Five

A tattoo Lille got but Jack did not

“What the hell….” said Lola in confusion. I took this to mean that Jack wasn’t normally the kind of man who chased after people. It was more likely that they chased after him…or ran away from him in fear, my brain provided.

“I think he wants to come with us,” I replied in puzzlement, perhaps even more confused than Lola.

When Jack finally reached us, he bent over for a second to catch his breath before drawing himself upright. “You left without me.” Oh, wow, the way he was looking at me hit me right in the chest, like thump. He was just so striking physically that any extremes of emotion in him were quite…arresting.

“I thought you made it clear you didn’t want to come.”

One eyebrow went up as he shook his head. “I never said that.”

We stared at each other for several seconds, almost in challenge, before Lola interrupted with a laugh that seemed to hold secret knowledge. “Okay, you two. Let’s start walking, or you’ll be having that staring contest all day.”

Jack was still looking at me when I fumblingly turned on my heel and followed Lola. Strangely, all the way into town he walked behind us rather than beside us. Lola and I chatted away, and the only sign of participation from Jack was the odd grunt or low chuckle. I really didn’t understand why he was insisting on coming with us, because he’d seemed so sardonic about the whole idea earlier.

As we searched for a tattoo parlour, we came by a little curiosity shop selling all kinds of pretty ornaments and trinkets. Lola and I stood by the window, admiring the display. Just behind a big purple vase I spotted a small object and gasped, taking it as a sign. It was a little hot air balloon forged in copper. I pulled out my drawing and unfolded the paper.

“It looks just like my tattoo design. See?” I said, holding the picture out for Lola, aware of Jack looking just over my shoulder.

“Okay, that’s spooky. I officially have goose bumps. Go ahead, feel my skin,” Lola declared, and held her arm out to me. I obliged her by running my hand over it, and it was true, she did have them. I craned my neck to try to make out the price tag on the ornament. There on the little old-fashioned handwritten price tag it read seventy euros, which was way too pricey, considering I currently had less than four hundred to my name, and I was responsible for supporting myself for the entire summer. It must have been an antique.

“Yeah. I’d buy it, only it’s way too expensive. Maybe if I make enough money before the week is through I’ll come back for it.” I sighed wistfully.

“Sounds like a plan,” said Lola before linking her arm through mine and leading me away from the shop window. I turned a little to see Jack still standing there, staring at the ornament. Or maybe there was something else in the display that had caught his eye. A moment later he began following us again.

It took another twenty minutes to find a tattoo parlour, where a French girl with a septum piercing and an undercut told me in broken English that she could do the tattoo, but I needed to have something to eat first. We left her to practice sketching my hot air balloon and went in search of food.

I was delighted when we came across a crepe stand that also sold waffles covered in chocolate syrup – so obviously I went for the waffles. It also surprised me when Jack ate with us, because it felt like he was there to perform some sort of strange guard duties rather than to actually spend time with us. I think his silence put Lola on edge a bit, because at one point she leaned close to me and whispered, “This is…weird.”

I only nodded, not saying anything because I thought Jack had heard her, and in a strange way I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I made eye contact with him for a second, trying to convey that I really didn’t think it was weird. In fact, there was something both soothing and exciting about his presence. He possessed a stoic sort of strength I felt like I could somehow siphon off for myself. I definitely needed some of his bravery if I was going to go through with the tattoo.

I was happily full of waffles and chocolate syrup by the time we arrived back at the parlour. When we reached the door, Lola went in ahead of me, but Jack cut me off when he put an arm out to stop me.

I turned to see what he wanted and gasped when he lifted his thumb up and dragged it over the corner of my mouth. His lips curved at the edges.

“You had some chocolate there,” he explained.

I arched a brow. “You could have just told me, and I’d have gotten it myself.” His touch had thrown me off kilter, and I think he knew the effect he had on me, which was why I was getting snippy. It was like he enjoyed the tease, knowing it was never going to lead anywhere. Kind of like the way a cat might toy with a mouse.

He had both hands braced on either side of the doorframe now, penning me in. Bravely, I made eye contact with him, holding my head high.

Out here in the bright light of day, his eyes looked the colour of whiskey. They weren’t really black at all. They softened, went all “bedroomy,” but you know, I didn’t think he realised just how bedroomy his eyes went at times. I think I might have even seen him giving Marina bedroom eyes the other day. So yeah, he definitely didn’t know. It must have been one of his default settings.

“And where’s the fun in that?” he asked, teasingly. Okay, maybe he did know about his bedroom eyes…which only made the Marina thing all the more unsettling. Did he use them on every woman?

“Are you playing with me?” I asked outright. I didn’t want to fall victim to the games of his strange and unexpected flirting. I wanted him to know I was onto him. Because, you know, I was such a cool and experienced woman, and I didn’t take any shit.

If only.

He feigned a small look of shock. “Me? Never?” His gaze trailed to my lips then, and I recognised a definite expression of interest.

“Stop it,” I said.

“Stop what?”

“Stop…what you’re doing,” I sputtered. “We don’t have time for this, and I – I have a tattoo to get.”

 “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked before placing a hand on my shoulder and running it down my arm. “Are you sure you want to mark this untouched skin?”

“It’s just skin,” I answered, shivering, and then winced, remembering his burn scars. Perhaps he couldn’t understand why someone would choose to mark themselves in this way. Ridiculously, I felt like apologising to him. It was actually surprising when I noted that he didn’t have any tattoos himself, because he looked like the kind of person who would have them.

“Skin is important, Lille. Some marks last forever. You have to decide if they’re worth it.”

My eyes flickered back and forth between his, somehow feeling like he wasn’t talking about tattoos anymore. I swallowed, mustering determination, and stepped backward, pushing the door open with my bottom and escaping his unnerving closeness.

“I believe this is worth it,” I said to him with conviction, then turned to greet the tattoo artist. The parlour had an open-plan layout, which meant you were sitting right there for all to see, rather than in a private room. I thought that maybe they only went to the back room to tattoo bottoms, or penises, or something. I didn’t even have a penis, and I still grimaced at the idea of having one inked.

Ouch.

Lola sat on a couch, casually flicking through folders of artwork, but Jack didn’t sit. Instead, he stood by the wall, folded his arms, and watched me. Great. Like this wasn’t going to be nerve-wracking enough already.

The tattooist, whose name was Jasmine, instructed me to lie down stomach first on a mechanical chair that she’d flattened out for me. I realised the error I’d made when choosing what to wear today, because the only way to expose my shoulder and back was to pull my T-shirt off halfway, holding the front to my chest. It was a good job I could turn my head to the side and face away from Jack to hide my blush.