Chapter 31
Hazy
Hazy never guessed he’d be happy about Lover going on a road trip without him, but he was ecstatic to have Livy all to himself.
She’d been job hunting for a few weeks, and she had her first interview that day.
He hated that she stressed about job hunting, house hunting, and money.
Especially the money part. He had enough for both of them.
He could set her up for life. If she let him.
She was still the same stubborn brat she’d been at five years old.
And he never wanted her to move out of his house, so the house hunting rubbed salt in the wound. Losing her was inevitable. He would soak in as much of her as he could get while she still gave him the time of day.
Hazy finished his last set of squats and re-racked the weights. His trainer congratulated him on his progress. If he hurried home, he could shower and make dinner before she got home. Then they’d have the whole evening to hang out.
He rushed through his shower and was plating pasta right as she walked through the door. She hung her purse on the hook by the door and took off her shoes. Hazy slid a plate of veggie pasta across the counter to her.
She plopped a plastic beauty supply store bag onto the counter and took a seat at her favorite bar stool.
“Ooh, what’s that?” he asked.
Livy twirled noodles around her fork as she said, “Hair dye.”
Hazy took the stool next to her and dug into his own food. “Exciting. Guess I know our plans for the evening.” He said it calmly, but hadn’t been so excited about anything in months.
He loved dyeing Livy’s hair. They’d gotten into so much trouble the first time. Her dad called her horrible names. Hazy offered to re-dye it, but Livy was stubborn, and the hair was a battle she chose. She won.
“Yeah. I talked to Jayden the other day. He reminded me of parts of myself I’d been missing for years without ever realizing. I need a change.”
“Do I get to cut it too?”
Livy took a bite. “Do you remember how?” she asked around her mouthful.
He shrugged. “YouTube is way better nowadays.”
They watched tutorials while they ate, and by the time they finished tidying the kitchen after their meal, Hazy had a whole plan.
“Which bathroom do you feel like dyeing pink today?” Livy asked.
“Mine,” he said. At least if his bathroom turned pink, nobody else would ever see it.
“You sure?”
He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Picture this.” She made an imaginary frame with her hands, grinning.
“You have a gorgeous woman in your bed. She needs to pee. Gotta avoid those UTIs, you know?” Livy winked.
“You don’t think anything of it, but when she comes back, she asks,” Livy put on a valley girl accent, “‘why the fuck is your bathroom pink?’”
“How do you come up with this stuff?” He couldn’t help his cheesy grin even as his stomach revolted at the idea of another woman in his bed.
“It could happen,” Livy said.
It could happen. Theoretically. However, nobody he slept with expected him to be faithful. They all knew they were one of many. When he decided to get back out there, nobody would question a pink-stained shower, toilet, and floor.
Hazy followed Livy to her room as she stripped out of her shirt.
“I’m not worried about it,” he said, shaking his head.
She faced him, walking backward toward her room.
Her tits jiggled with her bouncing walk.
He sucked in a breath at the sight of her.
They’d caught glimpses of each other naked many times.
Skinny-dipping as rebellious teenagers. Walking in on each other during inopportune moments.
Every time Hazy watched her stand in her underwear staring into her closet.
Every time she tried on ten different outfits before deciding what to wear.
Which had been a lot while she fast-tracked her new relationship.
Watching her undress over the past few weeks had been.
.. different. He tried not to look. She trusted him not to look.
Sometimes he failed. He didn’t know if it was that he knew every time he put her in a dress, Lover might get to take her out of it, or if he’d gone far too long without sex.
Maybe a mix of both factors. But lately the action felt like a tease.
It used to be mechanical. Quick. Casual.
Like in the locker room. These days her tops seemed to come off a little slower.
Her hips may have shimmied a little to wiggle out of her pants.
Her ass might have swayed more when she walked.
There was nothing concrete to point to. She wasn’t acting weird.
He was the weirdo. Livy would never cheat on Lover, so it had to be in his head.
Her choice in undergarments had also shifted. The practical cotton panties she favored disappeared, cheeky lace numbers that matched her bra taking their place.
Dwelling on why that might be caused bile to rise in his throat. His two best friends doing the nasty should never pop into his brain. Even if they were both beautiful and he might consider being a third if they ever asked him.
