Page 112 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

“Why don’t you just slap your dick out between us for fuck’s sake,” Jamie muttered.

“You don’t get to see his dick.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could catch them.

Oz didn’t say a word, just toyed with his arrowhead necklace before he whistled his way out of the room.

“Get in the chair,” I growled at Jamie.

“Do I have to have as much hairspray as he had?”

“More.”

“Dammit.” She plopped on the seat. “The price for art. Do I get that cape thingie?”

I sighed and pulled it out of the pocket of the back of the chair. “Yes.”

She wiggled her butt in the chair to make herself more comfortable. “Make me Pat Benatar.”

“You know that doesn’t match the Whitesnake look.”

She shrugged. “I know, but she’s more badass.”

I lifted a hank of her long, unbendable hair. “So we’re going to cut off your hair to your ears?”

“Bite your tongue!” She grabbed her hair out of my hand and tried to get out of the chair.

I gripped her shoulders and pulled her back into the seat. “Don’t worry. You trust me right?”

“I don’t trust anyone but Lindz.”

I met her gaze in the mirror. I didn’t want to live that kind of life. Even if we were semi-joking. “Don’t worry. I’d never cut your hair. It’s almost as pretty as Oz’s.”

Jamie blew raspberries at me. “Typical. Men always get the good hair without trying.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” I sighed. “But I’m still going to make you look badass.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

I’d do my damn job because I was a professional. And I wouldn’t think about the hotness who just left making me want him even more.

Just a few more days and I could get him out of my system.

Probably.

Twenty-One

I wrapped up the last bag of clippings. The entire band ended up finding a way to get themselves looking like 80’s rejects. Even Zane ended up with a Bruce Springsteen red rag sticking out of his back jeans pocket a la Born in the USA era.

I’d managed to wrangle a picture and video of all of them for their Instagram and TikTok accounts. It had become a social media coup according to their fan club president who sent me a private message on Instagram.

I was pretty sure her name was Bailey. The only thing she’d complained about was that we didn’t post it early enough so the fans could dress up too.

The internet was weird.

But if this was going to be a bit of my legacy with the band, then I really couldn’t complain.

I’d have to talk to Lila about finding a replacement for me. Luckily after the New York City show they had a bit of a break. Only four weeks, but it was enough to give Noah time to vet someone.

I smiled as I bagged up the trash. The crowd was losing their mind tonight. Warning Sign had a good show as well. I could feel the lack of tension in the hallways. It was amazing how easily I’d learned the ebb and flow of life on the road.

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