Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
I stopped and took a big breath. “Holy shit,” I said. “You can chug.”
“I rushed a frat in college,” Jonah admitted, wiping at his mouth with his forearm.
“That explains it. Did you like being in the fraternity?”
His lips tightened. “Eh, it wasn’t my favorite thing in the world. I was a junior in college and kind of lost. Didn’t feel like I had a solid group of friends and thought a fraternity would be a good way to find a group.” He shrugged. “It was fun, and the parties were crazy, but I didn’t really click with any of the guys. I never finished pledging.”
I nodded. “I could understand that. It’s tough trying to find your tribe, but I think I found a good one in the Stonewall family. Even harder, though, is trying to find your ‘one.’ I’m still working on that.”
“How has a guy not locked you down yet? You’re tall, dark, and sexy. You’ve got tattoos, you’ve got a great smile. You can make people laugh and feel comfortable and…” Jonah stopped himself, some kind of realization setting in on his face.
“Thank you for all that, you’re really kind. And also really full of shit.”
“No, no, I’m not.” He sounded sure of himself, even though his face looked like someone who spilled some kind of secret.
“Well, thank you… How did you know I have tattoos?” I cocked my head, eyes locked on his, my lips twitching up into a smile.
“I… well, you know… it was… through your shirt earlier. The bright colors pop.”
Something about the idea of him sneaking glances at my bare chest made my pulse quicken. “I’ve got a big chest tattoo that goes up over my shoulder and ends halfway around my bicep. You can’t see it unless my shirt’s off, that’s why I was surprised.”
“I’ve got good eye,” Jonah quipped, smirking.
“That’s why I hired you as a Stonewall detective.”
“That’s the only reason?”
I cocked my head and licked my lips. “The only one.”
He laughed, his eyes dropping to my chest. “Can I see them? I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but I’ve always been kinda nervous about putting something so permanent on my body.”
I stood up and worked my shirt up over my head. Jonah looked up, his jaw dropping, eyes going wide.
“Jesus, Fox. That’s beautiful!” He followed me up onto his feet and moved closer to me, being careful not to mess up the cards on the floor.
“Thank you,” I said, my eyes dropping down. On my chest was a blast of bright color that slowly transformed into a black-and-white piece as the tattoo went onto my arm. The colored part going to just below my nipple was a scene of bright pink and blue flowers with a couple of green-and-red hummingbirds placed strategically throughout. The watercolor effect gave the piece a surreal quality, made stronger by the transition into black and white on my arm, which was tattooed with the dark outline of a strong fortress, wrapping around my arm, stopping above my elbow. There was a dragon roaring from one of the top spires on the castle, a bright red burst of flame the only piece of color on that arm.
“Wow,” Jonah said, a little quieter as he admired the tattoo. “Does it mean anything?”
“It does,” I replied, already feeling my chest tighten. “I started it on the second anniversary of my mom’s passing. These flowers, lilies and roses, were my mom’s favorite flowers. I remember growing up and the house smelling like a fresh-cut garden every single day. The scent filled the air, and I loved it. I loved seeing the overflowing vases she would always keep around the house. And the ones outside would always attract hummingbirds.”
Jonah’s eyes drifted up from my tattoo to my eyes. “They’re beautiful…” he said, a touch of sadness in those blue eyes. “When did she pass?”
“It’s been five years now.” And the pain was still as raw as if it happened yesterday.
Some silence followed as Jonah continued to examine my tattoo, as if he wanted to memorize every little detail about them.
“And what’s this part of the tattoo mean?”
His fingers came up to lightly brush over my bicep, over the dark symmetrical lines of the castle walls. It was a flash of a touch, and it still hit me like a bolt of lightning.
“The castle and dragon represent the stories she’d always read to me as a kid. They were books I still sometimes read to this day.” It also came to represent my closed-off self, something I felt had grown worse over the years.
I didn’t have to tell Jonah all that, though.
“I love it.” Jonah still had that awe-filled look in his eyes as he went back to his spot on the floor.
“Thanks,” I said and went to put the shirt back on.
“You can leave it off, you know, in case… I don’t know… you’re too hot or something.” Jonah wasn’t looking at me, but I suspected me leaving my shirt off had nothing to do with temperature.