Page 141 of Fight

“Fucking right you are,” Auggie grunts with a grin as we walk to her bedroom.

“I have clippers in the bathroom,” Cere says. “We need to get a chair…”

“I’ll get one from the kitchen, Sweetheart,” Auggie says, ducking out of the room.

“I always wondered who was cutting his hair when I didn’t,” Cerenity says lightly as she pulls a spray bottle, comb, and clippers from the bathroom.

“I always knew if I wasn’t doing it that you were,” I confess. “Augustine is too particular to let just anyone do his hair.”

“You got that right,” Auggie rumbles as he brings in the chair to set it in front of Cere. There’s something about his deep voice that makes me sigh happily. It flows through my body, reminding me of the boy I met at fifteen.

His voice is much deeper than it was when we first met, though.

“Do you remember when my mom took me to the barber when I was sixteen?” he asks.

Snorting as I push him into the chair, then bend down to kiss him soundly.

“How could I forget? You came to school the next day practically bald,” I remember. “The guy who usually would do your hair was training someone new, and the kid dropped the clippers on your head.”

Cerenity makes a strangled sound between a laugh and a cough before snorting.

“Please don’t die,” I tease her, pulling her closer to me to give her a hug. “The barber’s apprentice had already fucked up his hair since it cut an entire section to the scalp, so he had to shave his head.”

“It took forever to grow back,” Augustine groans. “I’ll never have anyone else cut my hair.”

Releasing Cerenity, I fill the spray bottle as I roll my eyes and close the top up. Spritzing Auggie’s hair, I shake my head. “You’re so dramatic. It was a freak accident, but since I like only Cere or me cutting your hair, I won’t give you too much shit for it.”

Snorting, Augustine sits still as Cere starts to cut his hair. She’s precise in her movements, lovingly touching his hair as she cuts it. Even though we haven’t spent much time together, it’s obvious how much we love him.

Hair slowly drops to the floor as we get Augustine back to normal, and when we’re done, he grins as he stands, leaning in to check it in the mirror.

“I stand by my words,” he says. “I’m never getting my hair cut by anyone else. I’m going to clean up the floor and take a shower, Cere why don’t you go baby Tommy for a bit? The old man is probably still getting over his sneezing attack. I didn’t know someone could sneeze so many times.”

Giggling, she kisses his cheek before she walks out, humming to herself.

“You really are the best alpha for our pack,” I tell him as I run my fingers through his shorter hair. “There’s grace when you make sure everyone is taken care of. I don’t know if you see it or not, but I’m here to tell you.”

Augustine’s lips part in surprise as I wink at him and walk out. It’s nice to see I can still shock him. What would be the fun in a life with Auggie if I couldn’t?

CERENITY

Friday nights always have this energy no other day seems to have. It’s the beginning of the weekend, I’m going to Club Serenity to work, and I can’t wait to have a packed house.

One of our bartenders started her heat yesterday, and her pack mates texted me late last night before they went to take care of her. We’re short staffed because no one else could come in, but Auggie and I decided we’d fill in.

“I’ve never wished I could bartend more than I do right now,” Jasper yells an hour later as he leans over the bar. “You look way too beautiful to be slinging drinks right now.”

Blowing him a kiss, I pass him a bottle of water. Gabriel is looking out at the club with wide eyes, and I don’t blame him, because there’s a lot going on right now.

Our cage dancers are dancing above everyone, my burlesque dancers changed back into club clothes after we opened to tempt people to dance, so the club is heaving with writhing bodies.

Fuck yes.

Moving easily behind the bar, I open tabs, serve drinks, and take cash with a smile. My dark wash jeans are molded to my ass, mesh top over my black crop-top is helping the tips I’m dropping into the cup for my bartenders, and my combat boots finish off the outfit with flair.

I’m hot from the steady pace, making me glad I braided my hair in two French braids.

My switchblade in my back pocket reminds me I’m not adorable or cute, and the throwing knives hiding in my hair reminds me that my alphas love me for it. I’m just a slightly overheated badass at the moment.

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