Page 51 of Hot Doggin'
“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” With a smirk, I taunt, ”Just so you know, this hurts me more than it hurts you.”
He tries to kick and squirm and buck me off, but I dig my heels into his sides, and squeeze my knees into his ribs. God himself couldn’t dislodge me until I get Mac’s head shaved.
The clippers come to life in my hand, and I waste no time shaving a stripe down the center of his head. It sounds like a swarm of bees, and I can tell from the look on Mac’s face that when I’m done, when I finally let him up, he’s going to kick my ass.
Whatever, it’s worth it. I can’t look at his stupid hair one more day. He went too far using my toothbrush, and now he’s paying for it.
When the last orange strand falls away, I smile gleefully, maybe a little maniacally. “All done. No more split ends.”
He’s breathing so hard that spittle flies from his mouth and lands on my neck. “Motherfucker. You jealous, petty, bitter motherfucker. I’m about to splityourfucking ends! How could you do that?”
“It looked dumb. I did you a favor.”
“You did yourself a favor,” Mac spits angrily.
“Yeah, you looked ridiculous. I have to be seen with you. You know what they say about birds of a feather flock together?”
Mac looks affronted. “So your friendship is conditional? I have to look good to be seen with you?”
“No, I’m always your friend, I just hate your hair.”
“That’s what conditional means!”
His righteous indignation makes me laugh. “Look, I’m not gonnasplit hairswith you.”
“That’s it! You’re dead.”
Lightning quick, McCormick rolls me over and pins me beneath him, sitting on my stomach so that I can’t breathe. Herips the clippers from my hand and runs them through my dark hair, shaving my head down to the scalp. His blue eyes burn bright with revenge and when he finishes, he smiles much like I did. A little crazy, a little dangerous, and a lot satisfied.
“You know what? I think it might be an improvement.”
Asshole. I liked my hair just fine the way it was. After all, I wasn’t the one sporting a cut that fell out of style four decades ago.
Struggling to sit up, I push him off me and glare. “You happy now? We both look stupid as shit. Like we’re trying to get recruited by the skins or something.”
“I’ll tell people you gave me lice. No wait, it was fleas!”
“That’s it!” I dive at him, and we start rolling, the buzzing clippers still vibrating against the floor. Mac grunts when I land my knee on his thigh, and I cry out like a baby when he drives his heel into my gut.
“You done?” He wheezes, struggling to catch his breath.
“Are you?”
“Yeah.” I roll to my feet and help him up. “Let’s go work out some of this aggression in the gym.”
“Or,” he brushes off his pants, “we could work it off in bed.”
His waggling eyebrows and overdramatic leer are anything but sexy, considering his shaved head. It makes his bushy orange eyebrows that much more prominent. Laughter cracks from my chest like a gunshot. “You’re a fucking mess.”
He looks thrilled. “Am Iyourmess?”
My heart squeezes. “Hell yeah. All mine.”
I know we’re gonna catch shit for our hair, but I can’t avoid the guys for long. They’ll come knocking. Literally.
West is first. He laughs out loud, drawing everyone’s attention the moment we step into the classroom.
“You look like a bunch of new recruits at basic training.”
