Rachel Dyken - Toxic

He snapped his fingers. “That was it.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed. “Sometimes I wonder about you.”

I took a sip of soda.

“It’s the drugs,” he said in a serious voice, causing me to choke on the leftover Diet Pepsi in my mouth.

“He means the good ones,” Lisa added.

I looked between them.

“Legal drugs,” Wes explained. “To keep me healthy. Just in case cancer tries to come back and make me its bitch.”

“R-right.” My voice was hoarse from choking.

Wes smiled that same blinding smile that belonged on every freaking billboard in America and pushed to his feet. “Alright ,ladies, have fun with your pizza party. I’m going to go help my fiancée in the kitchen.”

“Kissing her and trying to make her wear the sexy apron isn’t helping!” Lisa shouted after him.

“A guy can try!” he yelled back.

The minute the door shut behind him Lisa’s gaze narrowed in on me. “What did Wes want?”

“Uh, to give me advice.”

“He should have majored in Psychology.” She shook her head.

“Yeah, that or modeling.”

Snorting, Lisa tossed a piece of sausage in her mouth, “Ain’t that the truth. Alright, let’s finish writing up our stupid reports from the past four weeks so we can watch crap reality TV.”

“Deal.” I pulled out my computer and started typing.

Three hours later and we were halfway through the first season of New Girl. Every time the door opened my heart sped up a bit — hoping to catch a glimpse of Gabe. Lisa said they hung out twenty-four seven.

Just as we were starting the second season, the door flew open and Gabe strolled in, his eyes focused on a box in his hands. “Lisa, it’s time for you to dye my hair again. It’s already lightning up and I’m getting strange looks from—”

Lisa cleared her throat.

Gabe looked up.

“Hi.” I waved from the couch. Lame. I should have at least smiled brighter, but I was too busy being completely affected by his proximity and a bit confused as to why he needed to dye his hair — as if he was keeping it dark for a reason.

A muscle clenched in his jaw. “Hey.”

“He gets gray hair,” Lisa explained.

“What?” he roared.

“And old ladies hit on him.” She examined her nails. “Pisses him off, so he makes me dye it. Isn’t that right, Gabe?” She smiled brightly while he glowered at her like she’d just kicked him in the balls and said you’re welcome.

“Right. I’m a cougar magnet.”

“Cool.” I fought a smile. “So why do you dye it darker? Why not go blond or something?”

The smile froze on Lisa’s face.

Gabe smirked. “Black, just like my soul.”

“Wow. Should have seen that one coming,” I replied, falling into an easy laughter with both him and Lisa.

“Why don’t you do it?” She pressed pause on the TV.

“Do what?” Both Gabe and I asked in unison.

Lisa huffed and got up from the couch. “Dye Gabe’s hair. Besides, I just got my nails done.” She snatched the box from his hands and threw it at me.

I caught it midair and watched as Gabe’s eyes narrowed in on his cousin, that same jaw flexing even tighter this time like he’d just bit down on something hard. “But Lisa, you actually have experience dying hair.”

“Hey!” I acted offended. I had no idea what I was doing.

Lisa smacked him. “She’s a girl. Dying hair is as natural as breathing.”

“Doubt that.” They engaged in a silent stare down while I looked on.

Gabe tore his gaze away from her and swore. “Fine, but if I wake up with bald spots and earn the nickname patch for the rest of the semester I’m blaming you.”

“As much as I’d enjoy that…” I got up from the couch and made my way toward the bathroom. “I’ll do my best to make sure all hair stays on your head and not in my clutches. Deal?”

“On second thought…” Gabe came around the couch with a wolfish grin. “If you’re pulling my hair — damn, I may like that.”

“Dip your balls in some cold water before you go in that bathroom and shut the door, will ya?” Lisa asked. “I don’t want my friend getting taken advantage of on school property.”

“Chill.” Gabe winked at Lisa and licked his lips. “If I wanted to take advantage of her I sure as hell wouldn’t start on your bathroom floor.”

“And the visual images just keep coming,” Lisa sang. “Remember, Gabe. She walks in with her virtue. I expect her to leave with the same.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gabe called, then followed me into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The bathroom suddenly felt fifty times too small as he maneuvered around me, put the toilet seat down, and sat.

Hands shaking, I pulled out the instructions and started reading.

All the while noticing that Gabe hadn’t said a word once we were alone.

“Your hands are shaking.” He finally pointed out.

“Well. you’re making me nervous because you keep tapping your foot.” I snapped.

“Oh.” He stopped tapping. “Sorry.”

I blew out the breath I’d been holding in and concentrated harder on the instructions. “It’s fine.”

A few seconds went by.

“If you stare any harder at that paper you’re going to burn holes through it.”

“Do you mind?” I asked. “Or are you a fan of going bald at twenty-one?”

“Twenty-two,” he corrected. “And sorry.”

I read the last bit of instructions and went to work, all the while hoping that I really didn’t end up burning all of his dark hair off. Though I had to admit, I wouldn’t mind… because for some reason, dark hair really didn’t suit him.

The most erotic touch a man can experience is that of a woman digging her nails into his scalp and giving a little tug. —Gabe H., Wes M., and all men… everywhere.

Gabe

So the whole ignore Saylor for a few days and try to get her out of my head thing? Didn’t go as planned.

I dreamt of her.

I dreamt of her music.

Her kiss.

Her stupid laugh.

It was aggravating to say the least — especially when I was supposed to be focused on making sure my dad didn’t pop up at the Home again.

