shallow, stupid one who seeks his own interests.”
“That’s funny, because since I’ve known you, you’ve been watching out for others’ interests. Like me and Scrangey.”
“I need you,” he said.
She flinched slightly but recovered. “And Scrangey?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his hands over his knees, still trying to get rid of the lingering stress of her being in danger. Was this what having a mate meant? Feeling like you were going to have a heart attack at any moment if someone threatened them?
If so, he wasn’t sure he wanted to have any part of it. It was too intense.
So he changed the subject. “They had a poster with your employee badge on it. Looks like you’re the one who is gonna need to change your appearance, unless you have powers I don’t know about.”
“No powers that I know of,” she said glumly. “Except I’m kind of good at restraining a certain dragon.” Her eyes twinkled, and he felt himself relax. “Thanks for defending me.”
“Thanks for stopping me,” he said and meant it. No one had ever cared about his morals before. His soul’s welfare. Perhaps all of this was happening because he truly had found a good friend for the first time.
But did people usually want to have sex with their good friends?
“I guess we should head out and find a new place,” she said. “And probably a salon along the way.” She twirled her hair pensively. “I guess it was time for a cut anyway.”
He frowned. He didn’t want to change anything about her, but if it would help her stay safe… “Okay. I’ll get started packing, and we’ll head out. You look online for our next place.”
“Sure.”
But as they got up to do their different tasks, he could still feel the awkwardness between them. No matter what, last night they’d been one.
Nothing would ever be the same.
* * *
B ridget had to grin at how protective Alistair had been throughout her haircut.
It was like every little snip was a personal insult to him, and the male hairdresser had seemed practically ready to quit until Bridget begged him and promised him a huge tip.
It had been a long time since Bridget had been able to care about her hair, so she didn’t mind getting the cut and the highlights she would need to look different from her picture. Secretly, she was a little bit excited about what Alistair’s reaction would be when he saw her. Kind of a Cinderella moment maybe.
Right now he was sulking in the chair next to her, flipping through a magazine while muttering under his breath.
“We really ought to get your hair cut while we’re waiting,” she said, sitting down and trying not to laugh at Alistair’s confused look at her foils.
“No,” he said. “I like my hair how it is. It’s beautiful.” The hairdresser snorted, and Alistair shot him a glare.
“It is.” Bridget agreed. “But you know, it might just be safer if we didn’t stand out.”
Alistair stared in the mirror thoughtfully. It was the same argument she’d used before that had no effect on him, but this time, he appeared resigned. He folded his arms and sat back. “Very well, serf, cut my hair.”
“Serf?” the hairdresser asked, lip curling.
“I’m sorry,” Bridget said. “Please, please excuse my friend here. He’s… odd.”
“Fine,” the hairdresser said, rolling his eyes and bringing his kit over. “There’s no one here in this tiny town anyway. Might as well take what I can get.” He ran his hands through Alistair’s hair, and the dragon jumped, pinning the man behind him with a fiery glare in the mirror.
Bridget wondered what it was that made Alistair finally willing to cut it. She also felt she would kind of miss it.
His eyes met hers, mercurial. “Are you sure you want me to cut it?”
“It can always grow back.”
“What if I’m not as pretty after?” he muttered.
She laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be pretty.”
He slumped but allowed the man to wash and cut his hair. Not too short, just
“That’s funny, because since I’ve known you, you’ve been watching out for others’ interests. Like me and Scrangey.”
“I need you,” he said.
She flinched slightly but recovered. “And Scrangey?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his hands over his knees, still trying to get rid of the lingering stress of her being in danger. Was this what having a mate meant? Feeling like you were going to have a heart attack at any moment if someone threatened them?
If so, he wasn’t sure he wanted to have any part of it. It was too intense.
So he changed the subject. “They had a poster with your employee badge on it. Looks like you’re the one who is gonna need to change your appearance, unless you have powers I don’t know about.”
“No powers that I know of,” she said glumly. “Except I’m kind of good at restraining a certain dragon.” Her eyes twinkled, and he felt himself relax. “Thanks for defending me.”
“Thanks for stopping me,” he said and meant it. No one had ever cared about his morals before. His soul’s welfare. Perhaps all of this was happening because he truly had found a good friend for the first time.
But did people usually want to have sex with their good friends?
“I guess we should head out and find a new place,” she said. “And probably a salon along the way.” She twirled her hair pensively. “I guess it was time for a cut anyway.”
He frowned. He didn’t want to change anything about her, but if it would help her stay safe… “Okay. I’ll get started packing, and we’ll head out. You look online for our next place.”
“Sure.”
But as they got up to do their different tasks, he could still feel the awkwardness between them. No matter what, last night they’d been one.
Nothing would ever be the same.
* * *
B ridget had to grin at how protective Alistair had been throughout her haircut.
It was like every little snip was a personal insult to him, and the male hairdresser had seemed practically ready to quit until Bridget begged him and promised him a huge tip.
It had been a long time since Bridget had been able to care about her hair, so she didn’t mind getting the cut and the highlights she would need to look different from her picture. Secretly, she was a little bit excited about what Alistair’s reaction would be when he saw her. Kind of a Cinderella moment maybe.
Right now he was sulking in the chair next to her, flipping through a magazine while muttering under his breath.
“We really ought to get your hair cut while we’re waiting,” she said, sitting down and trying not to laugh at Alistair’s confused look at her foils.
“No,” he said. “I like my hair how it is. It’s beautiful.” The hairdresser snorted, and Alistair shot him a glare.
“It is.” Bridget agreed. “But you know, it might just be safer if we didn’t stand out.”
Alistair stared in the mirror thoughtfully. It was the same argument she’d used before that had no effect on him, but this time, he appeared resigned. He folded his arms and sat back. “Very well, serf, cut my hair.”
“Serf?” the hairdresser asked, lip curling.
“I’m sorry,” Bridget said. “Please, please excuse my friend here. He’s… odd.”
“Fine,” the hairdresser said, rolling his eyes and bringing his kit over. “There’s no one here in this tiny town anyway. Might as well take what I can get.” He ran his hands through Alistair’s hair, and the dragon jumped, pinning the man behind him with a fiery glare in the mirror.
Bridget wondered what it was that made Alistair finally willing to cut it. She also felt she would kind of miss it.
His eyes met hers, mercurial. “Are you sure you want me to cut it?”
“It can always grow back.”
“What if I’m not as pretty after?” he muttered.
She laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be pretty.”
He slumped but allowed the man to wash and cut his hair. Not too short, just
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