Page 24 of Open Road (Tattooed Hearts Duet 3)

“I love you, Lemon Drop.” He kissed my cheek, setting me back on the ground as he rushed off to the coordinators. A few other hairstylists looked at us curiously, but no one moved to talk to us.

“Geez. I never knew hairstylists were so stuck up,” I whispered to Zane.

“Yeah, Simon told me about some of the troubles he’s faced being a bisexual stylist in the south and how it’s very elitist. If you don’t work for one of the big salons, then you’re not worth it.”

“That’s dumb,” I huffed, crossing my arms.

Simon returned a few minutes later, and I sent Zane to get my sketchbook from Slade and fill him in on what was happening. Simon had me in his chair, lifting my hair muttering, as he jotted some things into a notebook on what he wanted to do.

“Anything?” he asked, and I nodded, trusting Simon.

“Who do I need to punch?” Slade asked a few minutes later, my sketchbook in his hand. He glared at the people closest to us, making his dissatisfaction known.

“No one. It’s fine. Lennox saved the day.” Simon lifted my hair and let it fall, ignoring the thunderous man in front of him.

“It’s better this way, Tatzilla. I get a new look and Simon will get noticed. Now, can I have my book before you break it?”

His eyes dropped to mine, and he took a deep breath before handing me my stuff. “Thane’s going to man the booth. I’m going to watch you two.”

Rolling my eyes, I knew nothing we said would deter him. He felt he had to protect us, and I would never tell him how hot I thought it was. He already had a big enough ego.

The announcer came over, briefly going over the rules and what a person was rated on. Like the tattoos, it was based more on style, skill, and overall effect versus time. When she dropped her hand and yelled “go,” it was like a frenzy.

Simon whirled me around, his scissors already in his hand, and trimmed a few spots before beginning to mix the color he wanted. While he did that, I started to draw in my book. The sunflowers were different to draw, and I enjoyed the challenge. I began to add some music notes to the petals and in the dead space around them. I had a couple of different varieties to show Esther when I was done, feeling happy with the finished product.

I looked up and found Slade smiling at me. I’d gotten lost in my drawing, letting Simon move me as he needed. I turned and saw him checking the foils where he’d separated my hair. “It’s ready to rinse,” he said, his voice serious. Simon’s work voice was always something that got my engine going for some strange reason.

He helped me walk over to the shampoo station and pulled the foils out, rinsing my hair thoroughly. I zoned out as he washed it, enjoying the head massage. Simon got to work as soon as my butt hit the chair, adding framing layers around my face. I found Slade looking through my sketchbook.

“What do you think?”

“It’s good. You should win.” He closed it, keeping it close. I wasn’t worried about competing with him. We didn’t need to with one another.

When Simon began to blow dry my hair, I blinked, not realizing he was done. He worked so efficiently when he was in the zone. There wasn’t a mirror, so I couldn’t see what it looked like. Slade kept staring, though, which made me curious.

When Simon turned me around, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I blinked a few times, not believing it was me.

“Wow, Si. I love it.” I swished the pink and green locks back and forth, loving how it moved.

“It’s what I callWatermelon Sugar,” he said, blushing.

“It’s amazing.” I preened up at him, loving how much he brought my hair to life so effortlessly.

“I just need to take a picture,” the official from SIT said, standing in front of Simon’s booth. She looked impressed, making me hope that Simon would be taken seriously now.

“Okay, you’re good to go. We’ll announce the winners after the tattoo competition.”

The guys and I returned to the booth, finding that Zane had gotten us some food. Esther came by, selecting her design, and I got it ready on the transfer paper while we ate.

“Alright, ladies and gents, it’s time for our tattoo round.”

At the sound of go, tattoo guns began to buzz, filling the space. “I’m going to listen to music. But let me know if you’re not okay.”

Esther nodded, leaning back. I was putting the sunflowers on her upper thigh. It was between the size of my palm and hand. It would be close to the three-hour mark with the coloring and shading I’d added.

The music covered the noise, and I fell into my happy place as I began to outline the sunflowers. It was only when my hand started to cramp, and my neck ached that I realized how focused I’d been. I glanced up, finding that Esther was reading a book. The cover looked cool, and I made a mental note to ask her who the author was. I could always use a new book to read.

Stretching my fingers and rotating my neck, I zeroed in on my design, happy with how it’d turned out. When I finished it, I sat back, the satisfaction of a job well done filling me. I pulled out my earbuds and found Esther beaming at me.

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