I can see the question written all over her face. The one that everyone asks—why did you get those tattoos? Do they mean something? Do you think you’ll regret them when you’re older? It’s always the same.
“I like art,” I say. Her eyes find mine, but she doesn’t say anything. “That’s what you were thinking, right? Why I have so many?”
She averts her eyes to her black sneakers, and a blush covers her cheeks. God, she’s gorgeous. In a dream sort of way. Like nothing I’ve ever seen in person.
“Can I show you something?” she asks shyly.
“Yes,” I answer, stepping away from her to allow her space.
She walks toward the back. I follow her without being told. She pushes a back door that reads exit only, and we enter a narrow back alleyway. She takes a few steps away from the door and then turns to face me. I come to a stop and just stare down at her. It’s a sunny day here in Vegas, and the sun hits her eyes just right. They look almost see-through. Hypnotic. “What did you want me to see?” I ask, clearing my throat.
Placing her hands on both of my shoulders, she spins me around to face the back of the building with her. “What the …?” I trail off as my eyes look over the building. It’s covered in various shades of blue, red, green, yellow, and purple.
I step up to it and run my fingers over the brick. Blue water plays its part of a river. Tips of white make it look like it has rolling waves. To the right are mountains with peaks covered in dark clouds. To the left are tall buildings at night. Silver makes up the windows as they shine from the moonlight. “Someone vandalized your building,” I say. “It’s beautiful.”
“You think so?” she asks softly, still standing behind me.
I nod. “Absolutely.” I take a step back, coming to stand beside her and place my hands in my front pockets, just taking it in. “Fuck, it must have taken them forever to do it.” It spans the entire back of the building. There is no way this was done in one night. Well, that’s not true. I guess it depends on how many people they had working on it at once. But it doesn’t look like several people did it. It looks like one. Art is like anything else. Everyone’s strokes are different. There is nothing in this pic that doesn’t match. No. One person did this. And it took them more than one night. They used paintbrushes. Not like they threw some spray paint on it and ran. Maybe she didn’t notice it at first. She doesn’t come out here very often, and they came back multiple times to do it. “I can pick up some paint and cover it up,” I tell her.
“What?” she asks, turning to face me.
I do the same and look down at her. “I can cover it up.” I sigh. “Not gonna lie, I’d hate to do it, but they shouldn’t have done that to your building.”
She tilts her head to the side, looking up at me. “If you could erase any of your tattoos, would you?”
I frown but answer without hesitation. “No.”
She looks over at the back of the building and smiles. “Me neither.” She steps up to it and places her hands on the brick. “I did this.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
She turns to look at me. “I painted this.”
My mind is a little slow at the moment, so I point at it. “You did this?” I ask stupidly.
She looks down at her black Converse and bites her bottom lip. All of a sudden, she’s nervous.
I step into her and place my hand under her chin, lifting it so she looks up at me. Her piercing blue eyes shine from the sun hitting them. Then she lifts her hands and runs her fingers softly over my neck tattoo. I can’t help the shiver that runs through me at her softness.
“I like art too, Grave.” She speaks quietly as though the world can’t know our secret.
My hand drops from her chin to wrap around her waist, and I pull her body flush with mine. She doesn’t fight me or push me away. “You’re amazing,” I say honestly. I’ve never met anyone like her before. She’s the exact opposite of me. Full of life. Breath of fresh air. Talented.
She gives me a soft smile. Her eyes drop to my lips, and I try to think of anything else but her hands on me because I don’t want to get hard and ruin the moment.
But when her hands cup my face, I lose the battle. Her eyes meet mine again, and she whispers, “Kiss me.”
I begin to walk forward, forcing her to walk backward. Her back gently hits the building, and I bring my left hand up and cup the side of her face. She leans her head back, staring up at me with heavy eyes.