Flames of the Forgotten

Chapter Twenty-Six

"This is the weirdest position I've ever been in," I say, and Jax laughs heartily.

I'm in the sled on my knees, leaning over a bucket. Meanwhile, Jax is behind me with a pot of warm water ready to pour over my head. After a lot of trial and error, this is what we think will be the easiest way to wash my hair without a tub. We just finished Jax's and managed without too much mess, but mine is much longer.

Bath days were super awkward at first, as one of us had to turn away while the other was cleaning up. However, over the weeks, all the making out has made us much less shy around each other. We're both in our underwear as we do this, but I had a towel wrapped around me. None of my bras fit anymore, so if this thing slips, Jax gets an eyeful.

Warm water is poured gently through my hair, and the excess falls into the bucket I'm hunched over. As Jax starts massaging the shampoo into my hair, I close my eyes and savor the relaxing feeling of his strong hands while he works.

"It's so long," he comments. 

"You owe me a haircut," I remind him.

"I'll mess it up," he says worriedly. More water is poured, and he uses his hands to comb it out as he rinses it. The fragrant smell and clean feeling are energizing despite it being late into the evening.

"Just a few inches at the ends. It'll be fine if it's a little uneven. What if you do it now?" I ask as he starts squeezing the excess water from my hair. Once he wraps a towel around it, I sit up and squeeze my eyes shut when that familiar head rush takes over. I'm glad he's behind me, so he didn't see it; I don't want him worrying about me.

This time, the dizzy feeling is warranted anyway. I had my head hanging over a bucket, and anyone would've had the same sensation. We had a decent meal tonight: crow stew with a little rice added. My belly was even full after. I'm okay. I'm just hungrier than I'd like to be, but okay.

We still haven't gotten any big game, but I have faith that Jax will find something soon. Meanwhile, I am so happy he's been listening to me and coming home before dark every day. I do not want to go back to worrying about him every evening.

With his help, I stand back up in the slippery sled. He keeps me steady as he helps me step out of it.

I sit at the kitchen table and start combing my hair with my fingertips.

"Are you sure you want me to cut it?" he asks as he opens the cabinet and grabs the scissors along with my brush.

"Do it," I say bravely as he makes his way over.

He starts brushing my hair, and it feels nice having someone else do it.

"Ready?" He asks as he holds a strand of hair in his hands.

"You're way more nervous than me. Just cut it, Smokey."

He snickers at the old name as he makes the cut. I watch a small lock of hair flutter to the ground after he does.

He continues working, moving quickly on the back but then slows down to go back over little pieces to even it out. He then moves over to my front, and I spread my legs so he can get closer. When his bare thighs brush mine, little goosebumps form over my exposed skin as my nerves tingle from his touch. My eyes glaze over his bare chest.

"Keep looking at me like that, and I'm not going to be able to finish this haircut," he warns.

"As tempting as it is to distract you. I'd rather not have only the back cut."

He chuckles as he kneels down to get closer. He starts very carefully and slowly cutting the front. He takes his time, clearly much more meticulous with my hair than he'd have ever been with his.