“Oh my fucking, God. River.Please. I am begging you to turn off the dad rock.” I hear Peyton whine as I get back to the front of the shop.
River gasps dramatically. “You shut your blasphemous mouth right now! This isn’t dad rock, it’s blink-182!”
“Same thing, dude.” Peyton grumbles and I laugh, a big full bodied thing. These people are so warm and comfortable with each other. Like a little family. I love it. I want to… fuck I really want to be a part of this.
“What’s got you laughing like that?”
I suck in a breath and spin to find Sage leaning against the door, her face soft as she looks between me and Peyton. I like that look on her, a little too much. “Oh.” I breathe out. “Just Peyton.”
“Hm” Sage hums out, closing the space between us until she’s standing right in front of me. “A big birdie told me you want a tattoo?”
I huff a laugh. “Um, yes. I wanted to get the little croissant I was telling you about before.” I point to the side of my wrist on my left hand. “Right here.”
Her smile is slow as she runs a finger over the spot I pointed to. I fight the shiver trying to roll through my body at the contact. “I think we can do that for you, Em. Follow me on back.”
I trail behind her, watching as she moves about her space. It’s like she’s gliding around. Like a magical, ethereal being coming alive in their own world. I watch as she wipes down the chair before she motions for me to sit down. “Okay, so did you have any specific vision for what you want this little bun to look like?” She asks with a cheeky smile.
“A croissant.” I say with a laugh. “And kind of.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and show her the simplistic line drawing I had found online last night. “It doesn’t have to be exactly like this, but this is what I was thinking about.”
She grabs my phone to get a closer look and nods. “Perfect, gimme a few minutes and I can draw it up and we’ll get the stencil placed and see if you want anything changed and if not we’ll get started.”
“Sounds good, Sage.” I say softly. I watch as she grabs an iPad and draws the tiny pastry. She prints it out onto some special paper, gently cutting the image out before she walks back over to me. She pulls her stool over so she’s sitting as close to me as possible and holds her hand out.
“Alright, Emma. Gimme that wrist.” She says playfully. I reach my hand over and suck in a breath when her gloved hand wraps around my wrist. She turns it so that the inside of it is facing her. I watch her as she shaves the area and puts… deodorant on the spot. She must see my confused face because she laughs and says, “It helps make the stencil transfer to your skin.”
I’ll take her word on that one.
She rubs the stencil against my skin and pulls it away gently. “Alright. Take a look at tell me if the placement is okay, or if you want to change anything before I ink it on you. Speak now, because I don’t know if you know this, but once it’s on there it’s not coming off.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes. I may not have any tattoos, but I do know how they work.”
She laughs and my stomach flips at the sound. God, she’s so fucking pretty. I want to make her laugh and smile like that all the time. I push the feelings down though, because I know I have this giant crush, but I doubt she’s ready to hear or know about it. We’re justfriends.
“It looks perfect.” I whisper, staring at the blue line drawing on my wrist.
“Then let’s get you tatted.” She says with a wink and I can’t help but laugh at how silly she’s being right now. I haven’t seen this side of her in so so long. I’m aching for it. I missed this, missed her.
She gets her machine set up and I watch, mesmerized, as she moves quickly and efficiently. It’s obvious she’s done this so many times, it’s second nature to her. Almost like muscle memory, it’s the same way I am in the kitchen.
“Okay, ready?” She asks, grabbing my wrist. The sound of her machine buzzing surrounds us and I just nod. I don’t even feel the pain when she starts because all I can focus on is the warmth and electricity that is searing up my arm from the contact of her hand on my wrist.
“You okay?” She asks, noticing how deeply I’m breathing. Little does she know it isn’t from pain, but from how badly I wish she’d touch me like this outside of this place.
“Yup. Almost done?”
She moves the needle a little longer and then shuts her machine off. Wetting a paper towel from some bottle of liquid at her station she wipes my wrist off, clearing the excess ink from my skin and smiles softly at me. “What do you think?”
I stare at it for longer than I probably need to. The dainty line’s swooping together to create the tiny little croissant. “It’s perfect.” I look up and find Sage staring at me. “Thank you so much.”
“Yeah, of course.” She says softly. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll get it all wrapped up for you and then we can go over aftercare and everything. There’s a sheet with all that information on it as well with Peyton up at the desk in case you don’t remember everything later.”
I nod, but I’m not really hearing what she’s saying to me. My thoughts are racing almost as quickly as my heart is and before I realize it the words are spilling from my mouth. “Sage. Would you go to dinner with me tonight?”
Her eyes widen, brows going up to her hairline and I try to backtrack. Fuck. I don’t want her to say no. “As friends. A friendly, friend dinner.” I say and force a laugh that even to me sounds like I’ve lost my fucking mind. “Um, as a thank you for this.” I say raising my hand.
“Oh.” She says, her mouth forming an O that I’d find funny if I wasn’t currently sweating bullets. “Yeah. That sounds good. I’m done here at seven tonight.”
“I’ll meet you there? Seven thirty? We can go to…” I wrack my brain for any restaurant in town that isn’t the cafe or the diner down the street. “Um.”