Fuck. No. Get your head out of the gutter, man.
He stared too long, and she called him out, waving a finger between her tits and face.
“Hey, eyes up here.”
He laughed it off, but his ears got hot.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
She shrugged and twisted around, putting her back to him.
“No, it’s fine. I’ve got a great rack. Thanks for finally noticing.”
Hazy’s retort got caught in his throat. He sputtered over his words, “I wasn't noticing.”
“You were totally noticing.”
They reached her bedroom door, and she paused there, facing him and leaning a hip against the doorframe. She crossed her arms under her cleavage, lifting it higher. He looked away, rubbing his neck and hoping his cheeks would cool off.
“Why are you panicking right now?” she asked.
“I’m not.”
“Okaayy. I’m going to change. Meet you in the bathroom?”
Hazy nodded, and she slipped into her room and closed the door behind her.
He set the supplies on his bathroom counter and shut the lid on the toilet for Livy to sit on.
When she joined him, she brought her hairbrush and clips, along with her hairdryer. Hazy smiled and took the pile of stuff from her.
“I do have my own hairdryer,” he said.
“Well, I didn’t know that, obviously.”
She wore a strapless black bikini. They’d learned early on in their beauty experiments that they would be ruining everything.
Towels, hard surfaces, clothing. Everything.
They never learned how to contain their mess.
Hazy ordered more of his favorite towels while she changed because he knew they would be eviscerating the ones he had.
The practicality of her outfit choice did nothing to assuage his interest in her cleavage. He boarded up that part of his brain. It would do him no good here.
Maybe he should text Tiffany.
He shook his head as if he could physically shake the thought from his mind.
Livy brushed past him and sat sideways on the toilet, facing the shower. He stood behind her and detangled her hair. Then he mixed hair dye in the little bowl Livy had bought.
She spotted the remote for the TV, flipping it to Phineas and Ferb. They’d rewatched every episode multiple times, but it had become their background show.
“I can’t believe you have a freaking TV in your bathroom.”
“Hey, don’t judge. I like a good soak.”
That gave him an idea. He enjoyed his spa days with a bath beer.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked. “I’ll give you the full experience. We’ll do your hair and you can use one of my fancy face masks. I’ll paint your toes while your dye sets.”
“What did I do to deserve such special treatment?”
“I’m in the mood to spoil someone, and you’re here.” He handed her the bowl he’d been working on and gave her instructions to stir. “Rum and Coke?” he asked.
She went to work, mixing the dye. “Sounds great.”
He mixed the quickest drink of his life, making it strong as fuck because he’d filled her belly with pasta. When she took her first sip, her face puckered.
“Good lord, were you trying to kill a horse?”
He grinned. “No. I’m getting you drunk. Duh.”
“You didn’t make one for yourself.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want me to cut your hair tipsy? Because I can make that happen.”
She held up her drink in a salute and said, “Fair point.” Then she downed a third of the glass in one go.
Hazy put on gloves and began the process of hand-painting and blending the color into the ends of her hair.
It was a finely honed skill. When they were kids, neither of them could afford the fancy hair dye often (and the internet told them to never touch the stuff sold in grocery stores).
Hazy had learned how to do an ombre effect and leave her roots their natural dark blonde so the style lasted longer.
Luckily her hair was light enough they’d never had to bleach it.
She sipped her drink and watched the show while he worked.
“This is nice,” she said.
“It is nice.”
“I missed having a friend like you.”
“You didn’t have friends before you moved to Seattle?”
Livy took a long pull from her drink. The straw rattled. “I had friends. They weren’t friends like you.”
“Friends like me.”
“Yeah. Friends who will drop their plans for the evening to dye my hair on a whim. Or watch the same show forty-two times because it makes me feel safe and happy. Friends you can run errands with. All Lance’s friends wanted to do something.
Fancy dinners we couldn’t afford, and concerts, and shopping, and movies.
Sometimes I want to hang out without having a specific plan, you know? ”
“What about Jake?”
“We lost touch after college.”
Sadness for her seeped into him. Hazy always had someone who was happy to hang out and be bored together.
Beanie, Lover, Daisy, and even Roxie fit the bill.
They were always coming around, checking on each other.
Spending evenings and days off together watching their favorite shows and playing children’s video games. “That sucks.”