Phoebe
L ater that evening, ’s butt had gone numb from sitting on the bathroom tiles while she waited for the second box dye to take. Luckily, Bart kept her company; the Shepherd laid his head on her feet as though trying to keep her still. She left the door open so they didn’t suffocate from the fumes.
“What are you doing?” Axel found her in the main bathroom. She needed the bathtub to dye her hair.
“Doodling.” She glanced up from her notebook. “I don’t want my hand getting too stiff.”
“I was talking about the plastic bag on your head.”
“Dyeing my hair. Going to a salon wasn’t an option, given that I’m supposed to be lying low.” She put the sketchbook down on the black tiles beneath her.
“Do you need some help?” Axel asked, and she wished he wouldn’t be so kind and helpful because she was growing terribly fond of him. Staring up at him, she couldn’t believe how handsome he was. The crazy spider tattoo and shaved head usually kept people away from him, but his individuality only drew her in.
“I’m not sure you know much about dyeing hair,” she teased.
“Because I shave my head?” He arched a brow, running a hand over his stubbled scalp.
“Why do you shave your head? You’ve looked like you just enlisted ever since we first met,” she asked. August was always growing out his hair and her brother dyeing his, while Axel remained the same.
“Why are you changing your hair? I thought you liked purple,” he said, not giving anything away.
She couldn’t tell him the reason she was changing from her favourite colour to a muddy brown was because of the weaponised mail. She hoped the package had been sitting in her studio awhile, and it wasn’t a sign of things to come.
“Deflection looks good on you. I forgot you don’t like to answer questions. You prefer to come across as the mysterious, silent type of rockstar,” she said, hoping if she got under his skin he would leave her alone.
“Certainly got your attention,” he quipped, picking up one of the box dyes back by the sink.
“Thank you for your offer, but I’m fine. Please close the door.”
Axel did as instructed, closing the door only to trap them in together. Luckily, she had opened the skylights so they wouldn’t suffocate from the smell of dye. He sat between the double sinks.
“I meant close the door on your way out. I’ve got to wait for the timer to go off; the hard part is already over,” she said, hoping this second round of dye had covered the spots she’d missed. It’d taken far more time than normal to get it completely covered, but it was done now.
“You could have asked for help. You shouldn’t really be doing this alone; you’ve been locked up in the pool house and we don’t want you putting that hand of yours under too much pressure.”
“I already iced it twice today and did my physio exercises. No need to worry,” she said, even though she appreciated his concern for her. He’d been kind enough to let her sleep in his bed and keep it a secret from the others for more than a few nights. It was becoming an unspoken arrangement, and even though she started every night in her own bed, she tossed and turned until she padded down the basement steps to find he’d already pulled the duvet over on what was becoming her side.
“‘Brunette Babe’ was the one you settled on?” He read the label, distracting her from her thoughts.
“I didn’t think I was a bombshell blonde, and ruby red would mean twinning with my brother,” she reasoned, looking at the collection on the bathroom floor. Red was a nightmare to maintain and wouldn’t help with the ‘lying low’ concept.
“I wanted something different, and when I leave the house, the paps won’t be able to spot me so easily.”
She’d tried to walk to the shop around the corner from the house a couple of days ago for some sanitary pads and ice cream and ended up on Beefeed’s website in an unflattering shot. She hadn’t even got home before she was tagged in a repost titled ‘Bereaved girlfriend of rockstar lets herself go’.
“I thought you were out with the others.” She tried to move the conversation on. “Thought you had an interview photoshoot for the concert once you were done at the studio?” She’d heard Anita give them their schedule the previous night. They’d wanted to take some time off to grieve, but wondered if it was better for them to work a little since they weren’t used to sitting still.
“We finished up early, and I only just got back and came looking for you. August and Nick have gone out for food. Text them if you want something back from the Chinese.”
groaned. “Must be nice to sit in a restaurant and eat without being hounded or threatened. I wish I could’ve gone with them,” she said. She hadn’t got out of her sweatpants in days.
