Page 259 of Cross Check

“He was. He stripped out of the costume an hour ago.” I lace my fingers through hers. “Want to go have some fun in a place other than the guest bedroom?”

“Yeah.” Amelia finishes her drink with a grin. The flicker of amusement in her eye tells me her inhibitions are lowered. “Hot blonde number three is ready to party.”

EIGHTY-ONE

AMELIA

I was hesitant to come to this party, but I’m glad I did.

I’m having a blast.

The drinks are good, the people are nice, and I spot a couple of athletes who definitely didn’t tell their agents they’d be here tonight. An NDA was signed when I walked in, I left my cellphone in a bucket, and there seems to be a mutual understanding that whatever happens at this party, stays at this party.

“You’d look hot with a tattoo.” Grant slides his arm around my waist. His fingers fan out on my hip before he lets go and steps away. “Have you ever thought about getting one?”

“When I was in college, I almost got a hockey puck tattooed on my ass.” I grin. “I’m glad I didn’t.”

“What are you talking about? A puck on your ass would’ve been a great conversation starter. Why the change of heart? Are you afraid of needles?”

“No. I just never got around to getting one.”

“Tonight’s a good time to do it.”

“Okay, peer pressure.” I set my empty glass down and turn so we’re facing each other. “If I’m getting a tattoo, you’re getting one too.”

“Done.” He leads me to the leather table that’s set up under a fluorescent light. “I’ve been wanting to get more.”

“Really? Any ideas for designs?”

“Yup. I’m going to get a badger and an hourglass.”

“That’s oddly specific.” I lace my fingers through his when someone bumps my shoulder. Half a drink spills on the toe of my boots, and I lean into Grant. “What’s the reasoning behind that?”

“You,” Grant says, and my eyebrows pinch together.

“Because I remind you of a badger?” I ask slowly. “I mean, otters are cuter.”

“Otters are cuter, but the badger goes with Wisconsin and your incredible career there.”

“Wait a second.” I’ve only had one drink, but my vision starts to swim. I squeeze his palm, stopping us in the middle of the room. “You want to get at tattoo for me? It’s your body!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He taps the tattoo on his hand with a smile. “What’s two more?”

“Tattoos are permanent, you know. You can’t ever change it. In six years when you get sick of looking at it, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Good. I’d never want to. I told you I’m in this for the long haul, baby. We can’t tell the world about our relationship, but I’ll put a hundred tattoos on my body so there’s no doubt who I belong to.”

My heart thumps erratically. My throat feels dry and dusty, and I drag my nails down his arm, imagining my name somewhere on his body.

Grant tells me he loves me every chance he gets, but this is a different expression of that love. This is something he can never get rid of. Something he’ll carry with him until the end of time, and knowing he’s picking me as his inspiration makes a stupid grin split across my face.

“Where are you planning on putting this new souvenir?” I ask.

“On the inside of my right wrist felt like a good place. It’s my dominant shooting hand this season. I can see it under my glove whenever I score,” he says.

“You’ve thought about this.”

“Many times.” He folds his hand over mine, bringing it to his lips so he can kiss my knuckles. “The hourglass is also for you. The sand will be suspended in the middle of the two bulbs to represent how time stopped the minute I laid eyes on you.”