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While it will take me a bit to wash my hair out, I don’t care. I’d rather help her for now since this is my fault to begin with. She did the spell to help me.

"Do you?" she asks.

I don't answer; instead, I spray water through her hair. Salt dissolves and runs down the drain. Her coils loosen with warm water, leaving behind something akin to a feather. Yet, they're dense. I work slowly, separating each section and making sure all the salt is gone.

Yue's eyes drift closed, and she hums. "That actually feels good."

"Don't sound so surprised."

"You're a stripper, not a hairstylist."

"I have a mother and cousins who are women," I state.

Her shoulders fall from near her ears as she relaxes under my hands. I keep working, moving from the crown of her head down to the nape of her neck. Salt has gotten everywhere, including behind her ears, along her hairline, and even in her eyebrows.

"You have salt in your eyelashes," I say, leaning closer before setting the spray nozzle down.

"Of course I do." But she doesn't open her eyes. She just tilts her face up, letting me wipe the salt away with my wet fingers. I trace her brows with one hand while slipping my other around her neck. Holding her in place, I prevent water from crashing onto her eyelids.

This close, I can see every detail of her face. The curve of her cheekbones sends my heart racing. I had her earlier, but my dick is ready for more. It throbs in my pants, pulsing with want. A small scar above her left eyebrow shines. I've never noticed before.

"What happened here?" I ask, removing my hand from her throat before touching the scar gently.

"Spell went wrong when I was sixteen," she murmurs, voice light and fluffy. "Shit blew up in my face."

"Seems to be a pattern with you."

One of her eyes open, and she smiles. "Shut up, Ekon."

"Make me."

Yue rises slightly, edging closer to me. Her gaze drops to my mouth, and air leaves her. It ghosts along my lips, moving into the cramped space between us. I move closer to her, leaning every so slightly. Her eyelids flutter, then my phone rings.

"Fuck," I mutter, pulling back.

I rise from my seat, and Yue moves sideways. On her sink, I find more towels, and I clean my hands while my phone goes crazy.

Once my hands are clean, I dig my phone out of my pocket, and my stomach drops when I see the name on the screen. "I need to take this."

"Go ahead," Yue says.

I answer the call. "Ma."

"Ekon, baby." Her voice fills the room like she's standing right next to me. "You didn't call me back."

"I was busy, Ma."

"Busy. Mm-hm," she hums. "Busy shaking your behind for strangers."

My lips twitch. "It's called dancing."

"It's called you giving me gray hairs." A pause and then something creaks in the background. "Listen, your father and I are coming down."

My hand tightens on the phone. "Down to where?"

"Downtown,” she hisses. “To New Orleans. Where else do you think we’re going?"

"When?"