“It is with the deluxe package.” He winks.
“Luc…” I sigh, and his entire demeanour changes.
His smile drops, and he stands straighter.
“Thank you, really, for everything with the salon and my staff. But I think we need to end this—”
A sharp growl slices through my words, and the plastic tube of colour slips out of the box, onto the floor.
On instinct, I drop down to reach it and—
Crack.
“Shit,” I hiss, stumbling back from Luc, fingers pressed to the throbbing pulse in my skull.
“Fuck,shit, sorry, I was just trying to help. Let me—”
Warm hands land on my waist, lifting me off the ground and onto the counter edge like I weigh nothing.
Then fingers follow, rough in texture but tentative in their movement over my face.
“Let me see.” He pulls my hand away, and with watery eyes, I watch him study my forehead with the intensity of a medic on the battlefield.
When he brushes over a sensitive patch, I wince, and his eyes dart to mine. “It hurts here?”
I nod, that’s all I can manage, because this is too much.
His gentle touches, the worry in his voice, the care in his eyes.
Something warm rolls down my cheek, and he freezes.
“Ve…” His voice cracks a little, and that just makes it worse. “Baby, please don’t cry.”
I shake my head, sucking in air to try and form some words. “It’s not… this,” I splutter out, pointing to my head as the tears fall freely. “It’sthis.”I point between us. “This isn’t… part of my… five-year plan.”
His hands cradle my face so when I try to turn away, he easily stops me.
“Baby, you’re not making sense. Did I knock you that hard?”
“No, no.” I shake my head again, brushing away tears with my sleeve. “I have a plan. A five-year business plan. Ican’tget distracted.”
I stare up at him through blurry eyes. He doesn’t understand, warm brown gaze swimming with worry as he holds my face.
“Rue wants to see Revea before he…What the fuck?” Val’s large steps eat up the distance in seconds. “What’s happened? Are you okay? Is she okay?”
“We knocked heads. I thought it was fine, but now I’m worried she’s got a concussion.”
“Concussion?” Val’s fingers find my cheek, the other holds one finger up. “Can you follow my finger, Revea?”
I do, left and right, up and down.
“Good girl, that’s it.” Then he scowls at Luc. “Why the fuck did you knock heads?”
“She dropped something, and we both went to pick it up.”
“Why do you think she’s got a concussion?”
“She’s saying things that don’t make sense. Something about a five-year plan?”
