The Rockstar's Redemption

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Okay" I thunder my fingers in front of me.

I'm behind Reid, both of us in front of the bathroom mirror. It's worth noting that I'm standing on a very small chair so I can reach his height.

"Are you sure you've seen enough tutorials on YouTube?"

"Yes!" I squeal for the fifth time, "You're making me nervous."

He raises an eyebrow at me through the mirror, clearly telling me —: I'm the one who can lose my mind here, not you.

Smart ass — I say back with my gaze, narrowing my eyes at him.

He snorts.

I run my fingers absentmindedly through his damp hair, thinking where to start. However, I lose myself there, in the softness of his auburn locks. Through the mirror, I watch as Reid closes his eyes and leans into my touch, a serene countenance on his face. It's as if he's cast a spell on me, as I stand there, staring at that soft expression, detailing every minute feature of his face. Then his eyes open, meeting mine in our reflections and my heart stops for long seconds.

I see how little by little, the more we look at each other, his pupils dilate and his relaxed expression changes to an almost hungry one. My breath begins to come out sharply and Reid's gaze becomes more penetrating. When my fingers brush against his temple and he turns his face so that his lips press almost imperceptibly against the inside of my wrist, I flinch and push my touch away, startled at how good it feels.

I clear my throat, stretch for the machine that's already plugged in and turn it on. Its shrill sound fills the bathroom, making me nervous. Reid meets my eyes again through the mirror, warning me to do this right or else I'm dead Willa. Just from that look alone, I'm already considering the idea of leaving half his head bald.

"What's on your mind?" He asks, the husky sound of his voice sending another shiver through my skin.

"Me?" I ask, laughing innocently. "Nothing."

"Of course, that's why you're looking at me in that creepy way."

I suspect he knows that my mind was filled with images of him sporting a bald head made by me. But since he has no right to invade my thoughts and, moreover, to guess them, I tap his shoulder, scolding him.

"Shut up, you keep getting on my nerves."

He shuts up, thank you!

And I start.

Remembering in detail every single thing I saw on the internet, I trimmed his hair, leaving it a little lower on his sides than on the top of his head. Not everything turned out so great, two slight cuts on his neck and ear almost made me infarct, but beyond that, I think I did well.

Except for... oops, I left him completely full of hair all over the place.

I let out a loud laugh, finding the image amusing.

Reid watches me intently through the mirror, as he did all the time. Amazingly, he never flinched or showed nerves. He just stood there, in my hands.

Does that mean he trusts me?

The question brings his earlier words to my mind, how he declared that Katarina is the only one he trusts. Immediately, my laughter stops, dulling my mood, because I can't develop feelings for this man. Reid is so full of mysteries, I suspect he carries on his shoulders a darkness that could swallow me whole. The last thing I need in my life is to have feelings for him, I know it would be inevitable heartbreak.

My breathing stops as Reid's eyes catch me and it seems as if he knows what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling, what's hurting me. It's unnerving and intimidating at the same time how I can't hide anything from him. I look away when I feel it's enough, when I can't stand his eyes anymore.

I reach down, open one of the bathroom cabinets and pull out a brush with which I apply my makeup. I lift the improvised tablecloth I put around him and then clean with the brush the hairs left on his neck. When he is clean, I ask him: "Turn around."

He does so, leaving us exactly facing each other and at the same height, so close. His breath washes over my face, ravaging my belly, turning my hands shaky. I almost beg him to pull away, but I don't. Not when his eyes have me trapped there, giving me no escape. I even stop breathing for an instant. Reid Colleman is beautiful, but it's not just his physique that triggers these reactions in me. No, it's something else that I still can't find a name for.

I've never felt that with anyone, not even Jason.

I clear my throat and snap out of my stupor.

"Close your eyes, rock star."

He does as I ask, allowing me to wipe the little hairs that are on his face. And I want to walk away as soon as my job is done, but I can't. I just stand there, staring at him in rapt attention. I want to reach out and touch his cheek, caress him. I want to relax the constant wrinkle that rests in the middle of his eyebrows. I want him to smile at me for the first time so I can sink my finger into that dimple I suspect is forming on his cheek. I want...

My soul drops to my feet when his eyes open, uncovering my gaze on him.

I quickly take a step away, lowering myself from the chair, embarrassed.

"You're ready" I murmur with my head down, piling everything in my hands to find its place.

I come out of the bathroom, needing more space between us. With him so close I feel all-consuming, even myself. When I have nothing left in my hands and have put everything in its place, Reid comes out. All I have left to do is clean the bathroom, so that's where I head when his voice calls out to me.

"Blue?"

I stop abruptly and look at him, waiting for him to speak.

"Yes?"

His eyes detail my face slowly, causing me to blush. My pulse races and I want to run and hide from him, from what he makes me feel just by looking at me. I'm tired of him making me feel so much, I'm tired of communicating with him more than I have with anyone and, worst of all, without the need for words. And I'm tired of the uncertainty and mystery that surrounds him, making me feel like I don't know what the hell I'm doing helping him.

"Do I look like Reid Colleman?" His simple question makes me smile a little, as I think it's the most normal thing that's come out of his mouth in a long time.

"You look better than Reid Colleman."

I close my eyes in dismay as I feel the heat rise in my face, blushing at the words that without permission came out of my mouth.

Stop, Willa, stop!

Think before you speak, don't be embarrassed!

But my words are true. He doesn't look like Reid Colleman, the rock star. He looks even better. With his beard and short hair, his mysterious air increased, but that's not all. He looks even more masculine, he looks older, he looks... hot. Something that's not good for me and my sanity. Is there a rewind button to undo some actions? Because right now, I wish I had never cut his hair. However, I regret my hateful thought. He will now be able to leave in the day, at least, while he sorts out his business, which I still have no clue about. And it is with that last thought that again an overwhelming sadness engulfs me, reminding me that he doesn't trust me. Does Katerina really know everything that's going on? She probably does. And I don't want to feel what I feel, but I can't help it.

I lower my eyes to my feet as my hands tangle together, pulling my fingers. I don't know how long I stay there, trying to clear my thoughts. All I know is that what brings me back to reality are warm fingers on my chin, making me lift my face.

A gasp escapes me, surprised by Reid's touch and by having him so close.

His thumb presses against my chin, lifting my face even higher so his eyes can inspect me. The wrinkle in the middle of his brows deepens, his brown orbs darkening with anger as he seems to notice my sadness.

"No," he whispers.

I blink and open my mouth, but find it dry. I lick my lips and try to concentrate so I can get out a simple: "What?"

His thumb goes up and almost presses into my lower lip, his eyes darkening.

"Katerina and I are just friends, Willa."

It's the first time he's said my name.

It's... I don't understand the magnitude of how he makes me feel.

"Why are you telling me this?"

He is slow to answer, as if he is thinking about his answer, as if he doesn't know the answer.

"I don't know" he squints his eyes and denies, as if struggling with inner thoughts. "You can sleep in peace now with that beautiful conscience of yours. I don't have a girlfriend, Willa, and giving up sleeping with you in my arms is not a f*****g option."

"Why?"

"Do you really need an answer to that?"

"Yes, I do."

He looks from my mouth to my eyes, twice, then leans an inch toward me and his lips half-open a little. I think he's going to answer, but he doesn't. He just stands there, staring at me for one, two, three seconds.

Then he turns and walks out, leaving me totally stunned.