Sutton

Two months later.

SNOW SWIRLS AROUND US AS WE STAND on the sidewalk outside of the tattoo shop, big, fat snowflakes landing on every available square inch. I laugh as I look up at my boyfriend and notice the entire collection on the top of his beloved baseball cap. The action causes me to lose my grip on the slippery surface, but Kelly's firm arm around my waist prevents me from falling.

"Careful, baby girl," his deep voice rumbles in my ear.

Glancing around, I watch the flurries dance in the warm light of the streetlamps, night creeping in early with the storm. "It's like a freaking snow globe," I say, my voice full of wonder. I've lived in Minnesota all my life; this isn't my first snowstorm, but it feels similar to how it felt as a child waiting for school to be cancelled. There's a buzzing energy in the air.

Storefronts are decorated for the holidays, and I have this urge to go peer in through the window displays like a child dreaming about what Santa will be bringing me next week. Christmas has always been my favorite holiday, but the snow makes it that much more special.

"I'm so glad it's going to be a white Christmas this year. I was worried for a bit. Remember last year how it was brown and soggy and gross..." I stop midsentence when I realize Kelly is looking at me with an odd expression on his face. "Uhhh...you ok?"

He pulls me in, our big, puffy jackets smooshing together between our bodies. "More than ok, baby girl." Then he kisses me; and I'm transported back to a few months ago when we stood on this exact spot outside of the tattoo parlor and we reveled in the freedom from kissing in public.

It still hits me sometimes. Even after these months of being together "out loud" as Kelly refers to it, I still fight the urge to pinch myself to make sure it's real.

Kelly kisses down my neck, his warm breath creating goosebumps on my cold skin. His eyes dart to mine, a slow smirk curving his lips. "It's real, baby girl. But I'm not going to pinch you. Again."

He somehow always knows what I'm thinking. I shove him away and I almost lose my footing again, the ground slick with the fresh powder of snow. Kelly catches me again, the smug smirk still firmly in place. "Should we go see about a tattoo before you break your neck? Or freeze to death."

He presses a soft kiss to my nose, which is undoubtedly pink from the cold temperature, and guides me the few steps to the door. The warmth of the building greets us, and I peer around at all the drawings on the wall, remembering how I didn't get a chance to study them the last time we were here.

Just then Sully walks in from the back, and he and Kelly do their customary bro hug handshake routine. All I get is a subtle head nod from my foster brother before he turns his attention back to my boyfriend.

"About fucking time we finish that tattoo," Sully says, shaking his head.

Kelly laughs as he removes his winter coat and rolls up his sleeve, revealing the series of dots on his inner wrist. "You have no appreciation for my game."

"Oh this was you having game?" Sully lifts a single eyebrow suspiciously.

"Fuck yeah. You just wait and see." Kelly's smug smirk makes another appearance.

I roll my eyes. "Let's just do the thing already, yeah? Maybe somebody will finally tell me what the stupid tattoo is about."

Both men ignore me as they make their way to Sully's private workstation. I pull off my bulky coat and scarf and throw them on an open chair in the corner, slowly turning as I take in the room and the art displayed on the walls. "You do these?" I ask Sully as I point to the framed drawings.

He barely glances at me from his bent position over the counter. His response is a grunt that I take to mean is confirmation. I study the intricate details of the artwork nearest me, impressed with my brother's talent. Just then a warm body presses into me from behind, arms wrapping around my waist.

"Baby girl," the whispered words brush against my ear. "I need you to do something for me."

Without further explanation, he sits me down in a chair and hands me a clipboard with a fresh piece of white paper clipped to it, a pencil looped through the clip opening. Kneeling before me, he runs his hands up and down my legs, the warmth of his hands seeping through my jeans.

"I need you to design something for right here." He pulls down the collar of his Henley to expose the portion of skin free of ink above his heart.

My mouth drops open, my eyes blinking rapidly. I try to shove the clipboard back into his hands. "Kelly, no." My voice is a whispered rasp.

He pushes the clipboard back into my hands. "Yes, baby girl."

I shake my head, but he stops the movements by cupping his big hands on my face. "Yes, baby girl," he says again, his voice deep and demanding. Bossy.

"It's reserved," I whisper.

