Chapter 24 Chapter: 24
ADDISON
“Get out, we are here,” Shepherd said, getting out of the car and sliding a black pair of glasses over his eyes before I could ask him where we were, because this certainly wasn't what I was expecting.
Boutiques, fancy restaurants, and high-end brand shops lined the street. The people I'd seen going in and out of the shops make me unconsciously anxious about my state of being.
I felt like a soaked rat. I wondered how I'd get out of the car in my oversized sweatpants and hoodie—clothes that everyone could tell weren’t even mine—adding to my embarrassment.
Shepherd looked over his shoulder and arched his brow at me, in a what are you waiting for manner.
I took another look at the busy streets and the sophisticatedly well-dressed people walking all over the place, and seeing all this didn’t make me eager to go out, looking as I do.
Heck, I’d rather stay inside the car than go out looking like an urchin with awful hair.
My phone pinged, and I took it out of my pocket. It was a text from Shepherd.
Shepherd: Get the fuck out of the car, Addison. I don’t have time to waste.
I inhaled, then exhaled, then opened the door and got out of the car. I rounded to where Shepherd stood fiddling with his phone, probably contacting the others.
“Where are we going? Where are the others?” I asked, looking around for any sign of the other four boys.
“We'll meet up with them when we're done here,” he replied without looking my way and just led the way to wherever it was he was taking me, his long legs eating away the distance.
I pull my hoodie down and hurry after him, trying to keep up with his pace. I frowned as he led us into a big luxury salon, one of those unisex salons. I frowned. Could he…?
I'm probably overthinking, right? Shepherd couldn't possibly be this considerate. A pretty brunette, not much older than me, welcomed us, guiding us to an empty chair.
Shepherd nodded to the chair for me to sit. I sat in front of the mirror as he turned to address the woman.
“How long is it going to take to fix….” he tilted his head at me, and I lowered the hoodie, my face instantly heating up. “That.”
That being my hair.
The brunette grimaced and touched my hair. “Three hours, give or take,” she replied. “We’ll need to detangle it, do some oil treatment, detox, and finally some deep conditioning.”
“Or we’ll also have to cut it a bit shorter to remove most of the damage immediately. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Do you have any style you'd want me to do?”
“Just…do whatever,” I whispered.
“Here,” Shepherd replied before I could answer, showing the woman the magazine in his hand. He must have picked it here. I frowned and was about to ask what he was doing, but the hairdresser smiled and nodded.
“Great choice, this would look great on her,” she grins flirtatiously at him. “You've got such great taste. Do you live around here?”
“Not really, but I hang here every once in a while.” He flirted back, grinning.
Manwhore!
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at both of them. The girl was blushing, clearly falling for his rumored charms.
He just couldn't help himself, and the women, or girls, made it so easy. No wonder he thinks he's so irresistible.
The hairstylist finally looked at me for the final approval, I just shrugged. Angela, that bitch has already ruined my hair, so there was nothing more that could possibly be worse than what she'd already done.
I'm sure anything is better than being covered in batter and smelling of raw eggs.
For the next three hours, the young woman worked on my hair; she'd washed it, detangled it, and cut it, and Shepherd had sat there in the salon with me, directly behind me.
Except for the brief time he'd left and came back with a couple of bags in hand, he'd never gone anywhere. Whenever I glanced into the mirror, my eyes would clash with his stormy grey ones.
By the time we were done, it was already late in the evening, and I was feeling so good about my new hair that I was practically brimming.
My hair is now wavy, glossy, and shoulder-length, instead of the waist-length I used to have. I gotta admit, I look hotter with this hairstyle.
“What do you think?” the hair stylist asked, grinning at Shepherd through the mirror. Honestly, she did such a great job that I almost overlooked her blatant flirtatious behavior. Besides, it's none of my business if she wants to throw herself all over Shepherd.
“Exquisite,” he said blankly.
But when my eyes flicked to him, through the mirror, the intensity in those grey eyes sent my heart pounding uncontrollably in my chest, and my stomach to flutter.
I quickly glanced away, biting my lip nervously.
“Here, go change while I settle the bills.” He picked up the bags from earlier and handed them to me. I peek inside and get a glimpse of something black and shimmery.
“Do you mind showing her to your restroom to change?”
“Not at all, come on.” I followed dutifully, but my thoughts were all over the place.
Shepherd was being unusually nice; that alone should make me cautious, but between him sending me those intense looks, bringing me to the salon, buying me clothes, and then watching him flirt with another woman.
I honestly don't know what to think. He's contradictory, and the mixed signals are giving me whiplash.
“You can change here.”
“Thank you.” She turns to leave, but glances back, smiling at me. Oh, I recognize that look all too well.
“So your brother is hot, does he have a girlfriend?”
“No, he doesn't, he's single. But…” I paused.
“But what?”
“How old do you think he is?” I asked curiously. Although I can already tell.
She shrugged. “Same age as me, he told me he was twenty-three.” I mentally scoffed. Outwardly, I grimaced. Her eyes bulged at my reaction.
“Don't tell me I've been hitting on a minor?”
“Yeah, well, I can't blame you, my brother got our father's gene, so it's no wonder you couldn't tell he was seventeen,” I lied straight through my teeth, barely holding back my laughter.
“Jesus!” she gasped, clearly disgusted by her earlier behavior. “He doesn't look it, though.”
“Family genes,” I said, nodding. “And please don't let him know I told you, otherwise he's going to be pissed with me.”
“No worries. If he's seventeen, how old are you?”
“I'm sixteen.”
“Go on and get dressed.”
“Thanks again.” I waited until I was sure she was gone before I giggled evilly.
Take that, Shepherd.
Twenty-three my ass. I must have missed this part of their conversation, probably while I was having one of my inner monologues.
Although he's not twenty-three, Shepherd's also not seventeen. He's almost nineteen. I bit my lip as I wondered why the hell I just did that.
Lie like that.
I get into one of the stalls, lock it, and pull out the dress. I gasped at the beautiful, lacy, shimmery dress with the half leather jacket.
In the other bag, black leather ankle boots have me almost salivating. I stripped out the hoodie and sweatpants and put on the dress.
It stopped at my mid thighs, and clung to my curves just perfectly, but the splits at the sides and the way it pushed my boobs up made it look almost scandalous. The short sleeves, arms and shoulders were transparent.
I quickly donned the boots then walked out of the stall with Shepherd's old clothes in the bag. When I glanced at myself in the mirror for the first time, I had to do a double take.
It's not just the dress, it's my hair, the way the dress flattered my curves and made me look sexy. Add that to the boots and jacket, although I still haven't worn it yet.
I look completely bad ass.
My stomach flutters wildly as I walk out of the restroom and head towards Shepherd. My half jacket in the crook of one hand, the bag with Shepherd's clothes in the other.
Shepherd was on the phone outside when I came out, and I swear it's as though he could feel my presence. He turned around and just froze, his hand with the phone lowered. His eyes darkened, mouth tightening.
My steps falter, my entire body feels the intensity of his look, goosebumps break over my arms and neck spreading. I shivered although the weather wasn't cold, my stomach fluttering.