“Not…not as yet,” Sam choked out. She turned back to Nicole and Noah. “Okay, who do we know who wants to be tattooed by me, on camera in the next fifteen seconds?”
“What about Tabby?” Nicole hissed. “She’s on her way and she likes your work.”
“She doesn’t have the space,” Sam reminded her. “The regulations say the tattoo has to be at least thirty centimeters in height and width and she just got that huge fuck-off peacock on her back.”
Nicole blanched. “Oh god, I forgot about the peacock! This is a disaster.”
“Who’s Tabby?” Edith interrupted.
“Our baby sister,” Sam said. She tried to think of who else was available but her heart was racing and she still felt on the verge of collapse. All she could think was that if her dad was there, he would help her, but that wasn’t in the least bit possible.
“What about you?” Nicole demanded of Noah. “You get the tattoo.”
“No space.”
“But you’re huge! You’ve got to have some space on you!”
Noah’s mouth quirked up. “Want to check?”
Nicole turned a violent shade of red. “Fine, be rude. Let Sam’s career go down like the titanic. See if I care.”
“Nix, he doesn’t have the space. I know he doesn’t. Instead of grilling Noah, why don’t you help me think of someone who could help?”
“Sorry,” Nicole said, and she pressed her fingertips into her temples and closed her eyes, as though trying to draw a fresh model to them by telepathy.
“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, ladies,” Edith trilled. “But if you don’t get someone in the next half-hour, I’m almost certain you’ll have to forfeit your slot.”
“Shit!” Nicole said. “Shit! Shit!”
Sam knew Edith was only saying this to pump up the drama for the cameras, but she couldn’t be lying. There were consent forms to fill in and a limited amount of sketch time. She could plan the best tattoo in the world but if she didn’t have a body to tattoo on, it wouldn’t count for squat. She stared down at her watch, helplessness welling up inside her like a tide.
“I’m going to have to bail,” she told Nicole. “There’s just not enough time.”
Her twin stamped her foot on the floor. “No! You’ve worked so hard and you’ve come so far. I’ll get the tattoo.”
Sam stared at her, a golf ball rising in her throat. “You’d do that for me?”
“Yes,” Nicole said, indignantly. “Just give me one on the back. Something feminine and not too big.”
For a crazy moment, Sam entertained the idea. She pictured winning with a gorgeous tattoo adorned on her gorgeous twin, as unique a selling point as a person could get. Then, once again, reality set in. Nicole only had one tattoo—the one their dad had given them when they were eighteen. She didn’t want any more ink and it would be deeply uncool of her to take advantage of her twin’s offer and give her a tattoo she didn’t want. Sam hugged her sister tight then let go. “I appreciate the offer, but you can’t.”
“Yes, I can!”
“No. I love you, but no. It would go against my personal policy, anyway. I’m not having my work lasered off.”
“I wouldn’t laser it!”
“No, but you’d want to, which is just as bad.” Sam smiled, feeling an odd serenity in her acceptance. “You know what dad would say right now? That it’s just not the right time. We can ask around, see if anyone’s willing to volunteer, but if we don’t have anyone by the time the themes are announced, I’ll just forfeit my spot.”
Nicole’s lower lip popped out. “But what about the prize money and the title and saving the business?”
“We will save the business,” Sam said. “I’ll make back the money to rebuild the shed and I’ll take over the social media stuff from Tabby. I won’t stop until Silver Daughters is the biggest, best tattoo studio in Victoria, but today’s so clearly not my day. I’ll just step down and life will go on.”
“Life will go on?” Nicole tugged at the ends of her hair, her face the picture of anguish. “You sound like Tabby. We don’t need another Tabby.”
Sam laughed, amazed by how calm she felt. “Maybe we do. She’s got a point, why do we have to fight so hard to make things work all the time? Maybe we can just let go and see what happens? Even if we fail, we’ll still be okay.”
“You’re not gonna fail,” Noah said suddenly.
Everyone turned to look at him and Edith gestured to the cameramen to bring Noah into the shot.
