"No...no..you know I want to do this." Smed was ready. "Just find me a tattoo place for my tat." He was nursing one of those smoothies he had found a knack for while he dug through the phone book.
Megan would have spit nails at him..if she could. This was not going at all like she anticipated.
NOTE TO SELF. DON'T BRING UP TATTOOS DURING SEX.
"No..no.." He was getting testy. "I'll get I LOVE MEGAN in a big fat heart right on my arm." He pointed to his bare bicep in the grey tank he was wearing. Evidently all those antioxidants were going to his head from the frozen fruit in that purple drink, thought Megan. "No..No..lets make that ..I BELONG TO MEGAN..or..or PROPERTY OF MEGAN FOWLER." He slapped the phone book shut.
"Are you done yet?" She glared at him. This was turning into their biggest fight ever. "It was just a suggestion!" How did she know that he didn't like needles, and it took four nurses to hold him down to get a booster shot his Freshman year in high school.
At least Paul was in his summer classes and not around to witness this in his home. Some nanny she was, Megan thought.
"No." His glare was down right wicked. "No, I'm not." It felt like the last straw was drawn. He backed away as if he were finished. "Look, I've gone out of my way, to do just about anything for you, Meg. Anything. And what do I get in return? More stuff to do for you." He looked as if she'd stricken him, somehow.
"Smed." Megan winced hard. "You don't mean that."
"Mean what?" His voice cracked. "Is this all I mean to you, a stupid tattoo?" Smed looked as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.
He turned to go out the back door. She never liked him going through the front entrance. But he was leaving now. Out the door. Away from Megan.
"WAIT!" She heard her voice echo through the house, but he didn't.