Page 67 of Half Notes and Highlights
“I know. It’s so cool mingling with everyone.” Ethan wrapped an arm around Tyler. “This is my boyfriend, Tyler Kennedy the famous hairstylist and makeup artist. He has a trailer here if youor your bandmates need anything this weekend.” Then he leaned over and whispered the guy’s true identity in Tyler’s ear.
Tyler, who had his mouth full, toasted a greeting to Tommy with the giant hot dog he was devouring.
“I’d love to get my hair done before the show tomorrow,” Tommy said. “I’ll swing by and make an appointment.” He turned to Ethan. “Did you hear someone passed out on stage yesterday from the heat? It’s bad this year.”
“No. I didn’t hear about it. Are they OK?” Ethan asked, alarmed.
“Yeah. He just needed some water and to cool off. I don’t remember it ever being this hot.”
“I know. I asked for the extra shade and tables. Me and Tyler walked around yesterday and couldn’t escape the sun.”
“Tommy slowly looked to his left and then to his right. “I better go. I don’t want to bring attention to us and blow our cover. Great to meet you.” He shook Ethan’s hand. “You too,” he told Tyler. “Enjoy that wiener.”
“Likewise,” Tyler said between bites. “Next time, I’ll try not to have my mouth full, but I’m not making any promises.”
Tommy laughed as he walked away turning back and waving.
Ethan and Tyler walked around the festival for a while longer, then headed back to the RV. When they got there, the guys were sitting in a circle around a cooler full of beer.
“Who let these two stragglers in?” Harris joked, knowing it was Ethan and Tyler, and a rumble of laughter ensued.
“Look at Tyler!” Marshall said. “I’d never would have recognized you. Whose clothes are you wearing?”
“Ethan’s.” Tyler gathered the extra material from around his hips and pulled it out to the sides. “I could fit another person in here.”
“They’re ridiculous,” Wolf commented, flatly. “You wear the weirdest shit. And that mustache. It makes you look like a porn star from the ‘70s.”
Ethan bristled at the remarks and gritted his teeth. He loved Wolf, and his heart was filled with compassion for the guy, especially now, but Wolf couldn’t control his mouth. It wasn’t exactly the things he said. It was the way he said them. With a knot tightening his stomach, Ethan’s gaze shifted to Tyler. To his surprise, Tyler burst out laughing.
“I know! Right?” Tyler touched the hair on his upper lip. “It’s kinda itchy, but it’s really hot to kiss with all this facial hair.” He tugged on Ethan’s T-shirt and pulled him in for a dramatic kiss filled with tongue and passion and a hand through Ethan’s wig.
Ethan could hear Wolf’s huff of breath through the rising heat in his body, but he was lost in that hot-as-fuck kiss. When Tyler finally pulled away, Ethan gave him a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you crooked smile and shake of his head because he knew the kiss was meant to get under Wolf’s skin. And it did. He wondered if it would ever stop between the two or if this was his life now—stuck in the middle of a never-ending feud between a guy he loved to pieces who’s been by his side for most of his life, and the guy he was madly in love with and wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tyler already finished several early appointments today, including Tommy Blade, the musician he met at the festival yesterday. He would have been done, but he was stuck in his trailer waiting on a last-minute addition. Tapping a hairbrush on his thigh, he scrolled through the appointment app on his phone to confirm the time. Yep. The guy was 10 minutes late. He huffed out his frustration so hard he blew the hair out of his face. He wished clients would understand that if one person was late, it created a domino effect. Normally, he wouldn’t be so uptight about it, but there was no time to spare today because Wolf Pack was playing early tonight, and he needed to do blowouts on Ethan and Harris, and Marshall finally agreed to semi-permanent hair color. None of that would take too long, but they were on a timeline, plus, he needed to get ready for the show.
As he waited, he tidied up the counter, fixing his spray bottles so they were neatly aligned, and lit a few fresh candles. Finally, a knock on the door indicated his client’s arrival. It’s about fucking time.
“Come in. Door’s open, and I’m ready to make you more beautiful!” He made sure he used his most friendly singsong voice because it was only 15 minutes and shit happens.
Tyler flinched when Wolf walked in. “What are you doing here? I’m expecting a client.”
“That would be me.”
Tyler shook his head and scrolled through his phone. “No. My appointment is with Scott McCall.” He dropped his arm and huffed. He couldn’t believe he didn’t recognize the name sooner. “Teen Wolf? Really? You couldn’t be more original? Why’d youuse an alias? I wouldn’t have turned you away, Wolf. I’m happy to do your hair.” He hoped his tone conveyed his sincerity, because no matter their differences, he was a professional and would love the opportunity to show off his skills.
“I don’t want you to do my hair.”
“Well then why are you here?”
“I came here to duke it out. I’m tired of the snide remarks. We’re going to settle this rife between us once and for all. Here and now. Just you and me.”
Nerves and apprehension sent a weird feeling into Tyler’s chest, and he slowly started walking backwards to put distance between them. But he only got two feet before he backed into the counter in front of the mirror with nowhere else to go. He wasn’t skilled in self-defense and never had a physical altercation in his life, but his ex—the guy he moved to California to forget—was a blackbelt and taught him a thing or two. It didn’t matter, because it all went out the window as fear crept up his spine, and he frantically searched for anything within reach that he could use as a weapon.
Holding a lit candle in front of him, he directed a can of aerosol hairspray at it, ready to press the spray button. “I’m a lover, not a fighter, but if you take one step toward me with the intent to do me bodily harm, I’ll Gene Simmons your ass!”
Wolf’s eyes widened, and he leaned back holding his hands up in front of him. “Whoa. I didn’t mean it literally when I said duke it out. I meanttalkit out. I’m not a violent person.”