“What do you mean ‘you’re not gonna fail?’” Nicole demanded. “Have you found a place for Sam to tattoo?”
Sam nudged her twin. “Stop being mean. Noah, what are you talking about?”
Noah glowered into the camera before looking at her. “I’ve found someone who wants to be tattooed. He’s already here and he’s headed over to the table right now.”
Sam’s mouth fell open. “Are you fucking serious? Who is he? Is he your mate?”
“Nah, but he seems like a decent guy and he wants to help out.”
“Where did you find him?”
“I just texted him, it’s all good. He should be here soon.” Noah scanned the crowd and Sam did the same, forgetting that she didn’t know who she was looking for. “Does this guy have any tats? Any idea of what he wants?”
“No idea. Why don’t you ask him?” Noah pointed to a tall man heading toward them. “There he is.”
Sam spotted the tall, sandy-haired stranger and saw that it wasn’t a stranger at all.
“No,” she said, and she dropped her ass into her chair because her knees were threatening to give way.
“Oh my god, it’s Scott!”
Half of Nicole’s fingers were crammed into her mouth, but Edith heard her anyway. “Who’s Scott?”
“Our old neighbor, Scott Sanderson. He’s Sam’s…Noah, what did you do?”
Noah shrugged. “What I had to do. He was already here, anyway. Now he knows the score.”
“But that’s…”
Sam didn’t hear what Nicole said in response. Scott’s bright black eyes had found hers and the way he smiled made her want to sing and puke.
“No,” she whispered. “You can’t.”
She knew he understood, but his smile just got wider. He continued making his way toward her table, Toby at his heels. Scott was dressed completely inappropriately for the event; his navy suit and white shirt making him look like someone’s unrealistically sexy movie boss. Sam’s chest tightened and her heart pounded against her ribs. Adrenaline was flooding her system at a near suicidal rate and yet she was so, so happy to see him.
I’m in love. I’m in love with Scott.
Dazed, she watched him come closer, surprised by how unsurprising the realisation was and how she felt both calm and disturbed. She wondered what her dad would say if he was here, and then she saw it—her next tattoo. It would sit on the inside of her shoulder, in the patch she’d been saving for years and years. It would be plain—just three lines written in her own handwriting;
It was wonderful.
And painful.
It was like life.
Scott approached the table, Toby at his heels, and beamed around at everyone. “Hello all, I’m here to get a tattoo. Are there any forms I need to sign?”
Edith gave a squeak of excitement but before she could extend her microphone toward him, Sam stood. “I’m not tattooing you.”
Scott beamed at her, the skin around his dark eyes crinkling. “Hello, Samantha. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, but I’m not tattooing you for Fadeout.”
“For Fadeout? Or ever?”
Sam knew he meant her pact to never tattoo anyone she was romantically involved with. She smiled, because he was such a shitlord. Because he already knew he was the exception. “For Fadeout. I’m not letting you make a spectacle of yourself in front of everyone for me.”
“Bollocks.” Scott unbuttoned his jacket and pulled it off. “Where can
I put this? And are the consent forms about? Noah said something about consent forms.”
“Ooh, they’re here.” Nicole pulled a stack of papers out of nowhere and held them up to Scott’s face. “Want my pen?”
“Yes, please.” Scott unbuttoned his shirt collar. “Samantha, I’d like my tattoo on my chest, please. I’ve no opinions about the design. Whatever you think will look good is fine.”
Sam snatched the papers out of Nicole’s hand. “No. We’re not doing this.”
“I think we are,” Scott said cheerfully, undoing another button. “Besides, it’s no big deal, everyone has tattoos these days.”
He winked at her, though Sam refused to smile. “Galahad, I’m fucking serious. We need to talk, we need to sort things out and we cannot resolve our situation by giving you a big fuck-off tattoo at the eleventh hour.”
“Why not?” he said, peeling off his shirt and handing it to Toby along with his jacket. Sam hated herself for noticing how good he looked. Almost as much as she hated all the eyes that had just been drawn toward them. The last thing this situation needed was more witnesses.
