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“Oh, he knows,” Hayden added. “I have three shithead kids to prove it.”
“Only one is a shithead,” Casten added, scrolling through his phone. “Oh, look, there’s a bar with a tattoo parlor in it.” He held up his phone. “Let’s go there.”
“We should get tattoos,” someone said, and so it was decided. We ended up at a bar with a tattoo parlor. Worst idea ever.
It started with Rager wanting me to tattooThe Sweet Spoton my pussy. I declined the pussy idea and so did he when he realized the guy tattooing us had to check out my track layout to do that. I settled onThe Sweet Spoton my hipbone, low enough I could still cover it up with my bikini if needed.
“I’m gonna get ‘handle with care’ right above my junk,” Caden told everyone within earshot. He’d had about ten tequila shots and volume control wasn’t his specialty.
“No, don’t.” Kinsley tried to reason with him. “And do you think getting a tattoo while drunk is a good idea?”
“No. It’s a horrible idea. But I’m gonna do it!” he yelled, wheeling himself over to the table and next to the guy with the tattoo gun in hand.
“Fuck,” she sighed, standing next to me. “This is a bad idea.”
“No, it’s a great idea.” Drunk me clearly underestimated what a good idea meant.
“MOMMY? WAKE UP!” And that followed with a smack right to my face and a blinding headache. Or maybe I had one to begin with. Probably the latter.
I peered one eye open to find Pace sitting on my stomach. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Cool,” I mumbled, trying to pry him off me.
He refused to move. “You make waffles on Christmas Eve, remember?”
“Right now?” I groaned, regretting all that tequila from last night. “It’s too early for that.”
Rager stirred beside me and pressed his lips to my shoulder. “It’s noon, babe.”
Shit.
Half asleep, Rager and I made our way downstairs to make waffles with the kids. Everyone was up aside from Casten, who had passed out in the van last night and no one moved him.
“Do you think it’s too cold out there for him?” Hayden asked, sipping on what I could only imagine was very strong coffee.
“I hope he freezes his balls off,” Kinsley added, staring at her wrist.
I stared at her. “What’s wrong?”
“This is what’s wrong.” She pushed up the sleeve of her shirt. “I specifically said no tattoos for me, andCastengave me a Jäger shot and I did this!”
On Kinsley’s wrist were the wordsPressure relief valve.
“What does that even mean?” I looked at her, and then Rager, who’s shoulders were shaking as laughter rolled through him. “What? Why are you laughing?”
He waited until Pace was out of the room and made a jerking off motion.
Kinsley dropped her hand and rolled down the sleeve on her hoodie. “Like I said, I hope he freezes to death.”
Aunt Emma wrapped her arm around Kinsley’s shoulder. “Me and you are going to be good friends.”
Dad and Mom, who’d been watching our interaction, smiled. “I feel like life has officially come full circle for us,” Mom said, leaning into Dad.
He pressed his lips to her forehead, smiling. “That it has, honey.”
THE FUCKING END