“No, you don’t,” Axel sighed. “They aren’t in the best mood after the studio session, being in there only reminds us of what’s missing. I came home to take Bart for a walk. When he didn’t come, I figured he was with you.”
“I don’t think you’re going to get him to go. He’s keeping me company in case the box dye gods attack,” she said, having been unable to get him to budge. “I was worried about how the fumes affect dogs, but he barked incessantly when I closed the door on him.”
“He’s never been a fan of closed doors.” Axel rubbed Bart’s head as the dog looked between them like he knew they were talking about him.
“I’m getting cold. Can you please leave so I can finish?” said, forgetting she was only in her sweatpants and a triangle bralette that left little to the imagination. His gaze lingered on her like he wanted to do much more than help.
Her alarm went off, breaking the tension.
“Let me help, and you’ll be done faster,” he offered, getting off the counter. “In fact, let me help you, and I’ll take you to dinner.”
“Dinner? Me and you? Do you want Anita to murder us?” She frowned, removing the bag from her head and putting her sketchbook by the sink so it didn’t get wet.
“Fair point,” he mused. “But Anita doesn’t need to know, and you want out of the house. With your new hair, no one will notice.”
“They’ll notice you,” she said. It was hard to miss him.
“You’d be amazed by my disguises,” he said. “The decision is yours. Let me help, and you get a dinner out of the house.”
She hesitated, thinking how nice it would be to get away.
“Okay, I accept.”
“Good,” he said, trailing his hand down her arm, making her shiver. “Now bend over.”
“Axel! Really?” she snapped.
“Bend over the tub, so I can wash the dye out of your hair,” he clarified, and she wanted to wipe his smug smile off his face. She rolled her eyes; he was enjoying this too much.
She knelt on the floor and leaned her head over the tub, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.
“How’s the temperature?” he asked, threading his fingers through her hair. She wondered if he was trying to fill in the silence.
“Perfect,” she sighed, not sure if she was talking about the water temperature or his gentle touch.
“You’ve still got some purple spots,” he told her, breaking her enjoyment of the moment.
“I couldn’t really reach the back,” she groaned.
“It’s not noticeable, nobody else is going to be getting this close to you.”
The spots didn’t matter; she was too distracted by his fingers in her hair. She’d forgotten how nice it was to be taken care of. She was glad the water dripping down her face concealed her tears.
“What’d you do to your fingers?” he asked, noticing her hands gripping the tub.
“Just a few scratches,” she said flatly, not wanting to tell him about the package or the message within. She didn’t want to lie, and technically she was scratched. She wanted to wait awhile, find out when the fan mail was delivered, before she said anything. No point in worrying everyone if it was nothing.
“I think that’s the dye out,” he said, placing a warm towel on her shoulders. She wrapped it around herself, embarrassed to be wearing so little.
“Thank you,” she said, relieved that she hadn’t had to do it herself. Her hand wasn’t aching any longer, thanks to the rest. She was still figuring out her limits, but dyeing and doodling had been a bit much for one day.
In the mirror behind Axel, she glimpsed the deep brown hair she hadn’t seen since she was a teenager. It made her feel like a different person.
“What’s the next step?” Axel asked.
“I just need a break, my neck is killing me.”
“While we wait, can I see what you were doodling?” he asked, taking a seat beside her against the bathtub.
She turned the notebook towards him to reveal a sketch of a thin paintbrush decorated with delicate flowers.
“Is that a tattoo?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged.
“I didn’t know you like to design tattoos.”
“I was just playing around. Trying to work on my control since my hand shakes when I try and do fine details. It’s not like I’d ever get one.” She didn’t like how defensive she sounded. So what if she liked tattoos? She hoped he won’t notice that she’d taken inspiration from the one on his ribs. She’d seen it in the garden when he was with Bart watering the flowers. Two drumsticks crossed with a band of flowers, except she’d used paintbrushes for her own version.
“Why never?”
Bart snuggled between them, like he was jealous.
“Maybe one day, but Cillian never liked them.”
He frowned. “I was there when he got his sleeve.”
