Page 3 of Ivory's Ruin Romance
Long auburn hair that faded to a pastel pink at the ends—tonight it wasn’t in a bun, but fell past his shoulders like that of a medieval king. He didn’t have a costume on, nor did he need one. The black leather jacket hanging off his shoulders opened on either side, and a graphic t-shirt stretched across his chest.
His gaze finally landed on her.
He saw her. This time, he definitely saw her.
“It’s you?” Nia’s exclamation should have added a layer of intrigue to the situation, but Ivory still couldn’t figure out which way her feet wanted to move.
She became rooted to the spot, capable only of watching as the scene played out. The kitchen felt unbearably hot, yet she wished her costume consisted of more than a tank top and spandex shorts veiled in nearly transparent chiffon.
The man’s face twisted in confusion, and he closed the fridge door with a beer in hand. “Yes?”
“You’re the guy from the hair salon,” Nia clarified.
He straightened and leaned back into the counter, which only made his muscles all the more apparent, only emphasized every time his gaze shifted to her.
Such a shame he was a masterpiece. Breathing would be a lot easier if she weren’t on the verge of cardiac arrest.
“Ah, yes,” he said, recognition flashing across his face. “Can I help you?”
“My friend Ivory wants to dye her hair,” Nia blurted, then added after a pause, “Purple. She wants purple hair.”
All things considered, it was sound enough reasoning. Anyone who knew anything about her knew she loved purple. It wasn’t just her favorite color—it might as well be the shade of her aura. Everything from the sheets on her bed to her palettes of makeup to the background on her phone was some shade of purple.
And she really wouldn’t mind switching from dusty brown to purple, but perhaps under different circumstances.
“Do you need it done…right now?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
Thoughts momentarily disrupted, her tongue loosened, and she managed to come up with a reply. “N-no! I came in for a refill, that’s all.”
She took two quick steps to the counter, where several large drink coolers sat next to a diminishing stack of red cups. Pouring a cup of water for Nia, she tried to explain the odd request. “I’ve been talking about my hair for weeks now, you see, so when Nia saw you, she had to say something.”
She ended with a nervous laugh.
“I saw an opera—opportunity and took it.” Nia smiled, accepting the cup of water Ivory handed over.
This was going great. Between the two of them, they looked like a plastered mess. At least Nia might get better after hydrating, but she had a feeling her pulse would still be racing if this guy took the wise option and decided not to stick around.
“If it’s that important, I’d be glad to do it for you,” he said, taking her by surprise. “We can dye it in my apartment. That way I can waive the salon fee, providing you buy the dye.” Wrapping a palm over the beer bottle, he used one of the gold rings on his fingers and popped off the lid. It fell to the ground with a metallic clang.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. How nice of him to offer, but she’d rather risk botching the job herself. Being alone together at his place sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.
Turning to the drink coolers, she became very preoccupied with filling two cups of liquid courage. Nia’s water had disappeared, so she handed one cup to her friend and downed the other herself.
He extended the same offer to Nia, and as they conversed like regular people, she prayed to the tequila gods for an opportunity to slip away.
But Nia had other plans. Winking, she announced, “I’m gonna find Avril. You can get Adrian’s contact info, and I’ll catch ya later.”
Then she left.
Avril was their designated driver tonight, meaning Nia intended to return to the dorms. Which also left her alone, with the only other person in the kitchen—Adrian. Her mouth went dry, and they both fell silent.
“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said after an awkward pause, voice much quieter than before.
“It’s no bother,” he hummed. “I’m going out back for a smoke. Join if you want.” He didn’t wait for her response and pushed off the counter, turning to go out onto the deck.
This was her chance to walk away. But the thought of losing his presence again made her feet follow behind his, shuffling out of the stuffy frat house and into the autumn air. The cool breeze came as a welcome change. It tickled her skin and whisked around her ankles, making the hair rise on her arms.
Beta Rho boasted a large backyard, equipped with a volleyball net and hot tub around the opposite corner of the deck, where red lights and conversation trickled over. Over on this side, however, long shadows stretched across a vacated space, and it fell quiet enough to hear the trees whisper with dying leaves. The faint cast of street lights from the side street dispelled some of the dark, but not the shadow around him.