Page 89 of Jump on Three

He leaned his head back, looking up at me. “I will get more terrible tattoos then. More for you to touch.”

“Yes.” It took me a second to realize what he’d said. “No, no. Don’t do that. One is enough. If you were covered in these, I would never stop touching you.”

“All the more reason to do it.” He raised an eyebrow in a flirty way.

I tried to mimic his expression because Ivan was worth flirting with. “I think I’ll have trouble not touching you either way.” I ran my fingers over the Cyrillic letters above the snake. “What does this say?”

“It’s my name. ????. If I ever forget it, I can take my shirt off and look in the mirror.”

“That seems unnecessarily complicated. If you forget your name, you should go to a hospital since you’ll probably be suffering from a head injury.”

“Yes, you are right, lovely.” His fingers wrapped around my wrist. “I’m going to pull you into my lap now. You can keep touching from there.”

I tore my eyes from his tattoo to meet his. They were shining, and his mouth was tipped into a pleased little smirk.

“Oh, all right.”

Then he did exactly as he’d said, cradling me in his lap. Once I’d had my fill of his tattoo, we lay side by side, listening to music together.

It was nice.

So, so nice.

I turned my head, inspecting his profile. His eyes were closed, but he still had that same contented tip to his lips.

I liked this guy.

My lips twitched with a smile of my own when the scent of his pillow hit my senses. Pine, mint, chlorine…and now, me.

Chapter Thirty

Ivan

I closed my eyes, rolling my forehead against Evelyn’s.

She was curled in my lap, one hand down the collar of my shirt, trailing her fingertips along her favorite tattoo, the other hand cupping my cheek.

She liked my scruff. I had to shave it tonight in preparation for my father’s visit. It was one less thing for him to complain about. He’d find enough as it was. As soon as he was gone, I’d grow it back for Evelyn.

It was Friday, the eve of parents weekend. I’d been tense with anticipation for several days. My hope of my father changing his mind about coming had been dashed several hours ago when he’d messaged that he was on a plane, about to take off.

Evelyn and Delilah’s parents weren’t coming. The sisters were spending the weekend at Luciana’s family’s home. I was relieved about this. Keeping her as far from my father as I could was ideal, and her not being on campus was the best possible outcome.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Four thirty.”

“Oh dear. That means I have to go.” She slipped her hand out of my shirt and cupped my other cheek. “Rhys will be waiting for me.”

“You do not have to teach him to knit. It drives you crazy.”

“He wants to learn, though, and I’m learning how to be patient. I might be worse at that than Rhys is at knitting.”

She climbed off my lap and snagged her bag. I grinned when she held it out to me. She’d finally learned she would never carry a bag when I was around.

We started on the path back to our dorm, and she slipped her hand in mine.

This was what I’d learned about Evelyn, she initiated touch when she thought about it. The times she walked separately from me, her hands in her pockets or busy moving around, didn’t mean she wasn’t willing to be touched, she simply hadn’t thought of it.