“Let’s get this started,” she said, hoping her voice sounded all business – though the slight tremble in it soundedveryobvious, at least to her. She just hoped Trent hadn’t noticed it.
She mixed up the dye solutions swiftly with a practiced hand, before shaking them up in the applicator bottle.
“Okay!” she said. “You ready to go blond?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Trent laughed, though Zina couldn’t help but notice his voice still sounded just theslightestbit strained – though it was probably just because he’d never dyed his hair before.
But as she leaned forward, Zina suddenly realized that the hell she had created for herself when she’d insisted on helping instead of just letting Trent dye his own hair the way he’d wanted to was only just beginning.Now,she had to lean down over him from behind, run her fingers through his hair – even if her fingerswerecovered in baggy plastic gloves – and stare at his upturned face, his closed eyes, eyelashes surprisingly long and thick against his high cheekbones.
Okay. This is fine.
Since his eyes were closed, Zina let herself bite her lip again as she slowly spread the dye through Trent’s hair with one hand, working it in with the other.
Somehow, she could feel the warmth of his skin against hers even though she wasn’t directly touching him. Her stomach churned, her fingers shaking as she ran them through his hair.
Focus. Just focus. No point in giving him nasty chemical burns on his scalp if the whole point of doing this was for himnotto get nasty chemical burns on his scalp.
“Um,” she said, casting about for some topic of conversation to take her mind off things. “So… what do you even shift into, then?”
“A kangaroo,” Trent said. “But not a regular one – my guys are all extinct outside of their shifter forms now.”
“Oh… what’s the difference?” Zina asked.
“Size, mainly.” Trent’s eyes flickered up to hers. “I’m a lot bigger.”
“Is that so?” she murmured, brushing the dye through his hair, trying to keep her mind on the job. “Um. Where did you get the tattoo?”
“Oh, this?” Trent gestured vaguely at his arm. “Youthful indiscretion. Not that I regret it, but I probably didn’t need to spendquitethat much money on it. And my mum went mad. She asked how I thought it’d look in fifty years’ time, but to be honest I just thought it’d still look pretty badarse.”
Zina laughed – and felt her fingers twitchingjusta little as she resisted the urge to run them over the dark lines of ink, just to see if they felt any different to the rest of his skin.
Not that I’m thinking about touching his skin anywhere else either!Zina told herself resolutely, gritting her teeth and trying to keep her gazeonlyon the hair she was dyeing.
But still, try as she might to remain stoic, Zina found it took all her focus not to get drawn into the sheerfeelingof Trent being so close to her.
Okay. I just have to get this over and done with. As quickly as possible.
She didn’t have time right now to tease apart all the reasonswhythis was happening. Even if shedidfigure it out, it would have been completely the wrong time for her to say anything – they were on the run! Hargreaves could catch up with them at any moment! This was no time for her to be losing her head over a hot guy.
Even if heisreally,reallyhot.
“Okay!” Zina said, yanking her hands back from Trent’s head the instant she’d finished evenly covering his hair with the bleach. Well, at least shehopedshe had. Shehopedshe hadn’t just given him the world’s worst, patchiest dye job.
As she stepped away, wanting to get at least a little distance between them, she noticed just how heavily Trent himself was breathing – and just how glistening his tanned skin was, overlaid as it was with a fine sheen of sweat. His hands were balled into fists on his knees, his knuckles white.
Zina blinked, trying to take all of this in, her mind feeling scrambled.
“Ah – right.” Trent’s voice when he spoke was a low, husky growl. “Okay. Thanks for that.”
“Y-you should leave it in for twenty minutes, then rinse it out,” Zina stammered. “I’ll – I’ll put the little shower cap thing on for you –”
“No – that’s okay,” Trent said quickly, leaning over to grab it from where it was sitting on the sink. “I’ll do it. And. Uh. I’ll just stay in here for a bit. So I’m not getting bleach smell everywhere.” He cleared his throat as he opened out the plastic disposable shower cap. “If you… wanted to get some rest or pack up, now’s a good time. We should probably get out of here pretty quickly – as soon as we’ve organized some transport.”
“Um. Okay. I’ll do that.” Zina backed out of the room, her heart hammering in her chest. Only after she’d closed the bathroom door did she remember she still had the bleach-coated plastic gloves on her hands. Tearing them off, she tossed them in the trashcan in the kitchenette.
She wiped the bleach solution off the bathroom doorhandle with a tissue, resisting the urge to press her ear to the door.
Why would you even want to do that?!she chastised herself as she stood up.Are you going out of your mind? Has all the stress finally sent you round the twist?!
