The Spencer Cohen Series, Book Three(2)

By: N.R. Walker

“You’re still going to get it tattooed, though?” Andrew asked.

“Well yeah, but it’s tiny, and it will blend into the sleeve as a whole. Just something quick and small.”

He shook his head as he tried to think of something. “Um…”

Then Emilio said, “When you think of Spencer, what is the first thing that comes into your mind?”

Andrew looked at me for a long second, then he smiled. Putting pen to paper, it took him half a second to draw. Only it wasn’t really drawn, it was written. He turned it around to show me. I stared at it, and he quickly explained, “It’s a treble clef and 6/8 time.”

I looked up at him then. I knew exactly what it meant.

“It’s for the song ‘Hallelujah’,” he went on to explain to the others who were watching us. “The sheet music starts with that.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I didn’t know what to say. It was so perfect, and he looked at me and smiled. “You like it?” he asked.

I shook my head, no. “I love it. It’s um…”

Emilio, oblivious to the moment Andrew and I were having, took the piece of paper. “Cool.” He tapped my leg. “Come on, I’ll do it now.”

Still not taking my eyes off Andrew, I stood up and went to follow Emilio. Except I only got a few steps and went back to where Andrew was still seated, lifted his face, and kissed him. “It’s perfect.”

I left him breathless and blushing and planted myself on Emilio’s chair. He had inked me many times so it was a familiar, almost cathartic experience. While Emilio got his gear ready, I sat back and got comfy. Andrew walked over cautiously. “Can I watch?”

“Of course,” I said, holding out my free hand.

He quickly took it. “I can’t believe you’re just going to get something I drew tattooed on your skin.”

“I love it.”

“But it’s really permanent.”

I laughed. “Yes, tattoos are. That’s quite correct.”

“Shut up. You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“What if you change your mind?”

“I will never not love that song,” I told him. “And the fact you knew to draw it for me, that makes it more special.”

“Girls?” Emilio called out. “Want to come watch?”

Shell and Wendy came over and Emilio explained the equipment and the process. He positioned my arm accordingly, and in the small space of uninked skin, he tattooed the music notation.

Andrew squinted at me, as though he could feel the pain. “Does it hurt?”

I shook my head. “Nah.” He didn’t look convinced, so I held up the arm that was joined to the hand he was still holding. “If it hurt that much, would I be covered in them?”

He shrugged, not looking at all convinced, but he leaned over me to take a closer look. I didn’t mind because he could lean over me any time he liked. He was warm and smelled so damn good, but then he let go of my hand and walked around to Emilio’s side to get a better view. He was studying his handiwork. “Great lines.”

“Thanks, man,” Emilio said, not breaking concentration. It literally took him all of two minutes. He sat back to inspect his work and wiped the area one last time. “Done.”

I jumped up and walked over to the mirror, inspecting my new addition at different angles. “Looks good.”

When I turned back, Andrew was biting his bottom lip, all kinds of nervous. “You like it?”

I walked over to him, and putting my hand on his waist, I kissed his cheek. “Love it.” I sat down again, and Emilio showed and told Shell and Wendy about aftercare and how best to look after any tattoo they might get. I let him wrap the small area, and when he was finishing up, I asked them, “So? Ready to book your first appointment?”

They both nodded excitedly. “Yeah, for sure,” Shell said.

“Right, then,” I said, leaving Emilio to clean up his station. I led the two ladies over to the reception counter. “What day?”

They decided on the next Saturday. I booked them both in and took copies of their artwork for Emilio to keep safe. They were buzzing with excitement and decided to spend the afternoon at Venice Beach. “Andrew? Wanna come with us?”

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