Edith shoved the microphone under Scott’s nose. “How do you know Samantha?”
“I’ve been in love with her since I was eight.”
The crowd around them ‘ooohed’ and Edith looked like all her telecasting dreams had just come true at once. “Are you guys together?”
Scott’s gaze locked on hers. “Not officially, but we’re going to be.”
The crowed ‘ooohed’ some more and Sam felt her face and neck go hot.
“Well everyone loves a big romantic gesture,” Edith said. “And there’s not much bigger than getting a tattoo to help Samantha try to win the competition. Is this going to be your first tattoo?”
“It is. I’m glad about that. I always wanted Samantha to be my first.”
The people around then laughed, Edith and Nicole giggled and even Noah smiled, but Sam just stood there thinking about love and how it was wonderful and painful, just like life.
“Samantha,” Edith said suddenly, thrusting the microphone toward her. “What do you think about all this?”
“I…” Sam stared blankly into the cameras tilted toward her. How could she say what she was feeling out loud when she barely knew what was going on?
Scott’s smile faded. He put a hand on Edith’s arm. “I know this is a media event, but might you give us a moment to ourselves, please?”
Edith looked like she wanted to protest, but then she saw Scott’s face and conceded they could have a few minutes alone. She strode away with her cameramen and the crowd pared back with her, wandering away to other artists and snack tables. Noah, Nicole and Toby similarly melted away. Sam walked toward her shirtless ex-neighbor and took his cold hands in hers. “Galahad,” she said, refusing to look him in the eyes.
Scott pulled their joined fists to his chest and waited until she met his gaze. The instant she did, he smiled. “Samantha, I love you.”
She felt another dizzying rush, like someone had opened a window in her chest and a spring breeze was whirling through it, bringing new life. “I love you, too.”
Scott’s forehead found hers, pressing their faces together, creating a shelter from the outside world.
“You’re the one,” he whispered. “You’re the only one for me.”
“I think I’m the same,” Sam whispered. “I’ve never been in love with anyone but you.”
“I’m sorry for yesterday.”
“That wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry for buyscottsandersonaroot.com.”
Scott’s mouth curled up at the corner. “That was your fault, but I don’t care, I don’t care about anything except you. I thought about what to say the whole way over here and it’s this—I want to promise you something.”
“Okay.”
“I promise I will not put you on a pedestal. I promise I will not talk down to you. I promise I will do everything in my power to make you happy and I promise I will do everything I can to remain worthy of your love. I will not ignore our class differences, or our history but I refuse to let either of them ruin what we feel for one another.”
Sam smiled, her eyes prickling with excess emotion. “Okay, Galahad. I accept your promises.”
Scott’s fingers tightened on hers. “Excellent. Now, in return I would like two things—for you to admit you love me and for you to win this competition by giving me the best tattoo you’ve ever given anyone, right here and right now.”
Sam shook her head and felt a tear splash down her left cheek. “It’s too soon, it’s too weird…”
“It isn’t.” Scott wiped the tear away. “Ten years ago, your father told me to find something to run toward, not from. I didn’t understand what he meant then, but now I do. I don’t want to live in fear, I want to live in love. I want to run towards you.”
Another tear fell onto Sam’s cheek. “I want to run towards you, too.”
“So why hesitate?” Scott whispered. “What’s a tattoo compared to us finally figuring this thing out?”
He had a point, but that wasn’t what made Sam agree. It was the feeling in her gut that said everything was going to be okay and she could do whatever she liked. As soon as she felt that, she knew she’d wanted to give Scott his first tattoo and that if it was for a competition in front of a crowd, then that would make a hell of a story.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll tattoo you. But the rest of this love conversation will have to wait for a more appropriate time.”
“I can live with that, but there will be a tax.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Kiss me?”
Sam pretended to consider the idea before pressing her mouth to his. In that moment, everything extraneous vanished. There was no Fadeout, no Silver Daughters, no worries or plans for the future. She was rooted in the present, within herself and him. She loved Scott. She’d loved him from the moment she saw he’d climbed the tree outside her window in his little shirt and tie. She loved his gentleness and his wit, she loved his smile and posh voice. She wanted to run toward him.
