Chapter 26

"What do they mean?"

"Hmm?" Malachi opens a sleepy eye and looks up at me.

"Your tattoos. What's the meaning behind them?" I point my finger at his chest and stomach where black ink is traced in intricate designs. I want to lean closer to inspect them, but I am aware of the intimate position we are in. The morning sunshine edges the curtains in gold, casting a rosy glow over the bed where we both lie.

Malachi is shirtless, and the sight of his bare torso rippled with muscles excites me in ways I don't want to think about just yet.

I want to be close, so much closer, and feel his skin and ink beneath my fingertips. But I don't think our relationship—whatever it is between us—is ready for that yet.

"They don't mean much," Malachi sits up and runs a hand through his tousled hair. I think he is trying to smooth it down, but it doesn't cause anything to that effect. Still, I marvel at the action, at the way his bicep flexes in such a tantalising way. I can't help but remember the time thos