“Chill.” Gabe winked at Lisa and licked his lips. “If I wanted to take advantage of her I sure as hell wouldn’t start on your bathroom floor.”
“And the visual images just keep coming,” Lisa sang. “Remember, Gabe. She walks in with her virtue. I expect her to leave with the same.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gabe called, then followed me into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The bathroom suddenly felt fifty times too small as he maneuvered around me, put the toilet seat down, and sat.
Hands shaking, I pulled out the instructions and started reading.
All the while noticing that Gabe hadn’t said a word once we were alone.
“Your hands are shaking.” He finally pointed out.
“Well. you’re making me nervous because you keep tapping your foot.” I snapped.
“Oh.” He stopped tapping. “Sorry.”
I blew out the breath I’d been holding in and concentrated harder on the instructions. “It’s fine.”
A few seconds went by.
“If you stare any harder at that paper you’re going to burn holes through it.”
“Do you mind?” I asked. “Or are you a fan of going bald at twenty-one?”
“Twenty-two,” he corrected. “And sorry.”
I read the last bit of instructions and went to work, all the while hoping that I really didn’t end up burning all of his dark hair off. Though I had to admit, I wouldn’t mind… because for some reason, dark hair really didn’t suit him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The most erotic touch a man can experience is that of a woman digging her nails into his scalp and giving a little tug. —Gabe H., Wes M., and all men… everywhere.
Gabe
So the whole ignore Saylor for a few days and try to get her out of my head thing? Didn’t go as planned.
I dreamt of her.
I dreamt of her music.
Her kiss.
Her stupid laugh.
It was aggravating to say the least — especially when I was supposed to be focused on making sure my dad didn’t pop up at the Home again.
Things had been quiet. Too quiet. Even Wes was a bit concerned. He helped me hire the best private investigator money could buy. And still nothing.
We had no leads. It was like — he just disappeared. Which made me almost as nervous as if he was snooping around.
When I called my mom, she said he simply left and said he had something to do. Granted, she was used to his escapades. He was pretty unstable most the time but she still loved him — would do anything for him. I wasn’t sure what made me feel sicker — the fact that my dad’s number one desire in life was to bring me to my knees — or that my mom was still capable of loving someone who wanted to destroy her flesh and blood.
Saylor started combing out my hair, and I literally had to hold onto the countertop so I didn’t slam her against the nearest wall, plunge my tongue down her throat, and beg her to kiss me back.
And I would beg.
I would plead.
Damn, it had been forever since I’d felt so attracted to a girl — the all-consuming feeling was starting to grate on my nerves.
“I’ve been practicing every day,” Saylor said quietly, her fingers parting my hair as cold liquid made its’ way onto my roots.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm.” She started rubbing the dye in, then moved to another spot on the back of my head. “I think you’d be proud of me.”
“I’m sure.”
“I want you to watch.”
Holy shit, I almost choked before answering. “Yeah, I would love to.” No seriously… I would love nothing more.
Maybe I could.
Maybe my dad really was gone.
Maybe being with Saylor was possible.
Yeah. I was starting to throw myself tiny crumbs from the table in hopes that one day I could have the full meal. Yet I knew as much as anyone that by the time I made it to the buffet, the food would be gone — as if it was a mirage in the first place.
Saylor moved from my side and stood in front of me, her legs almost straddling mine as she leaned over and started dying the hair in the front.
I stared straight ahead, at her hips.
And groaned.
“Did I hurt you?” Her hands briefly left my head.
“No.” I coughed. “Sorry.”
Her hands returned. I fought the urge to close my eyes.
Her hands paused.
“Something wrong?”
“No.” She sounded like she was thinking. “It’s just… your hair’s really light right here.”
Damn it. I played dumb. “Oh yeah? Weird.”
“Gabe…”
“What?”
“Your hair’s almost blond.”
“Maybe it just looks that way because the dye’s so dark.”
“But—”
“Saylor.”
“What?
“I missed you.”
I felt like an ass for distracting her like that, but at least what I was saying was true. It wasn’t like I was lying.
She started rubbing the dye in again and sighed. “I missed you too.”
A smile spread across my features before I could stop it.
“And you’re a jackass for using something like that to distract me from the fact that you’re a natural blond and for some reason don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sandy blond,” I grumbled. “And it’s the truth. I did miss you.”
“Enough to help me more with my music?”
A cold spot of dye dripped down the side of my head and onto the towel across my shoulders. “After all, you said five tears.”
My shoulders relaxed. “I’ve only made up for one.”
“I know.”
“Tomorrow.” I licked my lips and tried to keep the next smile in but it was impossible. “Tear number two.”
“I have class all day, then I’m at the Home tomorrow.”
“Weird, me too.”
She laughed and grabbed my head. “Stop leaning forward or we’re going to end up dying your eyebrows too.”
“Fine, fine.”
She worked in silence and I was happy watching her legs…
“Okay.” She set everything down on the counter then sat on the floor facing me. “Tell me one true thing.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I swallowed and answered. “I hate dying my hair.”
It was her turn to look surprised.
“Then why go to all the trouble? And don’t spout crap about gray hair. I saw no gray hair, and you’re not the type of guy to turn down any female, cougar or otherwise…”