Page 10 of Villainous Summer

Instep. That was the one.

The urge to pull a Gracie Lou Freebush overwhelmed me.

He leaned down closer to me. “Things don’t have to change that much, you know. We had a lot of fun together. We could do that again.” He brushed my hair off my face. A strand wrapped around his pointer finger. “I like your hair like this. The curls never suited you.”

“Don’t touch me.” Slapping his hand away, I leaned back.

He frowned, stuffing his hands in his pressed chinos. “So, you really want to be like that? After everything we had together?”

I snorted. “We had nothing together. We were a mistake.”

Considering me, he cocked his head before shrugging. “I guess all I have left of you are the pictures you sent me.”

My blood ran cold.

A month into my internship in London, he asked for them. I knew the risk but was so sure of Cory I figured where was the harm? After a few pints of Boddington’s at the pub, I had set up my phone against my flatmate’s stack of dragon shifter books and set the timer for three seconds. Stripped for the camera. Showed off my body to a man I thought I could trust.

He had promised me no one would see them.

“You need to delete those. We aren’t together anymore.”

I didn’t like the dread rising in my voice.

“Is that really what you want, Blue?”

Swallowing down the panic, I nodded. “Yes. That’s what I need. Delete them.”

He nodded at me, his lips pursing, as if I had disappointed him. “Fine, I will. But you’re making a mistake, throwing us away like this.”

“I didn’t do a thing.” Through the window, I saw Kodi swing the door open and walk in. “Run back to your fiancée and leave me alone.”

“Think about it. I know you still have my number saved.” He left me alone in the garden, my blood boiling.

The strand of hair he had wrapped around his finger stung as it fell against my cheek, as if radioactive . If I had a knife handy, I would have sawed it off.

Feel the ground beneath you.

I wished the ground could swallow me up.

In my peripheral, Imogen walked in the side entrance, waving at me.

With a steadying breath, I returned inside to Imogen. “Your three o’clock is waiting in the lounge for you.”

I didn’t wait for her response before stalking back to my office.

I closed the door, something I hadn’t done in the month since I had started.

No way was I leaving the safety of my space until six. But I wouldn’t be going home. I needed to stop at the beauty supply store first.

Bleach stings. It singes your nose hairs and burns your scalp. That was the first indicator that maybe trying to go level ten blonde was a bad decision. In my teens, I had dabbled with fun, bright colors. Before my senior year of high school, Devin and I had gone to the salon and got matching pink highlights. This was blue slop, piled high on my head.

Autumn stood behind me, painting the acrid mixture into my hair. Devin was on a video call with us, talking us through the process. Because she was the expert, having constantly changed the wild shades in her hair, I deferred to her.

Every few minutes, Autumn would ask, Are you sure? I’d respond with a wave to get on with it.

Under the plastic cap, my hair was hot on my head, the orange a reflection of my emotions.

On the video call, Devin leaned closer to the screen. “You know, if you would have asked, I could have cleared this whole thing up for you. Took me three minutes once you gave me his full name to find out everything about him.”

---