“So, you made sure you could cover them up?”

“Exactly. Tattoos might be more mainstream now, but no one wants a lawyer who’s sporting visible ink. Also, my parents …” He lets that sentence trail off as he pops the buttons back in place.

As his chest disappears, I want to protest, but I can’t think of a logical reason to demand that he not wear a shirt.

“Your parents don’t know about them?”

Ben gives a half-shrug, half-headshake. “They know I have a few. But they’ve never been fans, so I stopped telling them.”

He reaches up to scratch his neck, and I’m suddenly very annoyed at Mr. and Mrs. Gerhard.

“I’m sorry. I think they’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” He looks at me like I’m talking crazy.

“Yeah, Ben. Your tattoos are beautiful. Deal with it.” I lightly punch his shoulder, trying to be playful. And also maybe because I’m having a hard time with not touching him. “Do they mean anything?” The pictures seem personal.

“Each one is a book I’ve read.”

“Really?” I want to rip his shirt open for a chance to guess which ones. “What’s the ship for?”

“Treasure Island. My granddad read it to me when I was a kid.” His voice has gone heavy with memory.

“The shovel and shoes?”

“Holes by Louis Sachar.”

“Nice. I loved that one, too. The bat?”

“Dracula.” He actually puts on a Romanian accent for that, and I roll my eyes while smiling.

“The dragon?”

“Eragon. Well, the whole Inheritance Cycle series actually.”

“Hmm, never heard of it. I’ll have to look it up. Okay, and the only other one I saw during your striptease”—he snorts—“was the castle.”

“Ah, yes. Have you ever heard of this magical place called Hogwarts?”

“Of course! You’re speaking to a certified Ravenclaw.”

“Well, I’m a Hufflepuff. But we can still be friends.”

We grin at each other like the geeks we are. But then I get a pang in my chest when I try to think back on the last book I read for pleasure. It’s been months, maybe even over a year.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” His hand cups mine, and I realize I’m frowning.

“Nothing. Just … you’re reminding me of some good books. And I used to love reading, but I feel like it’s been so long since I did it for fun.” I sigh and press my fingers to the growing ache in my forehead. “My schedule is so full. And, when I do have free time, I feel like I should be studying or working.”

Maybe Pops has a point.

“Careful you don’t burn yourself out.” Ben massages my fingers.

I’m surprised by how comfortable it is to have someone to hold on to.

But this is straying toward serious again. I want the lightheartedness back.

“Wouldn’t want your organ donor crapping out on you, now would we?” My lame joke falls like a cement block between us, and I immediately regret it.

Hurt clouds Ben’s emerald eyes. “Holly—”