All of You

by Christina Lee

  how to use his fingers as well.

  That boy had skills. So he had to have had some practice. Or he was just a natural.

  Bennett scanned the waiting room before his eyes locked on mine. Then they reluctantly glided

  over to my friend. “You ready, Ella?”

  “Yep.” She hopped up. “Okay if Avery comes back, too?”

  “No problem,” he said, giving me a sidelong grin. He knew how nervous Ella was about this

  appointment. My eyes roamed around the room, nervous I’d see Bennett’s boss, Oliver, here. But maybe

  he’d act cool about seeing me. I was only a one-night stand. One that he’d tried to turn into a date the next night. But I’d turned him down, and we hadn’t been in contact since.

  We followed Bennett through the tight hallway lined with framed pictures of tattoos on actual

  clients. A colorful butterfly on someone’s lower back caught my eye. The smell of antiseptic filled the

  air, but another odor infiltrated my senses as Bennett moved confidently through the space: coconuts.

  “Right in here.” He motioned to a large glass table with four chairs. I noticed a small black desk

  along the far wall where Bennett’s laptop and iPod were plugged in. The music piping through this room

  was different—more soothing, less angry. Probably helped his clients relax.

  “Let’s get down to business, Ella.” Bennett sounded much more formal than I’d ever heard him.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Ella bit her lip. “I’m pretty sure I know what I want, but I’d like to see some of your work first—do

  you have any samples?”

  “Of course.” He reached down to the ground for a thick white binder and placed it in front of her.

  “Here’s my portfolio.”

  “Don’t even roll your eyes at me, dickhead,” Ella hissed. “I’m just making sure.”

  I shook my head and snickered. “Dude, I haven’t said a word.”

  Ella opened the book and started paging through. I tried looking with her, but Bennett’s gaze

  pressed into me like a weight, and I couldn’t look away, or take a decent breath for that matter. He

  seemed different here in his element—more confident, sure of himself—and I’ll admit it unnerved me.

  I wore my hair in a low ponytail and I could tell he was trying to get a good view of the tattoo

  behind my ear. I absently glided the stray pieces of my hair behind my ears. I looked down at the book

  every time Ella pointed something out, but Bennett’s eyes were like a magnet. I had trouble glancing

  anywhere else.

  The way Bennett gazed at me was so different from other guys—it wasn’t vulgar or offensive, just

  plain hot. Blistering. And it only made me want him more.

  “These are amazing, Bennett,” Ella said after another five minutes. “Thanks.” Bennett’s cheeks grooved into a shy grin. “So, did it help you decide?”

  She flipped to the page bookmarked by her thumb. It showed a small dragonfly, an image I knew

  she had been considering, and had hoped to find in Bennett’s work. She pointed to it. “This one. Except,

  can I get different colors shaded in?”

  “Of course. You need to make it what you want,” he said. His voice was smooth and confident,

  different than he’d been when he’d first kissed me and that night at the hotel when I’d gone to him in the

  shower. I liked this confident side of Bennett. He’d been this way with his family, too. “So, why a

  dragonfly? What does it mean to you?”

  “Um . . .” Ella stumbled over his question, possibly unsure of answering him. Maybe she thought

  her reasoning was lame, but I knew it wasn’t. It was meaningful and powerful.

  Bennett cleared his throat. “When a client’s about to get something permanently inked on their

  skin, they should ask themselves an important question.”

  “What’s that?” Ella asked.

  “‘Am I getting this because I like dragonflies this year, or is this symbolic—does it have a deeper

  meaning?’” Bennett said, digging out a drawing pad and pencils. “Because tastes change. And I’m

  telling you this because you seem nervous about it.”

  Ella’s shoulders relaxed and she took a deep breath.

  “It does mean something to you, Ella,” I said, nudging her along. Ella’s brother died when we were

  in high school, and understandably, she was devastated. We all were. Ella said when they were kids, they

  loved weekends at their grandmother’s cottage, where they’d swim and fish and try to capture

  dragonflies that raced across the lake—along with every other bug under the sun. On the day of

  Christopher’s funeral, Ella swore up and down that a dragonfly flew by her at the cemetery.

  “Hey, it’s really none of my business. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Bennett said, low

  and gentle. “I was just trying to help—to give you more confidence.”

  “It . . . it reminds me of my brother—he died a couple of years ago.” Bennett’s eyes softened.

  “Goddamn, I’m sorry, Ella,” he said, his voice strained. “The dragonfly is a nice idea if it’s a tribute

  to your brother. Do you feel better about your decision?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said. “And thank you.”

  Bennett nodded as he drew on his sketch pad. His hand moved fast and steady as a dragonfly began

  taking shape. After seeing his other drawings, I knew this one was small potatoes for him. He could

  probably do it in his sleep.

  “Where did you want the tattoo to go?”

  “I was thinking above my ankle,” Ella said, wringing her hands. “What do you think, Avery?”

  “Sounds perfect,” I said, suddenly glad I’d decided to come with her. Not that she would’ve given

  me the choice. “And you can cover it up if you need to.”