"I know. For you." His thumbs caress my cheeks as I gawk at him, trying to wrap my head around what he's asking of me.

"What would I even design? It's permanent, Kelly. You could have given me more time. You can't just spring it on me like this. This is a lot of pressure. I'm really kind of mad at you right now. Can't I just think about it, Kelly? Give me some time? It's a big deal. A big fucking deal."

He places his mouth over mine for a gentle kiss, the gesture so sweet that tears tingle my eyes. "Get out of your head," he says, tapping a finger on my temple. "This is why I didn't give you time. You'd overthink it. Don't think too hard. Just feel. Whatever you come up with will be perfect, Sutton."

The gold flecks dance in his eyes as he directs that intense gaze at me. Then he kisses me again, briefly slipping his tongue into my mouth this time. "You have until Sully finishes this one, baby girl," he instructs as he gets to his feet and points to unfinished tattoo on his wrist.

I yell at his retreating back, "You suck, Kelly Ledger! I hope you hate what I come up with and you have to live with it for the rest of your life!"

He laughs without bothering to give me any further attention. I glare at the bright white of the blank piece of paper taunting me. I grip the pencil in my hand, tapping it against the wooden clipboard, the pressure of creating a permanent mark on my boyfriend's skin weighing heavily on me.

I glance up when I hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun, panic seizing me. But then I start doodling whatever pops into my head, running with the idea. I don't have time to question myself because the buzzing stops in a matter of minutes and both men turn to stare at me expectantly.

"Well, baby girl. What's it going to be?" Kelly asks as he removes his shirt. My eyes go immediately to the open spot on his chest, the spot he informed me months ago was reserved for the woman who stole his heart.

I gulp, hugging the clipboard to my chest to hide the drawing. "Ummm..."

Kelly crosses the room and takes the clipboard from me. The corner of his mouth lifts as he looks at the paper. His finger traces over my loopy script that starts with a small heart and curves into a lower-case cursive S. Finally, he meets my eyes, and I notice a shimmer in his, the hazel color saturated with the moisture.

He leans down to press his lips to mine, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away. "It's perfect, Sutton." Then he pulls the paper from the clipboard and hands it to Sully, who sets to work creating a stencil of my drawing.

I place a hand over my racing heart, willing it to slow down. Creating a tattoo for my boyfriend wasn't on my bingo card for the year, but I must admit I kind of love it.

By the time Sully finishes the tattoo, my heartbeat has returned to normal, and I'm armed with my own ammunition...in the form of a clipboard and a blank sheet of paper. I hand it to my boyfriend with a smirk. "You have five minutes to design one for me."

Kelly blinks once. Then twice. I've managed to stun him. "Shut the fuck up."

I grin at his reaction.

"You're joking, right?"

I shake my head.

"Sutton," he says in his bossy tone. "Don't fuck with me."

"I'm not, baby. But now you only have four minutes." I point at an imaginary watch on my wrist.

He crowds my space, his large form looming over me. "And where on your body is it going?" His eyes roam over every inch of me.

I shrug. "Your choice."

"Fuck, baby girl." He grips my hips firmly, tugging me into him and buries his face in my neck. "Tell me you're serious." His words are muffled, his hot breath heating my skin.

"I'm serious."

He kisses me with lots of tongue. Then I remind him, "You only has three minutes now."

"I only need one, baby girl. I know exactly what I want. And where."

I laugh. "Of course you do."

He kisses me hard and swift on the mouth before he scribbles on the paper with his back turned so I can't see, and then he holds it behind his back to hide it from me.

"Don't think that just because it only took me one minute that I didn't take it seriously," he says, his eyes zeroing in on me with so much intensity that I suck in a breath. "I took it very fucking seriously, baby girl. It's something I've thought a lot about if I'm being completely honest. I'm sure it's not surprising that I want to mark you. This is like dream come true in the making."

"Why haven't you ever said anything then?"

"I wanted it to be your idea," he explains. "That way there was never any doubt that I talked you into it in some way."

"But you were hoping?"

"Fuck yeah," he says with so much conviction it makes me laugh. "It would have been ok if you never wanted it, though, Sutton. I don't need it as proof of anything."