Somewhere nearby a speaker crackled to life, announcing the theme of heaven and hell and the start of the thirty minute sketch period.
Scott pulled away from her, beaming. “Are you ready to win?”
“Yes,” Sam said, but the truth was she’d stopped caring about winning Fadeout Festival the moment she saw him.
“Glad to hear it.” He released her hands. “We don’t have to keep the love conversation going but I want you to know one more thing—yesterday was the last time I don’t return your calls. From now on, I’m in your corner. I have no intention of letting you go. I’m going to be—”
“Faithful,” Sam interrupted. Her head was suddenly full of the most wonderful, the most perfect image. “Sorry, Scott. That’s super nice and I get the gist, but I need a pen…”
And because he was a wonderful human being, Scott found one and a notepad and let her sit down without another word.
Time vanished as Sam drew. She drew a shining steel helmet on a field of cracked black earth, beside it were several long white feathers, dripping red at the tips. In the middle distance stood a man with bleeding wings. In one hand he carried a sword, in the other, the dripping head of a demon. Sam was so absorbed in her work that once she was done she looked up to see not only Scott and Nicole, but Tabby, Noah and Toby watching her.
“Uh, hey everyone,” she said. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough. Greetings, by the way. Tat looks sweet.” Tabby was holding one of the puppies and when Sam looked down, she saw the other five and their mother milling about her feet, drawing adoring gazes from passersby.
“I can’t believe you brought the puppies.”
“I can’t believe you can’t believe I would do that.” Tabby hoisted the puppy higher onto her chest. “They’re great promotional tools. Everyone loves puppies.”
Sam opened her mouth to tell her she wa
s a psychopath, but Scott placed a hand on her arm. “Can I see what you’ve done?”
“Oh, of course.” She held up her pad so everyone could take a look.
“Nice,” Noah grunted. “Solid negative space.”
“It’s amazing,” Nicole agreed. “Do you think you’ll be able to do it in three hours?”
“Yeah, it’s not too different from things I’ve done before.” Sam looked to Scott for the only opinion that mattered. The look of wonder on his face made her heart feel tight as a drum skin. “Do you like it?”
Scott smiled softly. “The angel won the battle?”
“Yes, but there was a price.”
“There always is.”
Sam gestured him closer. “Look what’s written on the visor.”
Scott bent over to study the minute writing. “‘My strength is as the strength of ten men, because my heart is pure.’” He looked at her. “Galahad wasn’t an angel.”
“He wasn’t a virgin, either. He was a gentleman, like you.”
Scott ducked his head. “Samantha, a true gentleman is someone who never refers to himself as such. Especially in permanent marker on his body.”
“But you won’t be referring to yourself as a gentleman, I will. And the writing will be as small as I can make it. I promise only we’ll know it’s there.”
Scott still didn’t look convinced and Sam decided she was going for the low blow. “If I’m going to tattoo you, it’s going to be this, Galahad, and I’ll be breaking a personal pact to do it, so meet me halfway, yeah?”
Scott frowned, then his handsome face relaxed. “Okay. Will it fit on my chest?”
Sam took a step back, studying his gorgeous body. “It’s doable, but it’ll hurt like hell over the ribs and collarbones.”
Scott stepped forward and kissed her hard and deep. “Whatever you need to do, do it. I don’t care how much it hurts, I just want your tattoo on my heart.”
With that, Sam had to stop talking. She knew if she did, she would cry and if she cried, she would never, ever stop.
Chapter 23
At one in the morning, Sam decided to go look for Scott. She found him in her bedroom with his shirt off, examining his new tattoo in her mirror. The quirky eye-browed puppy was at his feet, chewing happily on his shoelaces. Sam leaned against the doorframe, watching them and wondering if life had ever felt so sweet. Looking at them made her chest so tight, she couldn’t breathe.
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