Page 11 of Shifting Fate
She snorted. “Right.I’mthe slut.”
I sighed again. “Fine, but I’m not giving up.”
Tashi smacked my leg with her paperback. “Good, now get out of my house so I can finish reading. I’ve got an essay due at midnight and I haven’t even started it.”
“Ouch. Better you than me.” I leaned over and kissed her on the top of the head. “See you later, sis, and good luck.”
“Thanks, I’ll need it. Text me when dinner’s ready?”
I grinned. “I’ll think about it.”
She chucked the throw pillow at me and I waltzed out the door, laughing all the way.
* * *
Purple.
It invaded my dreams, painting everything a vibrant shade of violet. It splashed over my fur, and when I shook out my wet coat, it splattered the trees all around me—and there was Arias, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.
When I woke up the next morning, I had an idea.
A couple of calls to my favorite hairdresser, and I had an appointment booked for noon, courtesy the fabulous Tybalt Lexington. I knew from past experience that he would turn me into a beautiful work of art. If I wanted to reinvent myself, Ty was the man for the job.
I strolled through the front door, fashionably late as usual. Tybalt lounged in one of the barber’s chairs, tilted back so far that I feared for the chair. He was a big guy—six-four and built like a pitbull, all solid muscle, and he had the dick to complete the package, let me tell you.
When they tell you bear shifters are hung? They’re not kidding.
His hair was Fabio-long and dyed a soft ash gray, with small but intricate braids and little glass beads strung through those luscious locks. He sat up when he saw me, his gaze slowly raking down my front.
“Hey, babyboy. Long time no see.”
I grinned. “Looking fine, as always.”
“What brings you to my humble abode?” he rumbled out, humor in his voice.
“See this?” I pointed to my unkempt hair-do. “This needs to go bye-bye. I’m thinking something fresh but fierce. I’m trying to impress a guy and his favorite color is purple, so I want you to make me look like a god, Ty. Cut, bleach, dye—the whole shebang. Can you do it?”
“Hah. You mock me? Sit and let me work my magic.”
I plunked down in the chair and he spun me around, securing an apron around my neck. He took his time running his hands through my hair, and I had to admit, being preened over felt nice. Reminded me of just what I was missing in my life. I’d been kind of in a funk since the day Gage kicked me to the curb without so much as a farewell fuck.
It was nice catching up with Tybalt as he meticulously bleached each chunk of hair. He studied me, a half-smile on his face. “Shall it be a surprise?”
“Only if you promise to make me pretty.”
“Oh, darling, you don’t need any help in that department.”
I smirked. “So long as it’s purple, I don’t care what you do.”
Taking that as his cue, he spun me around so my back was to the mirror. I closed my eyes and let myself be whisked away by the pungent scent of hair dye. He painted my hair like one might paint a canvas. I browsed my phone while waiting for the dye to set.
Once he’d washed it out and conditioned it, he brandished a pair of trimming shears and began to snip away the old Dallon, strand by strand. He trimmed the sides short, the electric razor vibrating against my ear, making me shiver with anticipation.
“Almost done,” he sang, fluffing my new ‘do with one hand, while he blowdried my hair with the other. “And voila!” He spun me back around so that I could stare at the masterpiece he’d created.
Wow. Talk about a brand new me.
Gazing at my reflection, I ran my fingers through my significantly-shorter hair. It was soft and silky from the product he’d used, the most luxurious purple on the top with the sides buzzed short and dyed a dark silver. I had to give the man credit—he knew his way around a salon.
