Page 42 of Making Choices

“That was… unexpected,” she remarks as she straightens her scrubs and smooths down her hair. Patting my chest twice once she’s put herself back together, Bebe steps around me. She’s halfway out of the door when she tells me, “Next time, I want you on your knees reciprocating.”

The final word she speaks pushes me over the edge and I barely have time to make it to the bathroom adjoining the hospital room before I’m vomiting. Bile spews from my mouth as I battle through the implications of what I just did—what I’m going to do the next time I see Bebe.

Reciprocating.

If only it was that simple…

10

LILY

“You want me to take it all off?” I ask with a straight face as I hold the vibrating device over Hunter’s head.

Mouth open, eyes wide, he spins on the stool we have set up in the courtyard of the compound. Hunter’s fingers wrap tightly around the wrist of the hand holding the hair clippers and his thumb flicks the switch to stop it buzzing. “Are you freakin’ stoned?”

“What?” The only way I can stop myself from laughing at the indignation on his face is by sucking my bottom lip between my teeth. “New year, new you… and all that.”

“It’s May.”

“Just a new you then?”

Lounging on one of the outdoor chairs as he waits his turn, Toker breaks into laughter first. Sander and Cub quickly join him. Most of the younger members of the club are lined up for haircuts after Hunter spread the word that I was pulling out the clippers to freshen up his hair this morning. Since their reputations are too precious to be seen at an actual hairdresser, I became the Shamrocks go-to girl for undercuts, shaved sides, and basic trims about five years ago when I moved back to the city to attend university.

It started with trimming Slash’s ends and cropping his undercut.

Morphed quickly into shaving the side of Zeke’s head as well.

Then, slowly but surely, the list grew to include the majority of the brothers. My uncles let me shave their heads. The old timers with chrome domes get me to shape their overgrown eyebrows. Even my dad lines up for a crew cut and a beard trim once a month. The only holdout is Sander. My twin has an endorsement deal with a nationwide chain of salons so he’s contractually obliged to get his hair cut by them.

Personally, I think he’s too chicken to let me near his pride and joy.

“Cherub.” Hunter enquires slowly as he scans my face with worried eyes. He enunciates his question like I’m hard of hearing. “Are you on drugs?”

When I see that Hunter hasn’t cottoned on to my joke, I start to feel bad. “No, kiddo. I was messing with you.”

“Because I haven’t changed my hairstyle since I was eight?”

“Yeah.” I tug my arm free of his grip and plant a gentle kiss to his forehead. “It was mean… I’m sorry I upset you.”

Although I get away with more physical contact than almost everyone else, bar for Crystal, I expect Hunter to wipe at the spot where I touched his face. His issues with germs are as well-known as his inability to read people so I know not to take offence. Only, this time, he doesn’t use one of his wet wipes to clean himself. Instead, he smiles wide and bops the end of my nose with the tip of his index finger. Leaning forward like he’s about to tell me a secret, he murmurs, “You weren’t mean… I was fuckin’ with you.”

“You little shit.” Lifting the clippers, I laugh hard as I make a shearing motion. “I should take it all off just to teach you a lesson.”

“Hey,” he exclaims through his own laughter before he points in the direction of my cousin and brother. “They’re in on it, too.”

I whirl around to face Toker, Cub, and Sander. Their expressions give them away, even though the trio shakes their heads to deny Hunter’s claim. “Just watch… you’re gonna end up with matching bowl cuts.” Pointing at my twin, I add. “Even you. I’ll get Zeke to pin you down for me.”

They try hard not to let my threat get to them. Sander looks everywhere but at me. My cousin pulls out a cigarette and balances it between his lips. He doesn’t light up because he knows I’ll refuse to trim his hair if he stinks like nicotine, although I can see he wants to. As usual, my gentle, unofficially adopted brother breaks first.

Cub pleads their case. “It’s hardly our fault that you crack the same joke every time you cut his hair.”

Cocking my head to the side, I scowl at him. “I don’t use the same joke.”

He blushes, a wave of crimson invading his freckled cheeks while Toker and Sander crack up next to him. “Hate to break it to you, Cherub, but your repertoire could do with some work.”

“Not my fault you three have zero appreciation for the classics.” I dismiss the annoying threesome with an eye roll. Hunter spins so he’s facing away from me and I switch the clipper on again. “Three on the undercut, trim the ends, right?”

“Actually,” Hunter ventures in a tight voice. He takes something out of the pocket of his cut and thrusts it at me. It’s a wrinkled print out of the rock star, Andy Black. “I’ve decided to change things up. Do you think you can give me somethin’ similar?”

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