Page 80 of Dare You to Run

Hendrix opens one eye and looks over at me. “No. I think he has quite a bit more to go.”

“Oh. Okay, well I can just wait over there.”

“Do you want to take a look?” He asks.

“Can I? I mean, I don’t want to be in the way.”

The artist who was originally going to tattoo me looks over and says, “Come take a peek.”

He stops the tattoo gun and I walk over cautiously, like what’s been inked will somehow come to life and attack me. Hendrix outstretches his arm and smooths his hand up the back of my leg, pulling me closer.

When I look down I’m speechless at what I see. It’s mesmerizing and I itch to run my fingers over the lines.

In the empty spot on Hendrix’s chest are the outlines of what looks like his skin being torn back. Underneath is a heart –anatomical heart– sprouting flowers. While his existing tattoos are all colorless, this one is a mix of black and white lines and vibrant flowers. The colors are still being filled, but the pinks and blues and purples are clearly visible.

“Wow. That’s beautiful,” I tell him, letting my eyes trace every detail.

“It’s my Dagen tattoo,” he rasps.

“What?”

With a cocky smirk he explains, “Dagen means to be cut open in Hebrew. And that is what you have done to me, Dagen McCallan. Cut me open and helped my black heart beat again. My world was black and white and now with you in it, there’s a world of color I didn’t know existed.”

I swallow a hard lump but it does nothing to keep the tears at bay. This grumpy man, hardened and jaded by life, just poured his heart out and revealed a side of himself that most have not seen.

“Honey if you don’t marry that man, mind if I take a shot?” I look over my shoulder with big puddles in my eyes and see Mollie standing there with a smile.

She reaches out and squeezes my hand before turning and walking to her station to clean up.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.

Hendrix takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, softly kissing the back of it. “Don’t say anything. Just know it’s true.”

I nod then run my fingers through his golden strands, and place a kiss on his forehead. “Back at ya, Mr. Wolf.”

“I can’t believe we each got a tattoo for the other without knowing it.” It’s Sunday morning and as much as I wish it didn’t have to be over, I know Hendrix needs to get back home.

It’s a long drive from my house in Waco to his, and I worry about him driving so late.

“Great minds,” he tells me with a wink.

Our fingers are laced together and sit on the center console of his car.

After tattoos and lunch, we spent the rest of Saturday wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the feel of warm skin and tender kisses. And equally, we basked in gluttonous pleasure with moans and lascivious touches. I prayed for it never to end, but reality sat knocking on our door.

Three weeks of this man and I’m ready to sing that I’ve found the one. Maybe my age makes me naive, but a man doesn’t get a tattoo for a girl if she’s a flash in the pan.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” I ask.

“One hundred percent. But ask me if I fucking care. No one is going to get in the way when it comes to you and I. Promise.” We pull up to my house and he stops his car, then turns to look at me. “When someone shines a light on the darkness you’ve beenliving, it helps you see truths that you didn’t realize were waiting for you. Once you see them, it’s impossible to go back to living in a world of black.”

“I didn’t know you were such a sap, Hendrix Dare. I thought I got myself a tough biker when really, it seems I’ve been gifted with a tender poet.” I bite my lip and wait for his response.

It comes in the form of him ripping me from my seat and yanking me to straddle him in the driver's seat.

“You are such a brat, you know that.” His fingers dig into my sides and I screech as he tortures me with tickles.

“Oh my god. No. I’m sorry. You’re gonna make me pee my pants,” I laugh.