Page 20 of You Saw the Best In Me

“Goodnight, ladies,” I call out to Alivia and Hannah, and they wave as I walk out the door.

I set my directions to the store, roll the windows down, and blast the music the whole ride.

I’m in heaven. There’s a variety of hair styling tools in this store, and I’m loading up my cart fast. I pick out the cutest set of scissors and combs, bright pink to match my vibe.

Next, I get brushes, spray bottles, clippers, and three colored aprons.

Finally, I grab a big pack of hair clips, gloves, and small hair ties.

A silver box of dye draws me in, and impulse control is lacking because I buy it and a bleach kit.

New town, new hair.

I’m satisfied with everything I have to start, and I dig around for my license to hand to the cashier.

Luckily, I had a good day with tips to cover most of this stuff; the rest I throw on my credit card and I’ll let my mom handle that charge when she sees it.

She gave me this credit card years ago so I’d never be out of money, and I rarely use it anymore, but it’s nice to have.

I’m excited to start on my hair, and my phone rings with a new text.

What kind of pizza do you like

Meat lovers or just pepperoni why?

I’m bringing dinner. Be there in twenty.

Shit, I didn’t think he’d actually want to come over after what happened last time.

There go my plans to dye my hair.

I get home a few minutes before Maverick said he’d be here, so I have time to change.

I decide to be teasing, but keep a bra on this time, choosing a v-neck shirt that shows off my cleavage and comfy shorts.

Better than last time.

I hear a knock at the door and take a deep breath. Dinner and tequila with the man I’m not supposed to fuck again … what could go wrong?

I open the door and I am instantly blasted in the face with confetti.

“What the fuck, Maverick?” I yell, my vision blurred by tiny pieces of colorful paper.

He laughs hysterically, a sound I could listen to on repeat.

“Sorry, neighbor, I had to get you back for that fucking cricket noise last night,” he says, bringing the pizza box inside and placing it on the counter.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” I say, pulling down two plates and two shot glasses.

“Yeah, right, and I didn’t just blow a load of confetti all over your face,” he immediately bites his lip, realizing the words that came out of his mouth.

I can’t help but laugh out loud at the most ridiculously strung-together sentence I’ve ever heard.

Maverick’s cheeks are bright red, but he’s laughing, too.

“Let’s eat,” I shake my head, handing him a plate.

“This is the best pizza place in town. Thankfully, your taste in toppings is better than your shitty music,” he smiles at me, and I can’t get enough of the shimmer in his eyes.