Marked

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Authors: Garrett Leigh
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Marked
     
     
    Pete
    One month after the first snow….
     
     
    I WATCHED Ash as he walked along beside me. It was easy enough to do without him noticing, because the kid always walked with his head down. How he didn’t bang into every obstacle in his path, I’d never know. Another cigarette found its way from his pocket to his lips. I had to look away as he lit it.
    Shit .
    I didn’t even like smoking, but there was something about the way Ash did it that captivated me. Hell, everything he did captivated me. If I wasn’t lucky enough to share my bed with him, he’d probably think I was a total creep.
    We crossed the street, and I stepped in front of him to open the door to our building. He offered me an absent smile as he watched me, like he wasn’t entirely present. I grinned fondly, because it wasn’t unusual for him to be distracted. When he first came to live with me, I figured he was kind of aloof—maybe even a little strange—but I’d come to realize in recent months that he was just a thinker. I often caught him in a world of his own.
    Behind me, he lingered to finish his smoke, so I was alone when I opened our front door. I kicked my shoes into the corner and shrugged out of my coat, but as I walked into the living room, I realized I didn’t really know what to do next.
    Ash had surprised me tonight—I’d come out of the firehouse to find him waiting for me. He sat on the back of a bench on the other side of the street with his head down and his hands in his pockets. A casual observer probably wouldn’t have seen him slide off and fall into step beside me, but as we walked away, I felt my partner Mick’s eyes burn a hole in my back. Like the old woman he was, he’d been angling for a glimpse of Ash for weeks… said he wanted to put a face to the source of my constant distraction.
    Asshole.
    It didn’t help that the moment I’d seen Ash, I’d walked away from him without a backward glance. He was going to give me hell for that in the morning.
    The front door creaked. Ash appeared a few moments later. “What are you doing?”
    I spun around, startled. He’d caught me staring into space. “Um, waiting for you. Where do you want to do this?”
    Ash looked around the room, considering his answer. “Just sit on the couch. We’ll figure it out.”
    He disappeared, presumably to get his gear. I wandered over to the couch, as instructed, and sat down. I thought about taking my shirt off, but I didn’t. Instead, I just sat like a chump and twiddled my thumbs.
    It felt weird to be so nervous. It wasn’t an emotion I was familiar with. When I was working, I didn’t have time to worry about things until they’d already happened, and in my personal life—until recently, at least—I hadn't had much to feel anything about. But when Ash had finally agreed to tattoo me, I’d felt a strange flutter in my belly, and the closer he got to putting a needle to my skin, the worse it got. Maybe it was because we were doing it at home. I’d always assumed he’d do it in the shop, like any other client, but he’d surprised me tonight when he’d met me at work and told me today was the day. Now, for reasons I didn’t quite understand, I found myself sitting on the couch feeling like I was about to lose my damn virginity.
    “Pete?”
    I looked up, and just like that, the strange nerves faded. Ash had that effect on me. Half the time, the kid was a bundle of nervous energy, but when he was cool, he was like a fucking Prozac or something. I reckoned it was his eyes.
    “ Pete ?”
    “What?”
    Ash grinned and shook his head. “Take off your shirt. I need to get your skin ready.”
    I grasped the hem of my T-shirt, smirking. I hesitated for a moment, hoping he’d take it off for me, but he didn’t. In fact, he stepped away from me and started rummaging through a box I hadn’t noticed on the coffee table.
    Sighing slightly, I pulled the shirt over my head. Though Ash had dispelled the antsy feeling I’d

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