Page 45 of What We Broke

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“You are not shaving his hair,”Jesse says firmly.

We’re sitting in the living room now, done with dinner, the three of us talking effortlessly about everything and anything, including Zara’s firm rule that ever since she became a hairdresser, all family members, which apparently now includes me, have to have their hair cut by her.

“I didn’t say shave,” she argues. “I said cut.”

I’m quite indifferent to the idea, but even though I need a little trim, I know Jesse is fond of my curls. He often absentmindedly runs his hands through them when we’re talking or lying in bed together.

“It’s like an initiation.” Zara animatedly jumps off the couch and grabs my arm. “Come on.”

I don’t really have time to argue, so I just let her lead me to a bathroom off the hallway and close the door.

“What are we doing in here?”

“Pissing Jesse off,” she says casually, her eyes full of excitement.

“You do this a lot, don’t you?”

She nods as she strides to the cabinet and begins pulling things out of her bathroom drawers. “Usually I’m trying to recruit Raine into helping me, but that takes a lot of bribing.”

“I can be bribed,” I say.

I catch Zara rolling her eyes. “Who do you think you’re fooling? You’re a mess for that man.”

She isn’t wrong, but I also enjoy riling Jesse up just as much as the next person. He always wins, but if our first night was anything to go by, I occasionally have some pull.

“Let’s shave my hair,” I suggest.

“I wonder who he’ll kill first,” she says with a smile on her face.

As the night progressed, I began to see the layers that made up Zara. She was a mother and she was Jesse’s best friend, but she was also a twenty-six-year-old woman who chose a different path for her life and was giving herself freedom to enjoy it wherever she could.

It’s obvious she is the chaos and Jesse is the calm. They complement each other, and I’m certain their parenting and raising of Raine is exactly the same.

“I could probably suck his dick and save us both,” I joke.

Zara squeals. “That’s fucking brilliant.”

She guides me to the edge of the bathtub and sits me down. “He’s trying to be patient out there, but we’re about five seconds from him storming in here.”

“Hurry,” I urge.

She puts a cape over my clothes and then grabs the cordless hair clippers, switches them on, and lets the loud rumble of the machine echo off the walls.

Just as she presses them to my head, Jesse barges in. Certain she’s spurred on by his arrival, Zara glides the blade down the middle of my head, just as Jesse’s eyes land on me.

“Zara,” he warns.

Unperturbed, she just shrugs. “Don’t be jealous. I can do yours right after.”

Looking at me, Jesse shakes his head, watching Zara expertly shave my hair off. My curls land on the cape before they fall to the floor.

“You’re never cutting his hair again,” Jesse says, walking farther into the bathroom. “I’m going to make sure he goes somewhere else on purpose.”

There’s nothing but humor in his voice as he reaches for the clippers and pushes Zara aside. He continues to shave my head, as if he’s the one who’s been doing it all along. His touch is soft and gentle, and for some reason, that has heat racing up and down my spine.

When he tilts my head up to get a good look at me, he’s gazing down at me with a reverence I hardly deserve.

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