“He didn’t like them on girls.” She couldn’t meet his eye as she said it.
He nodded slowly.
“Why would that stop you? Your body, your choice.”
“It wasn’t like I wanted one desperately, so what was the point in arguing over something that I wasn’t set on? Relationships take compromise.”
It only took his death to realise how much she had compromised.
“I don’t think it’s considered compromise when he got all the tattoos he wanted but didn’t give you the same freedom.”
“You’ve never been in a long-term relationship.” She didn’t want to argue with him, and it wasn’t him she was mad at. She was mad at herself for letting Cillian treat her as less than him for so long.
“Maybe not, but I sure as hell would never tell a woman I loved what she could or couldn’t do with her body.”
“If I tell you that yes, I want a tattoo, will you drop the subject?” she said, wanting to end the conversation about what he did or didn’t do with women’s bodies. He’d done enough to hers to make her question her sanity.
They never talked about their intimate moments. They carried on as though nothing had happened, and that was how she liked it, because right now she couldn’t handle complicated, and he was a red flag with ‘complicated’ written in bold.
“The artist who does mine is currently doing a residence in Italy. She’s usually booked out a few months in advance, but I’m sure she’d be delighted to work with you on it,” Axel offered eagerly. “She loves collaborating with other artists.”
“Just because I doodled a tattoo doesn’t mean I want to run off to Italy to get one,” she said, though given the mail she’d received today, getting out of town felt like a good idea. She thought about Rowena at the villa, and packing up Cillian’s belongings. She might be able to kill two birds with one stone.
“Why not?” Axel asked.
“One, a tattoo is a big decision. Two, Anita told us not to get into any trouble, and us boarding a plane together going to Italy, one of the most romantic destinations in the world, isn’t going to help put out any fires.”
She stated the obvious, but he didn’t seem convinced.
“Is that an invitation?” he said with a smirk.
She was about to argue when he waved it off. “It was only a thought, a chance to get out of the country, away from the press and the fans. Breathe in some of that ocean air and take some time to yourself. Anita did tell you to lie low, and leaving the country is the best way to do that.”
chewed her lip. A little weekend trip might be just what she needed, and she could sort out the villa while they were there. And it might give her the inspiration she needed to start fresh.
“I did promise you dinner,” he added, nudging her a little. “It would be a lot easier to have dinner in a beautiful Italian restaurant where no one would even suspect to find us.”
The thought of being able to walk around with little notice felt too good to pass up. If the person who’d sent the package was looking for her, maybe some time away would be safest for everyone.
“Okay! I’ll go. I’ve got to go to the villa anyway—the housekeeper Cillian hired wants me to go through our things,” she explained, or more like barked, because Bart’s ears perked up in alarm.
Axel beamed, and she’d never seen him smile like that. He turned a little so she couldn’t see his expression, but she could sense how happy he was.
“I’ll make a call. When do you want to leave?”
“As soon as possible.”
He hesitated for a moment before reaching into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “Pack a bag, and I’ll call us a car.”
“You’re seriously coming with me?” she asked.
“I can’t let you have dinner alone in Italy. Besides, I keep my promises.”
“What will we tell the others?” she asked, wondering how they could explain going away alone to a romantic destination.
“Like you said, you need to sort out the villa and I’m going to help you. My schedule is the freest since August is needed in production and Nick has to work out his vocals. They can’t argue,” Axel reasoned, and his plan sounded like it might just work.
“And Anita?”
“Doesn’t need to know,” he said firmly.
“Agreed.”
Axel started heading for the door, and she reached out to stop him.
“Wait!” She chuckled at his eagerness. He probably felt as housebound as she did. “You haven’t finished washing my hair,” she pointed out.
He paused, and nearly tripped over Bart.
“Right, bend over.” The command hung in the air, and she couldn’t contain her laughter as Bart looked between them. She’d never seen Axel blush before.
“Again? Really? Get your mind out of the gutter,” he said, as she handed him the shampoo and conditioner.
She could barely keep still at the excitement of getting out of the house.