"Good. Because it's not meant as proof. It's supposed to be a symbol. Something that represents us. Celebrates it. Honors it. The only proving I plan on doing will happen through my daily actions."

We stare at each other for a few moments before I hold my hand out. "Can I see the drawing?"

"Do you trust me?" he asks, keeping the clipboard behind his back.

I nod, my stomach fluttering with excitement and nerves. "Can I at least know where?"

He dips his finger into the collar of my shirt and traces my clavicle. The movement makes me shudder and whisper, "Ok, I trust you."

Kelly gives the paper to Sully as they talk quietly to each other. Then Kelly guides me to the chair he was sitting in earlier for his tattoo. "You're wearing something under that sweater, right?"

I grin at him as I peel the sweater over my head, revealing the tight white tank top. "Jesus," he cusses and then turns a warning glare at my foster brother.

"Stop it, Kelly. Sully isn't about the incest."

"In case you forgot, he isn't actually your blood brother."

Sully looks at him over his shoulder from where he works at the counter. "Fucking chill, man. It isn't my tattoo I'm inking on her skin. Besides," he throws in as he returns to his task, "she isn't my type. Far too high maintenance."

"Hey!" I screech. "I take offense to that. Lots of offense. I'm hardly high maintenance."

"Sutton, what the fuck?" Kelly demands. "Do you want to be his type?"

"No. But still. And he isn't my type either. The whole emo thing is too much."

Sully eyes me over his shoulder but doesn't respond. He glances at Kelly before returning to the job of readying the stencil and ink.

A few minutes later, I'm gripping Kelly's hand, squeezing my eyes shut as tight as they'll go, holding my breath, gritting me teeth, clenching my butt cheeks together and singing the alphabet song over and over in my head until finally Kelly nudges his nose along my neck and whispers in my ear, "Breathe, baby girl."

I let out a gush of air and slowly open my eyes. Sully is staring at me with raised eyebrows, the tattoo pen suspended in the air between us. "You good?"

I try to glance at the tattoo in progress, but Kelly grips my chin and turns my face. "Nu uh, no peeking."

The buzzing resumes and I clench my jaw over the slight pain from the constant pressure of the needle. Before long, Sully is patting the sensitive skin and backing away. He looks at Kelly in question and Kelly nods. When Kelly turns to me, he's wearing a full-fledged grin.

"Do I finally get to see it?"

He helps me to my feet and leads me to a full-length mirror hung on the wall. Standing behind me, we look at the tattoo together. I blink at it a few times before I move closer to the mirror, bringing my hand up to lightly trace around the inked skin.

"Kelly," I whisper, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

He wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my head. "What do you think?" His self-assured grin from earlier is gone, replaced with a rare show of vulnerability.

I return my gaze to the new ink crawling along my left clavicle, noting the intricate details of the tiny flowers growing along a stem that loops into a lower-case cursive K. "I love it," I say, turning around to hook my arms around his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss.

His hands find their way to my ass, drawing our bodies closer together, and I pull away before he can get too carried away. It's then that I remember the mysterious wrist tattoo, and I hold his arm up to study it. "When are you ever going to tell me what this is?"

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and after a few swipes, he hands it to me. On the screen is the braille alphabet, and it takes me a few moments to process what I'm looking at. Once I finally understand, I grab his arm again and twist it to see his wrist better, looking between the ink and the phone as I slowly decipher what's written. Once I get to the last letter of my name, I gasp. Then I stomp over to Sully who's busy ignoring us in the corner.

"I need to make an appointment," I demand.

Sully looks at me with undisguised boredom. "Let me guess, you want 'Kelly' in braille on your wrist to match your boy's?"

Kelly walks up behind me and wraps his arms around me again, nuzzling my neck. "I fucking love you, baby girl."

"You guys make me sick," Sully spits out, shaking his head.

I glare at him. "I hope you have better customer service with non-family clients. You're kind of a douche."

"I'm the same me all the time, Sutton. The one and only Sully."

"Some day some unsuspecting chick is going to come crashing into your life, Sully. I hope you're ready for her."

He gives me his signature eyebrow raise. "Fucking doubt it."

"What?" I ask. "The girl or that you'll be ready for it?"

"Both."

I laugh. "Oh there's definitely a girl."

Kelly adds, "And he'll definitely not be ready for it."