He’s always said he’d never let me tattoo him. And I do have enough stencils. After it’s perfectly placed on his ribs, I ask, “You sure?” “I’m sure I’ve lost my ever-loving mind.” Then he sighs into a grin, nodding. “Only because I love you.” “Took you this long?” “Don’t make me laugh—not while the needle is going.” Haven’t touched him yet. “Redford.” Farrow pops a bubblegum bubble. “Man, I’m not holding your hand.”
