Page 37 of You Only Need One
“Seriously, Ben, why are you …” My question peters off because I finally catch a glimpse of what he’s revealing. Then, I get an eyeful.
A car horn honks, and I flinch, realizing I’ve slowed down at a green light.
“Okay, wait. I can’t drive while you’re doing this. Just give me a second.”
Thankfully, he nods, and I check for open spaces along the sidewalk. Once I’ve pulled into an empty spot, I put the car in park and turn to face him.
“Are those tattoos?”
Ben nods again and releases a few more buttons until he’s revealed close to half of his chest.
Like the ink on his skin is magnetic, I can’t help reaching over to touch the designs. My fingers hesitate before they land on his skin because, even if we’re friends, that doesn’t mean I can start feeling him up without his permission. Instead, I meet his wide eyes.
“Do you mind?”
Tight-lipped, he shakes his head, so I finish my gesture, fingering the first tattoo I caught sight of. From what I can see, it appears to be the bow of a ship, and when I push his shirt open further, the rest of it is exposed along with more pictures. There’s a shovel with a pair of shoes dangling from the handle, a bat in flight, a castle surrounded by trees, and the head of a blue dragon.
The tattoos are not a continuous scene, but somehow, the shapes and lines of each seem to complement each other. Ben has a colorful collage on his chest, and it’s all I can do to keep from undoing the last few buttons to discover how far it goes.
“These are amazing! How many do you have?”
“I stopped counting after twenty.” His voice sounds weird.
When I take my eyes off his ink, I find Ben watching me with his lips pinched tightly between his teeth.
Does he think I’ll judge him?
Honestly, I’m just trying to let my mind catch up.
Never would I have guessed that glasses-wearing Ben with his pre-law status and rich family would reveal this. Sure, tattoos are becoming more popular, and if he’d told me he had one or two, I wouldn’t have thought much about it. But this is a different level.
“How far do they go?” I brush my hand down his warm chest to emphasize my question.
He shivers under my touch.
We’re getting close fast, but I can’t seem to retract my hand. I want to see more.
Ben clears his throat. “My whole chest and back. Shoulders. My upper thighs and … my ass.”
Normally, curse words put me on edge and make me flinch. But, when Ben lets that one slip, my cheeks warm as I imagine what kind of ink he might have on those firm mounds.
I need to stop touching him before I ask for a private show.
With the will of an Amazon warrior, I pull myself back and settle into my seat, hands tucked in my lap, fingers laced so that I won’t stretch them out for another caress. There’s been enough time spent touching my new friend. He’s not a goat in a petting zoo.
“So, you made sure you could cover them up?”
“Exactly. Tattoos might be more mainstream now, but no one wants a lawyer who’s sporting visible ink. Also, my parents …” He lets that sentence trail off as he pops the buttons back in place.
As his chest disappears, I want to protest, but I can’t think of a logical reason to demand that he not wear a shirt.
“Your parents don’t know about them?”
Ben gives a half-shrug, half-headshake. “They know I have a few. But they’ve never been fans, so I stopped telling them.”
He reaches up to scratch his neck, and I’m suddenly very annoyed at Mr. and Mrs. Gerhard.
“I’m sorry. I think they’re beautiful.”