Stone grumbled something under his breath that was inaudible to me.

When he asked what I wanted to do that day, I told him that I had built up a fondness for the beach. I did not elaborate that it was because of him. That is when he suggested that he would teach me how to surf.

I thought surfing looked cool, but I was not naive in the way that I thought I was going to be any good at it.

Stone kept walking ahead as I held back and watched him. More especially his back. From a couple of yards away, you could still tell what was tattooed on his back for all to see.

It still sent my heart racing at the view of the gorgon's head. That was despite spending at least an hour studying each line the previous night in bed. At which at the same time, he watched me watching him with an amused smile.

I also spent a good two hours apologising to him for the marks on his back due to my nails. I felt so bad that I almost cried but he reassured me with a grin that he was going to wear the scratch marks like a badge of honour.

The medusa head disappeared as the large man turned around. He had the same contest and entertained expression that he had hours ago.

I jogged to catch up with him and when I did, he linked his free hand that was not holding the surfboard with mine.

"Do you like your mark on me, Medusa?" He asked.

I assumed he meant the tattoo and not my claw marks. I was going to have to convince him to get his whole back tatted.

Nudging him with my hip in response, I did not let go of his hand as I replied, "You know that you are kind of a romantic, Lurch."

He sent me a glare "No. I am not."

"Should I expect you to recite sonnets to me soon?" I teased.

Stone smirked "It is a shame that your love poem is in my other set of shorts."

I smiled suggestively "It would not hurt for me to check the ones you have on now."

His head lowered slightly, and I thought he was about to pull me closer when a voice called his name from near the water.

Reed was also carrying a surfboard as he ran in our direction. The tattooist's hair looked more copper in the sun and his round glasses were gone.

He reached us and it was apparent that he was serious. His demeanour was nothing like what I saw of him at the parlour.

His presence also made the smile on Stone's face drop.

Then I realised that the night I got my tattoo was not the last time they had spoken. Reed was who he was speaking to on the phone when I was eavesdropping in the Armstrong's bathroom.