Page 65 of All's Fair in Love & Wrath

“No, but maybe I’ll ask her.”

“He also did all of Sin’s, but it’s taken like a fuckin’ decade to get his done because he’s a big baby. Hates needles. He’s got Bristol’s name tattooed right over his heart.”

“Oh wow. That’s commitment, I suppose,” I laugh.

“He got it the day he met her, Sienna. I guess when you know, you know.”

Yeah. So they say.

I pull Axel’s arm closer, threading my fingers through his, breathing in the woodsy, citrus scent of his skin. Sleep doesn’t elude me, there’s no fear to push away, no anxiety, or negative thoughts, just . . . peace and comfort. I sink into it, letting it cradle me in a way I’ve craved for longer than I can remember. Sleep claims me, but it’s the safety of Axel’s arms that ease me into it, reminding me that I’ve got someone right here who has my back.

With no newsfrom Saint today, I thought I could convince Axel to stay locked up in his bedroom for hours, just the two of us. But Crew had other plans. Which is how I ended up sitting at the bar with Monroe and Axel, while Crew bleaches my roots. I was completely comfortable doing it myself, as I’ve been doing it for years now without any help, but Axel let it slip while grabbing us breakfast at the café in town, and Crew assumed it was going to be a hair dye party. He’s a little odd, goofy, but you can tell he’s just as lethal as everyone else, and he’s endearing. I can see why Monroe fell for him. Even if they seem starkly different.

Everyone at the clubhouse is nice, welcoming, and they’re absolutely nothing like I assumed all of them to be. I don’t even think my dad’s club was this laid-back and family-oriented. They all literally do everything together, with everyone jumping in to help when needed, joking, and having each other’s backs. It’s similar to what my brother has with Lincoln and Gage, but on a smaller scale.

Crew stands in front of me with the bottles of hair bleach like he’s about to perform emergency surgery. He took off his leather cut, leaving him in just a pair of tight leather pants, which made Axel growl like a beast.

Crew snaps a glove dramatically at his wrist, and nerves take over. I have to remind myself that this is my choice, and that letting him touch my hair is completely fine and normal.

“Alright. Before we begin, I just want it officially documented that I knew you weren’t a natural blonde, just like me. Secretary Wrath, make it known!”

“What do you mean make it known, you jackass?”

“I don’t know. Do what club secretaries do. Make it known! Put it in your notes!”

“This isn’t a meeting, Mal, I’m not taking notes.”

“Well, how will it be documented, then? It needs to be official.”

“We’ll all remember. You were the first to notice.”

“Aha! Thank you, good sir! Now we can continue! Sienna!” he says with a flourish of his hand. He’s absolutely absurd, but in a jester kind of way? He’s amusing, and I feel lighter every moment that passes.

“So, you mean to tell me that this gorgeous shade doesn’t just emerge naturally from your scalp like a Disney Princess?” Monroe asks with a wink.

“It does not.” It’s artificial and fake to mask the color hiding beneath it, the beautiful burnt red that reminds me of a time that no longer exists . . . and of my mother.

Malice moves behind me, sectioning off my hair with the confidence of a man who watched exactly three tutorial videos on YouTube with Monroe before he got started. Then he mixes the developer cream in the squirt bottle and starts to shake vigorously.

“How long do I need to shake this hair bleach juice for?”

“Mal, that’s not what it’s called,” Axel tells him, covering his smile with his hand. God he’s handsome.

“Terminology is flexible in the arts. I’m basically an artist now.” Monroe and I look at each other for point-one second before we burst into laughter. Malice returns behind me, getting to work, completely unfazed, and I don’t know if I should be excited or very afraid.

“Here we observe the rare fake blonde in her natural habitat,” he says in a very terrible attempt at a British accent as he starts squeezing the liquid into my hair. “Farewell pretty redroots, it’s time for you to go bye-bye.” Then he really gets to work. “You’re doing me next. This is the color of my dreams. We’re going to match. Like twins. Speaking of twins?—”

“Mal, shut the fuck up,” Axel snaps.

“Rude! You areveryrude, sir. Annnnnyway,” he draws out. “Speaking of twins, ask Axel sometime about how he got food poisoning recently. I did not. I came out unscathed. It was a miracle! I asked Maggie if mine was safe from her,” Crew leans down, his head next to my ear. I jerk away slightly, but he whispers anyway. “Secret sauce, and it turns out it was! Only Wrathy-boy here got it, and boy was he sick.”

I look at Axel, my brows rising, but he shakes his head.

“Not a proud moment. Don’t want to relive it. A story for another day,” he replies.

“Well, Crew may have dodged the bullet when it comes to food poisoning, but he did not avoid the sexual harassment he got from my grandmother and her friends when I took him bowling,” Monroe chimes in, her blush-pink hair dancing around her chin as she laughs.

“What? You’re kidding!” I gasp, chuckling slightly. Crew moves my head side to side, the cool formula sticking to my head as he drags it down my long length.