Page 46 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

Before they got to that point, he had to be in a position to keep his word. His burdens couldn’t get in the way when she needed him, when her insecurities felt too daunting, or simply when she needed to laugh if the world got too grey. She shouldn’t settle for anything less.

“You can sit up now,” he instructed, breaking their trance as he helped her straighten out on the stool and wrapped a towel around her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she said, cheeks flushed crimson.

He turned away and grabbed the hair dryer. “Almost ready to reveal the final result. I won’t keep you waiting much longer.”

“Finally.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I’m a little nervous. It’s such a big change.”

He chuckled. “I can always dye it back if you want, but let’s see how you like it first.”

Minutes later, her locks were blow-dried with a healthy sheen—and very purple. Ivory no longer needed a pointed hat to look like a magical witch. For the reveal, he had her close her eyes and stand with her back to the bathroom mirror as he got a smaller one and placed it in her hands.

He paused, admiring the trust she placed in him and the subtle way she tried not to bite her lip or the tiny movements under her closed lids as she fought the urge to peek. Would there ever be a moment when he didn’t want to see her face?

“All right, open,” he said.

Her eyes lit up, and she let out a little gasp, twirling to take in the new amethyst shade tumbling down her shoulders. “This is…amazing.” She swirled left and right, running her fingers through her hair, then turned to face him. “I love it.”

Unable to control himself, he smiled. That lightness from earlier magnified tenfold. “I’m glad you like it so much, and you do look rather amazing.” Then he remembered one last detail. “Would you mind if I add something else?”

Her eyes widened like a little kitten being brought a new toy. “Sure, go ahead.”

Nudging past her, he opened the cabinet to the right of the sink and brought out the ribbon his sister sent home with him. It looked a few shades lighter than the dye but matched the hue and complimented her eyes.

“Turn around,” he instructed.

She did as she was told, letting him gather a few strands from her face and braid them at the back, weaving in the ribbon as he went and tying it off with a neat bow.

The few perks of dealing with a sister when they were young were that Riley taught him to style hair—or rather forced him to help do hers—even before he started work at the salon. Of course, she experimented more than once on his own locks, but after she reached for the scissors the first time, he quickly learned to avoid such requests.

“Ah,” he breathed, marveling at his work. “That’s it. Here, take a look.” He stepped out of the way so she could inspect it properly.

Ivory remained quiet as she tilted the mirror this way and that, her lips parted in what he hoped was a pleased expression. “It’s perfect,” she said at last.

Damn. How could she make him feel this proud over something so simple?

“It’s so soft, too,” she continued. “How did you do it?”

“Cold winter air and dry indoor heat will damage your hair. The conditioner I used helps and hopefully can prevent most of that.” He walked into the kitchen to get the bottle. “The main ingredient is avocado oil. I use it myself.”

“Oh,” she said, following and taking the bottle to read the label. “Is your hair as soft as it looks?”

“Well, it should be,” he replied, rubbing the stubble that had appeared over the last few days. Past time to take a razor to it.

Before he could catch on to her intentions, her fingers brushed up against his as she stroked the side of his jaw. Fuck. He forced himself to breathe normally—her touch felt feather-light, but it might as well have been an electrical shock with how it sparked through him.

“Ah,” she hummed. “It must work if your stubble is that soft. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

He turned away to resist the urge to put those hands of hers to better use. Show her that not every part of him was so soft. Clearing his mind, he started bunching up the plastic and cleaning up the rest of the supplies. “Take the rest with you. I can always get another bottle.”

“Well, I—” She cut herself off and sighed. “Thank you again. I’ll just have to bake you more cookies.”

“I can’t say no to that.” He tossed everything except the brushes into the trash. After rinsing them, he turned to bring them to his desk, where he’d hopefully remember to take them back to the salon.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked when he saw her hovering by the door.

“Oh.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “No, you don’t have to go out of your way. Nia already agreed to drive me to the dorms.”

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