Killer Queen [Book 1]

Chapter 25

Stiles and I walked around the tattoo parlor looking at different images of tattoo ideas, taking down a few and looking at them.

    "You should totally get this one." Stiles said to me as he held up a picture of a Kanima, laughing as I lightly smacked his head.

   "Maybe Scott wants it," Stiles said, turning to Scott. "Hey, Scott! You sure you don't want something like this?"

    Scott looked unamused at the picture.

    "...too soon?" Stiles asked.

    "Yeah..." he nodded.

    He set the picture aside and we walked over to him, Stiles looking at Scott. "I don't know, man. Are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?"

    "I'm not changing my mind." Scott said.

    "Okay, but why two bands?" I asked.

    He shrugged. "I just like it."

    "Great. You just like it. I just like Stiles, how about I get him tattooed on my arm?" I said.

    "Really?" Stiles asked, looking at me with interest.

    "No, idiot." I answered, "I don't like needles."

    Stiles shrugged, looking back at Scott. "But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning? You know, or something?"

    "Getting a tattoo means something." he answered.

    The tattoo artist nodded. "He's right. Tattooing goes back thousands of years. The Tahitian word tatua means "to leave a mark," like a rite of passage."

    "Yeah, see? He gets it!" Scott said.

    Stiles looked from the man to Scott. "He's covered in tattoos, Scott—literally."

    The tattoo artist held up the needles dipped in ink. "Okay, you ready? You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?"

    "Nope!" Scott answered excitedly.

    Stiles cleared his throat. "I tend to get a little squeamish, though, so...meet you outside, Scotty." he took my hand and we walked out of the tattoo parlor, walking to his Jeep and getting in.

    "You want me to drop you off at the loft?" Stiles asked me.

    Derek and I had left our old house and had bought out a building, and we were living in a large loft on the top floor.

    "No. Derek's out somewhere and won't be back until morning. I'll just stay at Allison's." I answered.

    "Or..."

    I turned my head and looked at him with a little smile, having him smile back. "You know your father still doesn't like me, Stiles."

    "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, taking my hand and kissing the back of it, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. "I do."

My door opened and we looked to see Scott, his arm wrapped in cloth, a smile on his face.

"Hey. Parker, you mind getting in back?" Scott asked me.

"Scott—"

"It's fine, Stiles. I don't mind." I kissed his cheek and climbed into the backseat, taking a seat and buckling myself in as Scott got into the car.

"You two make me want to throw up sometimes." Scott told us.

"I'm sure you'll get back into the dating pool again, Scott." I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Then you can go back to making me sick."