No, I would not let him see how much of a maniac.
Well, that had been the plan until he’d walked in on me kicking pillows, my hair sticking out in all directions. He was catching quite the vivid glimpse of maniacal me.
I pressed myself to his chest, and his arms closed around me. His mouth touched the top of my head, and suddenly, I didn’t give a shit about the gum or my hair. That was how good his hugs were.
“Who am I killing?” he asked.
A surprised giggle slipped out. “What?”
“Like when you laugh like that, all sweet and soft.” He tipped my chin with his knuckle. “Who fucked with you? Did someone touch you? Give me names.”
I took his hand from my chin and moved it to the back of my head. He stilled when he felt it, frowning in confusion. Gently gripping my shoulders, he turned me around.
“Is there…gum in your hair?” Confusion laced his voice. He hadn’t yet come to the conclusion that I wouldn’t possibly put gum in my own hair.
“There is.”
“Wha—?” He spun me back around, scowling now. “Are you telling me—did someone do this to you?”
I nodded. “I don’t even know how they did it, but yeah, the sneaky little bitches in my class are responsible for this. If I don’t murder pillows, I’ll murder people.”
Everyone had been leaving class at once. Abby had positioned herself in front of me with Kayleigh and the Pi Sig boys behind. Something touched my hair, but I hadn’t really thought much of it since we were bumping elbows and shoulders at the same time. When I got outside and absently ran a hand over my hair, I knew exactly what had happened.
Those petty ass bitches had hit me right where it hurt the most. They couldn’t embarrass me, and Professor Seavers wouldn’t stand by while they hurt me again, so they’d found my soft underbelly and a-fucking-ttacked.
I wasn’t too proud to admit to being a vain little lamb. My hair was my precious. My Prada could burn—god forbid—but I’d recover as long as I had my hair. I spent several fortunes on highlights four times yearly and could feed a small country with the products I used to keep it healthy and thick. Kayleigh and Abby knew that. When we’d been “friends” last year, I’d told those twats which products to use on their skanky hair and brassy highlights.
“What the fuck, Elena!” Lachlan’s ruddy cheeks reddened. “Someone purposely did this to you?”
“Girls who don’t like me.” I reached behind my head to touch the tangled mess. “Shit. I can’t cut this. I’ll have a bald patch.”
My head fell into his chest. He squeezed me tight, rumbling so low, it felt like he was purring. Strangely, I found it soothing, so I stayed there, letting him hug me and rumble at me when I should have been solving my problem.
“I’ll get it out for you,” he said. “You have peanut butter?”
I smirked into his T-shirt. “You need a sandwich before getting to work?”
Chuckling low, he patted my butt. “No, sweet girl. I’m going to use it to get the gum out of your hair.”
Pulling back, I arched a brow. “Sweet girl now? Really?”
He dragged his thumb along my brow. “You’re being sweet now, all snuggled up to me.”
I didn’t know what to do with that, so I ignored it. “How do you know how to remove gum from hair?”
“I have a little sister. Saoirse has gotten a number of things stuck in her hair in her lifetime. My mom never had the patience to try to get it out, so I took over the job.” He lifted a shoulder like it was no big deal. “Are you going to let me fix you?”
I nodded. “If you can.”
We ended up on the deck, me on a cushion on the ground, Lachlan in a chair. He positioned me facing away from him between his spread legs. He was working through my hair with incredible patience, using a comb and peanut butter to remove the gum bit by bit.
“I’m never going to be able to explain how grateful I am that you’re doing this,” I said.
“You don’t have to explain. You have pretty hair. You don’t want it ruined. I get that.”
I tried to look back at him, but he cupped the sides of my head and turned me back around.
“You think my hair is pretty?”