"Bra strap tattoo?" Her laugh is more nervous than anything.
I nod. "That way it's our secret."
Her lips press together. "I, um—"
"We can do it wherever you want. Or not. This is for you, Kay. It's your body. I'm not going to tell you how to adorn it," I say.
"I can kick his ass if you want," Walker says.
She shakes her head. "No. That... that's perfect."
"You know it's gonna hurt like a bitch," Walker says.
She nods. "You know I've seen you guys do a thousand tattoos. I think I have the pain chart memorized."
He winces. "Doesn't get much worse than ribs."
"It doesn't," I agree.
She looks up at me. "I know. But... I... I think that's perfect. Let's see it."
I nod and lead her into the suite in back. Away from the window.
She slides her dress to her waist, unhooks her bra, and holds it in place.
I'm careful about applying the temporary tattoo at the perfect spot.
She's already shaking. But it's good shaking. Excitement.
"There." I peel the paper from her skin.
Her eyes go wide as she turns to the mirror. "It's perfect."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I am."
It is perfect.
Serva me, Servabo te.
Save me and I'll save you.
She hugs her chest. "Oh God. It's going to hurt a lot." She bites her lip. "What if I can't handle it?"
"You can," I say.
"What if I chicken out with just an s on my skin?"
"You won't." I stare back into her eyes. "You've survived a lot worse than a ten-minute rib tattoo."
She nods.
"Everyone is scared to get their first piece."
"You were?"
I nod. "Of course."