The Rockstar's Redemption

7. Do you really need an answer to that?

7. Do you really need an answer to that?

“Alright,” I snap my fingers in front of me.

I’m standing behind Reid, both of us in front of the bathroom mirror.

Worth mentioning, I’m perched on a tiny stool just to reach his height.

“Are you sure you’ve watched enough YouTube tutorials?”

“Yes!” I shout for the fifth time. “You’re making me nervous.”

He raises an eyebrow in the mirror, clearly telling me with his eyes: I’m the one who could lose it here, not you.

Smarty— I reply, squinting at him.

He exhales.

Distractedly, I run my fingers through his damp hair, thinking about where to start. But I get lost in the softness of his chestnut strands. Through the mirror, I see Reid close his eyes and lean into my touch, his face serene. It’s as if he’s enchanted me because I just stand there, studying that calm expression, noting every tiny feature on his face.

Then his eyes open, meeting mine in the reflection, and my heart stops for long seconds.

I see how, little by little, the more we stare at each other, his pupils dilate, and his relaxed expression shifts to something almost hungry. My breathing starts to hitch as Reid’s gaze becomes more intense, deeper. When my fingers brush his temple and he tilts his face so that his lips press—almost imperceptibly—the inside of my wrist, a shiver runs through me. I pull my hand away immediately, scared by how good it felt.

I clear my throat, stretch for the clippers that are already plugged in, and turn them on. Their shrill buzz fills the bathroom, making me even more nervous. Reid finds my gaze in the mirror again, warning me with his eyes that I better do this right, or it’ll be Willa’s dead body. Just that look has me seriously considering leaving half his head bald.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, his husky voice sending another shiver down my spine.

“Me?” I say, laughing with feigned innocence. “Nothing.”

“Of course, that’s why you’re giving me that creepy face.”

I suspect he knows perfectly well that my mind was filled with images of him sporting a bald spot courtesy of me. But since he has no right to invade my thoughts—much less read them—I tap him on the shoulder, scolding him.

“Shut up, you’re making me nervous.”

He stays quiet—thank God!

And I begin.

Recalling every step I saw online, I start trimming his hair, leaving it slightly shorter on the sides than on top. Not everything went perfectly: two tiny nicks on his neck and near his ear nearly gave me a heart attack, but beyond that, I think I did pretty well.

Except… oops. I left him covered in hair everywhere.

I burst into a loud laugh, unable to hold it in when I see him like that.

Reid watches me silently through the mirror, as he has the whole time. Astonishingly, he doesn’t flinch or show any nerves. He just stays there, still, calm in my hands.

Does that mean he trusts me?

The thought brings his earlier words to mind, when he said Katarina was the only person he trusted. Immediately, my laughter dies, wiping away all trace of good humor, because I cannot afford to develop feelings for this man. Reid is so full of mysteries that I suspect he carries a darkness capable of swallowing me whole. The last thing I need in my life is feelings for him. I know it would only lead to inevitable heartbreak.

My breathing stops when Reid’s eyes meet mine, and it feels like he knows everything I think, everything I feel, everything that hurts me. It’s unsettling and intimidating at the same time; I can’t hide anything from him. I look away when I feel I can’t take it anymore, when his eyes become too intense.

I stretch, open one of the bathroom cabinets, and grab a makeup brush. I lift the makeshift cloth I wrapped around him and brush the hair off his neck. When it’s all clean, I say:

“Turn around.”

He does, and we end up face-to-face, at the same height, so close his breath brushes my face, wreaking havoc in my stomach and making my hands shake. I almost ask him to move away, but I don’t. Not when his eyes hold me captive, giving me no escape. I even stop breathing for a moment. Reid Colleman is handsome, but it’s not just his looks that stir these reactions in me. No, there’s something more, something I still can’t name.

I’ve never felt this with anyone, not even with Jason.

I clear my throat, forcing myself out of my stupor.

“Close your eyes, rock star.”

He does as I ask, letting me clean the tiny hairs off his face. I want to step away once I finish, but I can’t. I stay there, mesmerized. I want to reach out and touch his cheek, to caress him. I want to smooth the constant crease between his brows. I want him to smile at me for the first time, just so I could press a finger into the dimple I suspect appears on his cheek. I want…

My soul drops when his eyes open and catch mine on him.

I quickly step back, climbing down from the stool, completely embarrassed.

“You’re ready,” I murmur, head down, stacking everything in my hands to put it back in place.

I leave the bathroom for the bedroom, needing more space between us. With him so close, he fills everything—even me. When I have nothing in my hands and everything is put away, Reid follows behind me. Only the bathroom remains to clean, so I head there—until his voice stops me.

“Blue?”

I freeze and look at him, waiting.

“Yes?”

His eyes scan my face slowly, making me blush uncontrollably. My pulse races, and I want to run, hide from him, from what he makes me feel with just one look. I’m tired of feeling this much, tired of connecting with him more than I ever have with anyone—and the worst part is, without words. I’m exhausted by the uncertainty, the mystery that surrounds him, making me feel like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing while helping him.

“Do I look like Reid Colleman?” His simple question makes me smile a little; I think it’s the most normal thing he’s said in a long time.

“You look better than Reid Colleman.”

I close my eyes in dismay as the heat rises in my face, blushing at the words that escaped without permission.

Stop, Willa, stop! Think before you speak, don’t embarrass yourself!

But my words are true. He doesn’t look like Reid Colleman, the rock star. He looks even better. With his beard and short hair, his mysterious aura intensifies—but that’s not all. He looks more masculine, more mature, he looks… hot. Something that is not good for me or my sanity.

Is there a rewind button for undoing certain actions? Because right now I wish I hadn’t cut his hair. Yet, I regret my selfish thought. Now he can go out during the day, at least while he handles his business, of which I still have no clue.

And with that last thought, an overwhelming sadness washes over me again, reminding me he doesn’t trust me. Does Katarina know everything? Probably. And I don’t want to feel what I feel, but I can’t help it.

I lower my gaze to my feet, hands intertwined, playing with my fingers. I don’t know how long I stay like that, trying to sort my thoughts. I only know that what brings me back to reality is warm fingers on my chin, forcing me to lift my face.

A hitching breath escapes me, surprised by Reid’s touch and by having him so close.

His thumb presses my chin, lifting my face further so his eyes can study me. The crease between his brows deepens, and his brown orbs darken with anger as he senses my sadness.

“No,” he whispers.

I blink and open my mouth, but it’s dry. I lick my lips and try to focus to get out a simple, “What?”

His thumb rises, grazing almost my lower lip, as his eyes darken.

“Katarina and I are just friends, Willa.”

It’s the first time he says my name.

It’s… I don’t comprehend the magnitude of what he makes me feel.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He takes his time, as if searching for the right words, as if even he doesn’t know the answer.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, squinting before slowly shaking his head, as if waging an internal battle. “Now you can sleep easy with that beautiful conscience of yours. I don’t have a girlfriend, Willa, and stopping sleeping with you in my arms is not a f*****g option.”

“Why?”

“Do you really need an answer to that?”

“Yes.”

He glances from my mouth to my eyes, twice, then leans in just a centimeter toward me, his lips parting slightly. I think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. He just stays there, staring at me for one, two, three seconds.

Then he turns and walks away, leaving me completely stunned.