Things had been quiet. Too quiet. Even Wes was a bit concerned. He helped me hire the best private investigator money could buy. And still nothing.

We had no leads. It was like — he just disappeared. Which made me almost as nervous as if he was snooping around.

When I called my mom, she said he simply left and said he had something to do. Granted, she was used to his escapades. He was pretty unstable most the time but she still loved him — would do anything for him. I wasn’t sure what made me feel sicker — the fact that my dad’s number one desire in life was to bring me to my knees — or that my mom was still capable of loving someone who wanted to destroy her flesh and blood.

Saylor started combing out my hair, and I literally had to hold onto the countertop so I didn’t slam her against the nearest wall, plunge my tongue down her throat, and beg her to kiss me back.

And I would beg.

I would plead.

Damn, it had been forever since I’d felt so attracted to a girl — the all-consuming feeling was starting to grate on my nerves.

“I’ve been practicing every day,” Saylor said quietly, her fingers parting my hair as cold liquid made its’ way onto my roots.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm.” She started rubbing the dye in, then moved to another spot on the back of my head. “I think you’d be proud of me.”

“I’m sure.”

“I want you to watch.”

Holy shit, I almost choked before answering. “Yeah, I would love to.” No seriously… I would love nothing more.

Maybe I could.

Maybe my dad really was gone.

Maybe being with Saylor was possible.

Yeah. I was starting to throw myself tiny crumbs from the table in hopes that one day I could have the full meal. Yet I knew as much as anyone that by the time I made it to the buffet, the food would be gone — as if it was a mirage in the first place.

Saylor moved from my side and stood in front of me, her legs almost straddling mine as she leaned over and started dying the hair in the front.

I stared straight ahead, at her hips.

And groaned.

“Did I hurt you?” Her hands briefly left my head.

“No.” I coughed. “Sorry.”

Her hands returned. I fought the urge to close my eyes.

Her hands paused.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” She sounded like she was thinking. “It’s just… your hair’s really light right here.”

Damn it. I played dumb. “Oh yeah? Weird.”

“Gabe…”

“What?”

“Your hair’s almost blond.”

“Maybe it just looks that way because the dye’s so dark.”

“But—”

“Saylor.”

“What?

“I missed you.”

I felt like an ass for distracting her like that, but at least what I was saying was true. It wasn’t like I was lying.

She started rubbing the dye in again and sighed. “I missed you too.”

A smile spread across my features before I could stop it.

“And you’re a jackass for using something like that to distract me from the fact that you’re a natural blond and for some reason don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sandy blond,” I grumbled. “And it’s the truth. I did miss you.”

“Enough to help me more with my music?”

A cold spot of dye dripped down the side of my head and onto the towel across my shoulders. “After all, you said five tears.”

My shoulders relaxed. “I’ve only made up for one.”

“I know.”

“Tomorrow.” I licked my lips and tried to keep the next smile in but it was impossible. “Tear number two.”

“I have class all day, then I’m at the Home tomorrow.”

“Weird, me too.”

She laughed and grabbed my head. “Stop leaning forward or we’re going to end up dying your eyebrows too.”

“Fine, fine.”

She worked in silence and I was happy watching her legs…

“Okay.” She set everything down on the counter then sat on the floor facing me. “Tell me one true thing.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I swallowed and answered. “I hate dying my hair.”

It was her turn to look surprised.

“Then why go to all the trouble? And don’t spout crap about gray hair. I saw no gray hair, and you’re not the type of guy to turn down any female, cougar or otherwise…”

“Ouch.” I laughed.

Her eyes narrowed. Oh, I loved those eyes. They changed colors when she was angry. Hot. So damn hot.

“It’s a necessary evil.”

“Because.”

“You said one true thing.”

“This is part of the true thing.”

“Nope. I told you one true thing. I hate dying my hair.”

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

I looked away, focusing on the bar of soap in the corner of the bathtub and the slow drip of water coming out of the leaky faucet. “Light hair was the old me — too recognizable. And that’s as close to the truth as I’ve told anyone.”

Saylor’s lips pressed together, causing her cheeks to tighten just a bit, which also caused her neck muscles to strain. Man, every inch of her was perfect. I wanted to touch every part of her. I’ve never seen a girl look so sexy without trying.

She was in skinny jeans and a black t-shirt for shit’s sake, and it was a tie between wanting to strip her first and lick her later or lick her first then strip her later.

“Thank you,” she finally said, getting up off the floor and checking my hair with her fingers.

“Not so fast,” I murmured, grabbing a hold of her waist. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me one true thing.”

My fingers dug into her skin, her breath caught.

“I think you’d be hotter as a blond.”

I released her and burst out laughing. The sound of it echoed around the bathroom walls like a damn ping-pong ball. “Honey, you have no idea how true that is. No. Freaking. Clue.”

She swatted me with a towel, and just like that—

I was back to being obsessed.

Back to trying to figure out possible scenarios where the endgame wasn’t me packing up and leaving.

But keeping her all for myself.

Except — I had a nagging suspicion that if she ever found out who I really was, the normalcy of our relationship would take a nosedive and head straight for the pit of hell.

The hardest thing I’ve ever done is watch my family suffer through my illness, knowing there was nothing I could do to comfort them… until I saw the look on Gabe’s face when she came into the room. And then, like watching the saddest part of a movie, I saw their story unfold. And the ending? I closed my eyes. I couldn’t watch. Because I hated those types of stories — ones that gave you no hope but left you empty — and searching. —Wes M.