“Fifty Shades, babe,” I said, and he responded with adisgusted groan.
Becki crossed her arms, eyeing him like an artist about to workher magic on a blank canvas. “What if we just buzz the sides and back down?Maybe trim the top a little bit, but we’ll keep some of the length. What doyouthink, sir?”
“Whatever. It’s just hair,” he said, and he turned to me. “What doyou think, baby?”
I wrinkled my nose, trying to imagine Devin with anything but thehairstyle I’d known for thirteen years. “I’m having a tough time picturing it.”
“Think David Beckham, a little wavier on top. Devin has a littlemore texture to his hair than Beckham does, but it would be hot and fresh.” Sheglanced down at me to where I sat and asked, “What do you say?”
God, I loved so much that her main priority wasn’t what the publicwould love, and so I nodded with a slight shrug. “It’s just hair, right? It’llgrow back if they don’t like it.”
“They?” Becki eyed me with a cocked brow. “He’sgottalive with it, and you’re the one going home with him,girly. I want to know whatyou guysthink.”
God, I liked her. So much.
“Go for it. It could look good,” I said, as Dev chimed in with,“Chop it off.”
She set out first with a wash, then thought it might be nice toadd some strategically placed highlights. Devin laughed, teasing me that hishair would be prettier than mine, and that was the precise moment Becki lookedat me and asked if I wanted her to do something with mine.
“It’s on the studio’s dime,” she said in a sing-song-y voice,grinning as she foiled Devin’s hair
“I like mine!” I shouted with a laugh, gripping at the long endsof my hair protectively.
She laughed. “Girly,trust me, I love the purple. But Icould make it multidimensional with lavender and lilac highlights. I have acrazyvibrant shade of purple dye. It’s really morevio—”
“Her hair is already multidimensional,” Devin argued. “You don’tsee the shades of amethyst and magenta? And sometimes, when the light hits itat the right angle, there’s just a bit of lavender in there already.”
Becki took a moment to spread her fingers over her chest, her eyestaking on a doe-like appearance. “Wow, he’s sweet,” she observed, and I nodded,grinning like an idiot in front of this cool stranger.
“He is,” I agreed.
“You’re a lucky gal,” she said, smiling without the slightest hintof jealousy showing on her face, and I replied, “I know it.”
“So, you have objections to me doing something to your lady’shair, then?” she asked Devin, coming to stand behind me, gripping my shouldersin her hands.
He shook his head, finding my eyes and smiling. “No objections. Iwas just correcting you.”
With a wicked excitement, she came at my head with fingers itchingto work their magic. She led me to a sink and instructed me to sit and leanback in the chair.
“Do you dye it yourself?” Becki asked, spraying my hair withdeliciously warm water and I closed my eyes with a relaxed sigh.
“Usually,” I said. “Dev actually helps sometimes—”
“Oh God, that’s adorable.”
I smiled. “Yeah, he used to love going to the job sites withpurple under his nails,” and I laughed lightly at the memories of our formerlife. It was melancholy. “Anyway, sometimes I get it done professionally, forspecial occasions.”
“Mm,” she hummed, kneading her fingers against my scalp. “Can Isuggest a deep conditioner perfect for color-treated hair? Yours is prettyhealthy, considering all of the torture it’s been through, but I have this onethat’ll make it soft as hell.”
I imagined Devin’s fingers in my hair and complimenting me on itstexture. I pictured him pulling it back, dipping his mouth and biting my neck.I fantasized about his hands tangled in its length as he made love to me,whispering his declarations of love into my ear.
And I grinned. “Absolutely.”
?
While my hairsetand I scrolled throughthe fan-assigned hashtag,#daisiesanddevin,Becki finished with Dev, hidden from my view—washing again, cutting, drying andshowing him how to style it.
“I’m never going to do this you know,” I heard him protest, and Ibit my lip, holding back the laugh. “I don’t even own afreakin’brush.”