  “What colors do you want me to shade in?” Bennett asked, his fingers roaming over the colored

  pencils next to him.

  “Blues and greens,” she said, her eyebrows arching upward in excitement.

  He chose two colors, and then swirls of cobalt blue and sea green came alive on the page.

  “Something like this?”

  Ella squealed. “I love it.”

  “If you want to wait out there, or grab some coffee and come back, I can draw this up on transfer

  paper,” he said. “We can have it done and over with today.”

  “Today?” Ella suddenly looked nervous again.

  “Perfect.” I stood up and pulled Ella with me. “Enough deliberating. Bite the damn bullet already.”

  Bennett smiled. “Give me some time and I’ll come get you.”

  “We’ll go across the street and make her eat something,” I said. “Text me when you’re ready.”

  Bennett reached for his phone when it occurred to both of us that we didn’t have each other’s cell

  numbers. I guess it was unnecessary when you lived in the same building. I punched my number into his keypad and handed it back to him. “See you soon.”

  Ella and I walked to the bagel shop across the street, where we ordered coffees and sandwiches.

  Ella only nibbled on a few crumbs, she was so nervous.

  “It’s small, and it’ll be over with before you know it,” I said, trying to reassure her. “It’s going to

  look so cool. And you’ll be happy you finally got it.”

  My cell buzzed with a message. My stomach clenched with the anticipation of Bennett texting me.

  I looked at my phone and saw it was Rachel. Rachel: Did she do it?

  Me: She’s about to.

  Rachel: Tell the bitch I said good luck.

  Me: Will do.

&n
bsp; “Rachel says good luck,” I said. I left off the bitch part. It was such a common term of endearment

  connecting the three of us, Ella probably added it in her own head automatically.

  “If Rachel were here, I bet she’d have no qualms about getting that huge tattoo on her back that

  she’s always talked about,” Ella said, snorting. “God, I envy you guys some times.”

  “Envy us for what?” I asked, biting my bagel.

  “For just letting loose and going with the flow.”

  “Um, obviously you haven’t gotten my latest memo,” I said around a mouthful. “I haven’t been

  able to let loose and go with anything lately. Not even with Rob.”

  “You had an amazing, orgasmic weekend with Bennett, and now he’s ruined other guys for you,”

  Ella said. “Don’t even try denying it. See what Hot Boy’s done?”

  “Oh, I see it every night when I’m lying in bed alone. Or should I say, feel it.”

  “It’s not so bad having the same boy in your bed every night. You should try it some time,” she

  said, and I scrunched up my nose. “In fact, I’ll have me some Joel tonight. Can’t wait to surprise him

  with my new tattoo.” “You’ll for sure get some tonight.”

  My phone buzzed on the table and I felt that familiar pull in my belly. Bennett: I’m ready for you.

  Damn if my heart didn’t leap at those words. And certain other parts of me, too. Me: Are you now?

  Bennett: I am. Are you?

  Me: Been ready.J See you in five minutes.

  “What’s the goofy grin for?”

  “I don’t have a goofy grin. C’mon, Bennett’s waiting.”

  “I doubt he’s waiting for me.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You may not want to admit this, dickhead, but you’re already in deep,” Ella said following me to

  the door. “You haven’t picked up any other guys since you met Bennett.”

  “Then I guess it’s time to change that.” My words sounded about as hollow as my determination.

  “Whatever you say, bitch,” she said, swinging around me to push through the exit. “You’re coming

  to the clambake at the frat house this weekend, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  We stepped inside Raw Ink, and receptionist Holly motioned for us to head to the back.

  Bennett wore black plastic gloves and was fiddling with his tools as if he were about to perform a

  sexy experiment. The longing in his eyes upon seeing me told me all I needed to know about whether he

  still thought about our weekend together.

  “Lie back in this seat and get comfortable,” Bennett said. Ella folded herself into a black leather

  chair that reminded me of something from a dentist’s office. Then he pulled the lever to make a footrest

  pop up. “There you go.”

  After he set up his work area, he picked up the transfer paper. He rubbed a light layer of ointment on her ankle, placed the transfer paper on her skin, and pressed down. I realized again just how intimate

  this type of procedure could be.

  When I got my tattoo, the girl was totally professional. And I expected nothing less from Bennett.

  So why were my palms sweaty just watching how his fingers delicately braced my best friend’s leg?

  “What do you think?” Bennett asked her once the transfer was complete. This drawing was even

  better than the sample he’d sketched for us at the table. He had taken more time to make it shine,

  obviously.

  Ella beamed. “I think it’s awesome.”

  “Cool,” Bennett said, and then looked at me. “How about you, Ms. Michaels? Do you approve?”

  His eyes became hooded, and I crossed my legs in response. “Looks good, Mr. Reynolds.”

  “Enough with the formality, you two,” Ella said. “Unless this is some sort of Regency-era sexual

  fantasy being played out.”

  I flipped her off and Ella rolled her eyes. “Now get over here, bitch, I need you.”

  Bennett looked down at his tools, his neck splotching red. “You can pull up a chair, Avery.”

