Chapter 21 #2
“Of course! If that's what you want, just schedule an appointment,” she replied, equally enthusiastic.
“Actually, you know what? I'm just going to walk over to the salon right now and see if they can do it immediately,” I said, excitement bubbling within me.
“What's the hurry?” my mom asked, a little confused.
“I'm just feeling it! I want to get it done as soon as possible,” I said, glancing at her for approval.
“Alright, go for it! Just don't cut it too short; your hair is beautiful,” she smiled.
I hurried back upstairs to grab my bag and was quickly out the door.
That was how my spontaneous desire led me to the hair salon in less than thirty minutes.
I went for it, cutting off about eight inches—it felt like so much.
Watching my hair fall to the floor was strange, but I felt a rush of excitement.
I loved the new look; it made me feel more mature.
I stepped outside, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over me. A smile crept across my face, and for a moment, it felt like it was about me.
“Need a ride?” A car pulled up, and I leaned forward to see who it was: Andrea.
“Oh, hey! Um… I'm fine, thanks,” I replied politely.
“I really must insist. I'm headed to your place anyway. Your mom asked me to bring along her camera and memory cards; she has some work to finish up.” He flashed a warm smile, encouraging me to hop in.
I decided to accept his offer. “Did you get a new haircut? It looks great on you,” he remarked as I settled into the passenger seat.
“I just wanted a change; it had been a while since my last trim,” I answered softly, my eyes instinctively searching for the scar on his hand, as if it might reveal a new clue, but nothing.
“Your mom's going back to work next week,” he said after a moment of silence.
“Yeah, I figured. She's been getting restless at home,” I replied, and we both laughed lightly. After some more casual conversation, we arrived at my house. Andrea stepped inside briefly, delivering everything my mom had requested, before taking his leave.
I made myself a cup of tea and retreated to my room, leaving my mom in disbelief at my new haircut, which was much shorter than she expected.
As I pushed the door open, everything I knew slipped away. I found myself back in the past, and this moment was no longer about me; it was about him.
Zane stood beside my bed, clutching the book I had been reading, dressed in black skinny jeans, dark gray boots, a white T-shirt, and his signature black leather jacket.
His hair had grown longer, reflecting vibrant red hues in the sunlight.
I paused, captivated as if I were admiring a masterful painting in an art gallery. I quickly shut the door behind me.
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I whispered, careful not to alert my mom downstairs. I edged closer, placing my tea on the nightstand.
“Happy New Year,” Zane grinned, but something felt different about him.
“You still haven't answered my questions,” I pressed, the racing beat of my heart pulsating under my fingertips, as if it might leap out from my chest.
“The terrace door was open,” he replied nonchalantly.
“My mom is downstairs; she could have seen or heard you!”
“But she didn't.” His gaze was fixed on mine, the bed creating a barrier between us, thick with anticipation.
“You cut your hair,” he noted.
“I did.”
“It looks good.”
“Thanks.”
Zane began to roam around my room, inspecting it as he had last time, still holding my book. “Do you read?” I ventured.
“Actually, I do, though not as much as I'd like. Writing's more my thing,” he said with a teasing smile.
“Writing? Please tell me you don't keep a diary,” I laughed.
“Actually, I do,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“What? Isn't that a girl thing?” I asked, genuinely taken aback.
“It's not just for girls if I have something to say. And believe me, I do,” Zane said, his eyes piercing through me. I could feel my knees weaken, and I had to shift, sit, or do something to hide my growing fluster.
“It's been a while,” I started, but he cut me off.
“I know, and I'm sorry. I was in London for the holidays with my mom. Just got back this morning,” he said, rooted in place. I swallowed hard. “I just saw your message today. Sorry I missed it,” he said. I felt a wave of warmth wash over me.
“How were your holidays?” he added.
“Good, mostly just spent time at home with my family.” My voice trembled, betraying my nerves. He continued to move around, equally restless.
“I came here because I wanted to see you,” he said, pausing to let his words sink in.
I felt myself floating, my face flushed with emotion.
“I… I missed you. I missed your smile, your sky-blue eyes, and the way you fidget with your fingers,” he confessed, glancing down at my hands as I was doing just that.
His smile deepened; his words had breathed new life into the idea of us.
He stepped closer, eyes locked on my lips. I held my breath, ready for a kiss, unwilling to break the moment. But he hesitated, just inches away, shifting his gaze back to mine. I could sense the unbearable tension between us, but he turned and continued to walk away.
That haircut had given me a surge of confidence, and I couldn't hold back any longer. I needed to express how I felt.
“What's wrong?” I demanded, intrigued. “You're not touching me or kissing me; I thought that was what guys usually do,” I added, hoping to make my point clearer.
“Well, I'm not like most guys,” he retorted with a smirk.
“True, but you're still a guy,” I countered.
“So, do you think I should just leap at you right away?” Zane teased.
My eyes widened at the thought, a flush of heat creeping up my cheeks.
“No, it just feels strange. You're kind of charming me without any physical contact, and then what?” I paused, hoping he understood my implication.
“That's a bit strange too,” he chuckled. “I thought you were the type of girl who plays hard to get, yet here you are, seemingly eager to jump into bed with me without really knowing me.”
I was taken aback, my jaw dropping in shock at his words. Embarrassment flooded me. Did I really come off as overly eager?
“Please don't get me wrong,” Zane said, mischief dancing in his eyes as he ran his thumb over his lower lip. “I'm desperately trying not to touch you because once I do, I'm not sure if I can stop. And I couldn't tell if that's what you want. Yet.”
A surge of emotion erupted within me, causing my legs to quiver uncontrollably. I instinctively crossed them, trying to contain the heat radiating from my core. My heart raced in a chaotic rhythm, and I found myself gripping onto something solid to maintain my composure.
What on earth was happening to me? Could mere words ignite such a powerful response? I swallowed hard, battling every fiber of my being to stay still.
A new year had dawned, and in my youthful naivety, I believed I could reshape myself—change, improve, and evolve. I was mistaken. This year was destined to revolve entirely around Zane.
The thought of him enveloped my mind completely, and every word he spoke took root deep within me. My longing for him overshadowed any sense of pride I held. I found myself utterly reliant on him and his whims, willing to acquiesce to whatever he proposed.
Zane flashed a smirk and stepped closer, his hand moving slowly to my face, his thumb grazing my cheekbone with a gentle touch.
“Now, listen up, dummy, there's something I need to ask you,” he said, leaning in even further. I could nearly taste his breath mingling with mine, and I struggled to swallow, the anticipation almost unbearable. I was desperate to hear him speak.
“What is it?” I blurted out, my impatience getting the better of me. He locked eyes with me, as if this moment was both a final farewell and a new beginning. The silence stretched on, pushing my nerves to their limit. I couldn't take it anymore. Please…
“Would you date me?” Zane asked, hesitating as if he feared I might decline.
“Yes, I wou—“ I didn't finish my sentence as the last word was consumed by the lust he pushed against my lips.
Zane finally kissed me.