Back to Reality(Twilight)

Chapter: 8

I hate my hair.

I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror with gel (or mousse, I'm not certain of the difference between the two) in my hands trying to tame this wiry disarray of bronze locks on top of my head. I pulled at a strand of it, desperately willing it to stay down. But as soon as it slipped from my fingers, it popped right back up.

"FUCK!" I yelled in frustration, giving up entirely.

Bella bounded through the doors of the bathroom, looking stunned. "What?!"

I threw my hands by my side and turned to face her, pouting. "I hate my hair. Please, help."

She smiled, chuckling softly and stepping closer to me. In one big swoop, she landed on top of the bathroom counter, sitting on her butt with her legs swinging in front of me. Parting her thighs, she tugged on my shirt, bringing me to stand in between her legs until my hips were pressed against hers. I laid my hands on her soft, smooth thighs where her shorts had ridden up slightly. All she had on were those same short white, cotton pajama shorts and an old college t-shirt from her sorority. Her hair was still damp from the shower she had just taken, and there was not a stitch of makeup on her face. She looked beautiful.

"Come here, you big baby," she said after squirting some of the gel in her hand. She was eye-level with me which never happened since she was at least a foot shorter than me, but I never let me eyes wander from hers while she meticulously massaged my scalp and placed each strand of my hair in some sort of organized mess.

Her brows were knitted in concentration, and a little sliver of her red tongue was peeking out between her pink lips as she continued to work the ends of my hair from my head.

I rubbed my thumbs against her thighs in little circles. "You are so fucking cute, you know that?" I asked, smiling.

Her eyes darted to mine briefly as she smiled then they traveled back up to my head and her hands. "You know you're going to have to start watching your language soon? Whenever we start back to school next month, you can't be saying 'fuck' every other word."

I shrugged. "I know."

"And don't say that you hate your hair," she said, glancing down into my eyes briefly again. "I love your hair."

And I'm beginning to love how you order me around.

"It's always a mess," I replied.

"I know."

"It never does what I want it to."

"I know."

"You're the only one who can make it look right," I whispered, asking myself how she does it.

She laughed softly and nodded. "I know."

"Why is that?"

Her hands left my hair and so did her sky blue eyes. She smiled warmly at me and let out a deep breath. I immediately missed her hands playing softly in my hair which I hadn't even realized felt good until she stopped.

"I just know you."

She tilted her head, leaned down and kissed the center of my throat before pushing me away lightly so she could jump down from the counter and take off into the bedroom. I sighed and looked in the mirror again.

My hair looked perfect.

And I was smiling broadly.

It was the night of the bachelor party. It had been exactly a week since I had woken up in Seattle. Suffice it to say that it had been the most eventful, challenging but all round best week of my life.