The Ending I Want(84)

“Ah, well, they’re your bodies, but I always say, choose wisely ’cause a tattoo is permanent—unless you want to go through the pain of having it removed.”

I really don’t have to worry about that, Den. But thanks for the concern.

“I’ve picked a good one for her. She’ll like it for sure.” Liam grins at me.

“I trust you,” I tell him.

His eyes meet mine. “I trust you, too.”

“Right. Well, where are we tattooing?” Den asks me.

“My ass,” I tell him.

“And do you have a picture of what she’s having done?” he asks Liam.

“Yeah.” Liam pulls his cell from his pocket and opens up something on the screen. Then, he hands the phone to Den.

Den stares at the screen and then at Liam.

“Trust me. She’ll love it.” Liam laughs softly, meeting my eyes.

Honestly, I’m not even worried about what he’s picked for me. I’m just happy that something he chose is going to be on my body.

“Right. Well, I’ll just go draw this up. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Den leaves the room.

I sit up on the tattooing bed.

“Are you nervous?” Liam asks, coming over to stand between my legs.

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

“You got any idea what you’re going to pick for me?”

“I do actually.” I smile.

I so have the best idea for what to have tattooed on Liam. I just hope he gets the sentiment.

“Am I going to like it?”

I just smile big at him, and worry flickers in his eyes.

“Don’t worry.” I pat his arm. “It’ll be awesome. I promise.”

A few minutes later, Den reappears with a drawing in his hand. I turn away, as I want it to be a surprise.

“Do you want to look at it before I do it?” Den asks me from behind.

“Nope. I want the surprise,” I say more to Liam than Den.

Liam smiles down at me.

“I’ll take a look,” Liam tells Den, leaving me and walking over to him.

They’re both quiet for a moment.

Then, Liam says, “It’s perfect.”

That has me smiling bigger.

“Okay. Well, Taylor, get yourself lying on your front on the bed for me, and lower your leggings. Then, we’ll get started,” Den tells me.

I do as he asked. Lying on my front, I shimmy my leggings down, exposing my ass. I had the foresight to wear leggings, as they’re stretchy and comfy for when I’ll have to pull them back up over the tattoo.

Liam pulls up a chair, sitting beside my head.

“Any preference on which side I do the tattoo?” Den asks.

“Left butt cheek.” I don’t know why I say left. Probably because I’m left-handed.

“I’ll go left then, too.” Liam grins down at me. “Might as well match.”

Den shaves the area on my left ass cheek. Then, I feel him rub something over the area. And the next thing I hear is the sound of the needle turning on.

Liam looks over at the needle and then back to me. “You ready?” he says softly.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

I feel the needle touch my skin, and—

Holy f*ck! That hurts!

I reach out and grab Liam’s arm, squeezing hard.

And the f*cker laughs.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing at,” I grumble at him through gritted teeth. “Because you’re next to have this bitch of a needle jabbing you in the ass.”





“I can’t even begin to tell you how hot it is, seeing my name tattooed on your arse.” Liam’s deep voice ripples through my body.

We’re back at his apartment, and I’m lying on my stomach on his bed. I’m wearing a T-shirt, and my lower half is bare while Liam is applying diaper cream to my tattoo—or nappy cream, as they call it here.

Den said it’s the best thing to use on a tattoo to stop the skin from drying out.

“I can’t believe you told him to tattoo your company logo on me,” I say into the pillow.

Yeah, that’s right. I have the Hunter Airways logo tattooed on my butt.

Liam said he could have gone for the Hunter Hotel or Hunter Finance logo, but he thought, as we’d met on the plane, it would be poetic.

I’ve been complaining, but secretly, I love that he chose this.

It’s like he’s left a part of himself on me—even though he’s already marked me in so many ways…my mind…my heart.

He barks out a laugh. “Says the woman who had a map of Boston—with the word Boston and a heart written inside the map—tattooed on my arse.”

I snort out a laugh and lift up onto my elbows as I smile back at him. “I thought it would be a nice way for you to remember me.”

“I don’t need a tattoo to remember you, babe.”

His words run through me like hot and cold water in my veins.

Then, he says, “But did you have to put the heart in though?” He’s shaking his head with dismay.

Well, the heart was my indirect way of telling him how I feel. That he has Boston’s heart…my heart.

But, now, I feel bad. I guess I didn’t think it through properly.