She scrunched her nose up. “Not at all, I think tattoos are hideous; although, I have to admit that the Celtic crucifix on your back isn’t entirely terrible.” “Is that a compliment I hear?” I teased, elbowing her playfully. “Come on, you can say it. ‘Joey, my favorite, most amazing, most devastatingly good-looking brother, I love your tattoo’.” “Fine, it’s a nice tattoo.” Chuckling, she pushed me back and then hurried to catch up with me, her short legs slowing her down. “There, I said it. Are you happy now?”