  Ella practically wrenched my arm from its socket as Bennett raised the tattoo gun. “One word of

  caution. If you need a break or feel light-headed, give me a warning so I can remove the needle before

  you bolt out of your chair.”

  The look on Ella’s face was now one of sheer terror.

  “Oh, Ella. It’ll feel like teeny prick marks, and then you’ll get used to it,” I said. “Squeeze my hand

  if you need to.”

  As Bennett positioned the needle, Ella grabbed onto my hand like she was having fucking

  contractions or something.

  “There we go. It’ll be over before you know it.” Bennett spoke to her in a soothing voice. I bit

  down on my tongue because my hand was being clutched so tightly my knuckles were turning white.

  Ella squirmed initially but held it together after that. She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head upward just waiting for all of it to be over.

  I enjoyed watching Bennett work—he licked his lips and slanted his head in deep concentration.

  His hands were accurate yet tender. He also hummed a tune so low that I couldn’t decipher if it was a

  made-up song or not. The low vibration from his voice mixing with his soft breaths created a path of

  goose bumps down the center of my body and a soft tickle between my legs.

  “You okay?” Bennett rubbed excess ink from a section of Ella’s skin with a wet paper towel.

  “Hanging in there,” she squeaked out. “It feels less painful then it did at the beginning.”

  “Good. I finished the outline, so now you can take a breather while I change needles to do the

  shading. This time will feel different—a little better.”

  Ella puffed out a breath and opened her eyes. She let go of my hand and I shook it out. “Shit, you

  dickhead. Remind me not to be in the room if you ever go into labor.”

  Bennett’s back was turned, and I heard him chuckle while he prepped his next set of tools.

  When he twisted back around, his gaze bonded to mine like it was the glue holding me together.

  “So, have you decided what you’re going to let me ink on you next?”

  “Haven’t given it much thought,” I said, trying to tear my eyes away from his hold.

  “No? Hmmm, I’ve got some ideas.”

  “Listen, you two can grope each other after I’m done,” Ella said. “But right now I need you to

  finish my tattoo.”

  “Knock it off, asshat.” I gave her knee a firm shake.

  “There will be no groping,” Bennett said, and came toward her with the needle again.

  I watched him work again but tried to tone my breathing down. Our attraction was becoming way

  too obvious.

  “All finished,” he announced several minutes later. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  Ella’s eyes glowed with admiration. “It was worth the pain. I love it so much.”

  “It looks great, Ella.” I mouthed a thank-you to Bennett, and he winked. “Let me give you our aftercare instruction sheet. Don’t take the directions lightly,” he said, placing

  ointment and a Band-Aid over the tattoo. “Follow them to the letter. You don’t want to mess around with

  getting an infection.”

  Ella stood on shaky legs, and I helped her get her footing.

  I slipped into the hall behind Bennett, but had stopped to admire a framed tattoo when I felt a pair

  of arms slide around my hips.

  Then Oliver’s low voice. “Hey there, sexy girl—are you back for more?”

  I cringed. Bennett whipped around, shock registering over his features.

  I pushed Oliver’s hands
from my waist. “Hey, Oliver. Just here for moral support. My friend got a

  tattoo from Bennett.”

  “Yeah?” Oliver looked at Ella as she stood before Holly at the front desk. “She hot, too?”

  “She’s got a boyfriend,” I said and took a step away. Bennett’s jaw was set so tightly I found it hard

  to look anywhere but the floor.

  Normally, I gave it back good to grabby guys and could tell them where to shove it, but something

  about Bennett hearing this private conversation made my ears blaze and my stomach ball into a hard fist.

  “I know for a fact that you don’t do boyfriends, sexy girl,” Oliver drawled in my ear. “So we can go

  at it again tonight, if you’re free.”

  “Stop, Oliver.” Now smoke was pouring out of my ears. “I’m just here for my friend. Nothing

  else.”

  “Hey, O, you don’t give all our female clients this hard of a time, do you?” Bennett had a tight

  smile on his face. I could tell he was trying to joke with his boss, but there was a serious underlying tone

  to his question.

  “Of course not, Ben,” Oliver said, straightening up and taking a step back.

  “C’mon, Avery,” Bennett said through gritted teeth. “Let’s get your friend checked out.”

  Bennett avoided eye contact with me after that. Like he was disappointed by the very idea of me having had a one-night stand with his boss.

  Or maybe even disgusted.

  And I was ticked. Fuck him. He didn’t have the right to make me feel that way.

  When Ella waved as she went out the door and Bennett turned back toward the hallway, I had the feeling this might be our final good-bye.

  Chapter Fourteen

  My phone rang early Saturday morning. Too early. When I saw it was my brother, I immediately went

  into panic mode. The kid always slept late. “Adam, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s Mom.” He sounded breathless. “She didn’t come home last night, which didn’t surprise me—

  you know, her usual Friday night at the bar. I just figured she went to someone’s place and got laid.”

  Hearing my brother talk like that about my mother was normal, but it still bothered the shit out of

  me. Did other kids have these kinds of fucked-up conversations about their own parents?

  “And?” It had to be something serious for Adam to call me this early.