Stella and the Boxer

Chapter 16

“Do ever think about getting tattoos anywhere but your arms?” I ask.

“I’ve always considered getting something bigger on my back, but other than that, no. I don’t want to get so many that they run together, either. I like for each one to be distinct, because they all tell a different story.”

Most of Charlie’s tattoos are nearer to the top of his arms, so I don’t have many to trace on his forearm. After, I slip my arm under his and rest my hand on his wrist, still in my lap.

As much as I love his tattoos, I am a bit relieved that he doesn’t plan on getting a full sleeve, or having his entire body covered, because I love how soft and warm his skin always looks, and I would hate to see less of his perfect arms.

“I like that they’re all in black ink. Did you do that on purpose?”

“Not necessarily,” He says, “Every time I drew something, the design was just always black, no color.”

“You drew all of them yourself?” I ask, looking back down at the few designs that I can see.

“Yes,”

“I love that,” I state simply, turning my head back towards of the passenger side window. I of course am interested in every meaning, every story, but I’d rather wait until he tells me, without having to ask. I guess I feel this way because my father had a tattoo done when he was young for his cousin who passed away. He would always clam up when people asked about it, and for a while, he would say that he regretted ever getting it, because every question was a reminder. I could always read the pain on my dad’s face when he would tell the story to someone new.

I spend a while appreciating the dark, but beautiful view as it passes quickly by.

I’ve always loved road trips, but this one is obviously special. Charlie’s car feels amazing to ride in. He must have had someone very talented restore it, because it’s smoother than any new car that I’ve ever experienced.

I feel so safe, too, so I can enjoy the darkness. I feel his fingers start to trace circles around my inner thigh, and my head slowly falls back into the headrest. I still gaze out the window, but my eyes feel heavy, and after a time, I drift off to sleep.

I wake up to my name being spoken softly and smoothly, and I feel a hand squeeze my knee.

I open my eyes and squint at the brightness around me, looking towards Charlie.

“We’re here,” He smiles at me, leaning into the car from the open, driver’s side door.

“The valet has our bags and they’re about to take the car, are you ready?”

“Yes,” I say quietly, still fairly confused. I unbuckle my seatbelt and realize that the abrasive lighting is coming from the hotel’s exceptionally well-lit exterior. I reach for the car door handle, but someone is already opening it for me.

I look up and expect to see Charlie, but instead, it is a nicely dressed hotel employee. I thank him and climb out of the car. Charlie is speaking to the man who’s carting our bags, but he reaches for my hand upon noticing me.

He tips both men and leads me into the hotel lobby.

While he checks in, I call my parents to let them know that I’ve arrived safely. We only speak for a few minutes, but they tell me to have a nice time and to be careful before we say “I love you” and “goodnight.”

I suppose they know now that Charlie and I are sharing a room.

It is nearly midnight when Charlie and I are finally settled. The room is extremely nice, and I feel the urge to reoffer half of the money, because I suspect that this hotel is very expensive. I know that Charlie won’t allow it though, so I decide to just be grateful.