Overshare much, Kennedy?
“You don’t need highlights for that. Your eyes are gorgeous enough all on their own,” he says softly as he looks into said gorgeous eyes.
Holy hell, is it hot out here or is it just me? And what the devil is he playing at, flirting with me like this? Yes, I said flirting and I realize how outrageous that sounds. Griffin Crawford is f**king flirting with me. I’ve known him long enough to know when he’s turning on the charm. I’ve seen him charm the underwear right off a stranger in two point three seconds just by complimenting her legs. My underwear is staying right where it is, thank you very much.
Before I can tell him exactly what I think about him and his stupid gorgeous-eyes compliment, a police cruiser pulls up to the curb next to us. I thank my lucky stars when I see my cousin Ward get out and come around to stand next to us.
“Nice hairstyle, Kennedy. Trying to make a phone call to your motherland?” Ward asks with a laugh as he reaches up and flicks one of the foils on my head.
Never mind. I take back my thankfulness.
“Kiss my ass, Ward. I’ve had a bad f**king day.”
I know what you’re saying to yourself right now: this sounds like June Cleaver finally had enough of Beaver and the gang’s shit.
Ward can see by the look on my face that he should leave me alone. I won’t hesitate to put him in a headlock in the middle of the sidewalk. I don’t care if he is wearing his police uniform.
“Griffin, my man! How’ve you been?” Ward asks, turning his attention away from me.
“Can’t complain,” Griffin replies as the two men exchange handshakes and start talking back and forth about Notre Dame’s upcoming season. As teenagers and into early adulthood, we all hung out together: my brothers, my cousins, Griffin, Alex, and me. We were all close in age and we all had the army in common so it naturally made us friends.
The fact that my brothers and my cousins are still friendly with Griffin when he screwed me over pisses me off. They should hate him on principle. If some woman came into my family’s lives and stomped all over their hearts, I would cut that bitch. Where’s the damn loyalty?
“Excuse me, I hate to interrupt this bromance, but we have work to do.” I glare at my cousin.
“I’m sorry, it is impossible to take you seriously right now with all that shit on your head,” Ward says, laughing.
I take a step in his direction, preparing myself for a mind-erasing headlock when Griffin lightly touches my arm.
“Before you kill him, we need to talk,” Griffin tells me.
“We have nothing to talk about. I’m going to go inside and get this crap out of my hair and then I’m going to get to work. You can just get your ass back on that bike and go find someone else to annoy,” I tell him as I turn and fling the door to the salon open angrily.
As soon as I walk inside I’m met by the sounds of wails and barking. Sven is still sitting on the floor in a pile of hair products while Paige attempts to console him, and Mrs. Justin Bieber is losing her shit, barking at anything in her general vicinity and stopping every ten seconds to piss on the floor.
“I ALMOST DIED, PAIGE! It was HORRIBLE! I have so many regrets. So many things I’ve never accomplished. I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!”
I wonder if anyone else notices that in the midst of Sven’s hysterics he seems to have forgotten he has an accent. Paige is crouched down next to Sven and pats him on the back at the appropriate times. She catches my gaze and rolls her eyes in annoyance.
“There, there, Sven. You’re okay. Look, Kennedy is back!” she exclaims, getting up from her spot on the floor and rushing over to me, lowering her voice so only I can hear her. “I’m going to punch him in his face if he doesn’t stop whining.”
Taking a deep breath, I move away from Paige and over to Sven’s spot on the floor.
“Sven, you did really good under pressure. You almost had that guy!” I tell him so he’ll quit the damn crying.
Sven sniffles and wipes his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.
“I did do vell, didn’t I? I always sought I should haff been a cop. I haff all of dees natural eenstincts,” he tells me seriously, in full-on Germedishithuanian, or wherever-the-hell-he-thinks-he’s-from accent.
It takes everything in me not to laugh in his face, but I have to rein it in. I need this guy to fix my hair, pronto.
“Yes, you’re absolutely right. How about you get up off the floor and take these foils out of my hair while my cousin Ward questions you?” I ask as Ward walks through the door.
“Oooooh, a man in uniform! I veel better already,” Sven exclaims as he takes in my cousin from head to toe before jumping up off the floor and extending his hand out to him, wrist cocked, like he wants Ward to kiss the top of his hand. “My name eez Sven. I am zee one who almost captured zee criminal.”
Paige and I share a look of annoyance before turning back to watch Ward awkwardly grab Sven’s hand and shake it like a limp noodle.
While Sven begins to regale my cousin with his act of heroism, the bell chimes above the door and I turn to see Griffin walk in.
“Out! Get out!” I raise my hand and point to the door.
“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me,” Griffin replies firmly.
I don’t even acknowledge his words. I turn my back on him and drag Sven back toward the shampoo bowls as Ward follows us and continues to ask Sven questions about whether or not he’d ever seen McFadden in the shop before and if McFadden mentioned anything about where he was staying.