running down the middle. No bigger than a quarter.
Antonio leans in for a closer look and lifts his hand. He hovers for a moment, just about to make contact with my skin, before deciding against it, and leans away. “Why half?”
It takes me a second to confirm that he’s not mocking me, so I put my arm down and face him again. “Amelia and I met at a party during our freshman year. We instantly connected and stayed attached at the hip that night. We avoided all the frat boys and instead danced the night away under a cheap disco ball. At the end of the night, we ripped some tinsel foil curtains and made each other friendship bracelets. We vowed that day to buy the real thing, the kind that have broken heart charms that, when connected, spellbest friends. A few years later, that idea morphed into getting it tattooed. But as you know, your mom put the kibosh on that while I was still in the tattoo chair. So I asked the tattoo artist to leave the inside blank.” I shrugged. “So it may be silly, but it marked the beginning of our friendship and the night I’ll forever be grateful for. Plus, not being a complete version of something kind of resonates with my life, but that’s a story for a different day.” I take a bite out of the taco to distract from my slip at the end.
“We’re gonna have to circle back to that at some point.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“Maybe, maybe not. Answer my last question that you avoided. Which is your favorite tattoo?”
“You know there’s more we can chat about than body art in order to get to know one another.”
“I know, but you’ve avoided this question twice now, so naturally, I’m like a dog with a bone.” I shimmy in my chair.
“It’s not a dance in your chair kind of story, and I’m pretty sure it’ll bring down the mood.” He pauses as I keep taking bites of various finger foods. “Last warning.”
I sit up straight, wiping my mouth with a napkin, and give Antonio my full attention. “Well, if it’s your favorite, I still want to hear about it.”
He blows out a heavy breath. “It’s the angel wings below my neck.” He throws his legs over the opposite side of the lounger and turns his body fully until I can see his back. At any other moment, I would have taken the time to appreciate his back muscles. But the second he said angel wings, I felt a lump forming in my throat.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, barely above a whisper.
He turns back around and studies my sullen expression. “Told ya it would bring down the mood.” He offers a forced smile.
I reach forward and put my hand on top of his and give it a little squeeze. “Tell me why it’s your favorite.”
He holds my gaze, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like there are no walls standing between us. It’s just us in that moment, and for a split second, I’m almost taken back to the night we met. But before those familiar memories come flooding back to me, he starts. “Before my mom was admitted into hospice, she was bedridden at home. I went to visit her every day. During her last few weeks, she made a joke about not caring if I got more tattoos after she passed. I asked if she would be offended if I ever got one in her honor, since she was initially so against them. Turns out she said she wanted a front-row seat to my next tattoo before… before she was gone.” He swallows deeply, then meets my eyes. “But first, she had two rules she wanted me to follow.” He smiles softly. “I could never get a woman’s name tattooed on my body. That was a bighell nofor her. The only amendment to that rule was if I had a family with this woman, but she still thought it was safer to err on the side of caution and just not do it.” He chuckles. “The other rule was that my future tattoos should only be about things that are deeply meaningful to me. She was referring to a couple of my early spontaneous tattoos. That rule didn’t really matter, because no other tattoo would compare to the one I would get for her, and I vowed to myself that it would be my final one.” He stares at the pool as he continues. “So I was able to convince my favorite tattoo artist to come to my parents’ apartment and do this piece at my mom’s bedside. She held my hand during the whole process. I never felt the needle. Just the faint grip she held on to me with.” His eyes shine with unshed tears. “She was gone before the tattoo fully healed.”
I will my tears to stay at bay, but it’s futile. I make quick work of wiping them away and stand. Antonio regards me cautiously as I hold out a hand for him to join me. Once up, I ask, “Can I hug you, Tony? I feel like you could use a hug. Or maybe it’s just me who needs one?”
After a few seconds, Antonio nods once. And that’s all the permission I need to wrap my arms around his center. When my cheek presses to his chest, his body tenses. I realize then that hugging while he’s shirtless might be uncomfortable for him, and that I probably should have thought about that before I initiated this. As I lift my cheek to take a step back, he wraps one arm around my lower back and the other behind my neck. His fingers cradle my head while also threading through my hair. I sink into him once more just as I feel him release a deep breath.
This feels nice.
