Just One Orgasm!

The marble floor gleamed beneath the recessed lights. Gold-trimmed mirrors lined the walls, and soft instrumental music played quietly through hidden speakers.

There were women sitting beneath hooded dryers, women having their nails done, and women drinking complimentary champagne as they waited for their appointments.

Rowan sat in one of the salon chairs, staring at herself in the mirror.

The green strands in her black hair had faded.

She ran her fingers through them.

"How much are you taking off?" the stylist asked.

Rowan looked up. "Not much."

The stylist nodded. "Just the color?"

"Yeah."

She picked up a strand and examined it.

"I want something darker."

"How dark?"

Rowan thought for a moment. "Red."

The stylist smiled. "Red red?"

Rowan nodded. "Deep red."

"Wine?"

"Maybe slightly brighter."

The stylist considered it. "Cherry?"

Rowan shook her head, and responded immediately. "Too bright."

"Ruby?"

Rowan smiled faintly. "That sounds good."

The stylist nodded. "Ruby red. We’ll keep your natural black and brunette as the base and blend the red into the existing strands."

"Perfect."

The woman turned toward her station and began arranging the products.

Rowan watched her through the mirror.

"You’ve had green for a while," the stylist said.

"Too long."

"You got bored?"

"Something like that."

The stylist laughed. "Most people come in here because they’re afraid to make a change."

Rowan looked at her reflection. She had also taken off her green coloured eye lens, and now, her brown eyes stared back at her. "I’ve had enough green."

The stylist smiled. "Fair." She reached for a small bottle. "Are you sure about red?"

"Yes."

"Because once we put the pigment in, getting it back to black or green will take some work."

"I don’t want green again."

The stylist nodded. "Then red it is."

Rowan leaned back.

For a moment, she let herself relax. She had been thinking about her hair for weeks. It wasn’t important. Not really. But lately, she had needed something she could control.

Her classes were exhausting.

The situation with Emilia and Adrian had made the atmosphere around their dorm strange.

Rowan’s fingers tightened around the armrest. She forced herself to breathe normally. Each time she sees Emilia, all she could remember was Courtney.

She swallowed.

"Are you okay?"

Rowan blinked.

The stylist was looking at her through the mirror. "Yeah."

"You went quiet."

"I’m fine."

The stylist smiled politely. "Okay."

She began sectioning Rowan’s hair.

Rowan watched the strands being separated. "How long will this take?"

"About three hours." The stylist smiled. "You’ll thank me when you see it."

Rowan smiled. "I hope so."

The stylist continued working.

Eventually, she placed the first layer of color onto Rowan’s hair. The smell of the dye immediately filled the air.

Rowan leaned back.

She glanced toward the clock. She still had time before she needed to return to campus.

Her stomach suddenly tightened.

She hadn’t expected the salon robe to bother her. The thought of taking off her shirt in front of someone still made her uncomfortable.

The burn mark wasn’t huge, but it was noticeable. She hated when people asked questions.

The stylist eventually stepped away. "I need you to put on the salon robe before we continue."

"I’ll need the bathroom." Rowan said. "Where?"

"Bathroom is just down the hall."

Rowan stood. "I’ll be back."

She walked toward the bathroom. The salon was busy enough that nobody paid attention to her.

She entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She stared at herself in the mirror.

Her hair was covered in foil.

She looked ridiculous. She pulled her sweater over her head. Her fingers stopped. The burn mark stretched across the side of her stomach.

Her expression hardened.

She touched the edge of it carefully, and a memory flashed through her mind.

She immediately dropped her hand. She didn’t want to remember. She pulled the robe over herself and folded her clothes neatly beneath her arm.

She opened the bathroom door, and walked straight into someone. Her shoulder struck theirs.

"I’m sorry." She automatically appologized.

She took one step backward, then looked up.

Everything inside her stopped. The woman standing in front of her was holding a small handbag.

She had sharp features, and cold eyes. She looked perfectly composed.

Rowan stared.

Her lips parted, and the world seemed to tilt.

It couldn’t be.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. The woman looked at her. For a second, neither moved.

Rowan’s fingers tightened around the clothes in her arms.

The woman tilted her head. A faint crease appeared between her brows. "Am I insane, or are you truly staring at me like a stranger?"

Rowan couldn’t breathe.

Her eyes moved over the woman’s face.

She stared at every feature, every familiar detail, her same eye, the same mouth, and the same face she had seen before the fire.

The woman standing before her was the same woman she had watched disappear into flames.

Her voice came out barely audible. "Courtney?"

The woman’s expression changed. Her eyes turned cold. "Yes?" She took a small step closer. "In flesh and blood."

Rowan stared at her.

Her heartbeat was so loud she could hear it.

Courtney? Alive? Impossible.

Courtney had been supposed to die.

Rowan remembered the explosion. She remembered the fire swallowing the helicopter. She remembered the chaos.

Rowan’s stomach turned.

Courtney studied her face.

"I’m gonna tell you the truth," Courtney said quietly.

Rowan couldn’t speak.

Courtney’s eyes held hers. "It almost all went dark."

Rowan’s face went pale.

The salon suddenly felt too bright, and too loud. Rowan couldn’t hear any of them properly.

All she could see was Courtney. Alive, and standing directly in front of her.

Rowan’s mind raced.

How? How was she alive? How had she survived that fire? Why hadn’t Adrian known? Why hadn’t anyone told them?

Courtney’s eyes narrowed. "You look frightened."

Rowan swallowed. "I’m not frightened."

Courtney’s smile disappeared. "Really?"

Rowan stared at her. "You died."

Courtney’s expression became unreadable. "That’s what everyone thought."

Rowan’s hands trembled. "You were there."

"I was."

"The fire..."

Courtney looked away for a moment, then back at her. "It was a bad night."

Rowan’s jaw tightened.

A bad night? That’s what she called it? Rowan’s memories returned with brutal clarity. She remembered the callous heat against her skin, and the fear that she was going to die.

And now Courtney stood in front of her as though none of it mattered.

Rowan’s fear slowly began turning into something else. Her fear turned into anger. Pure, burning anger.

Her fingers curled around the clothes in her arms.

"Stop lying."

Courtney raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"You were supposed to be dead."

Courtney shrugged. "People believe what they want."

Rowan’s breathing became heavier.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to grab Courtney. She wanted to demand every answer she had been denied, but something stopped her.

Instinct.

Courtney was dangerous.

Rowan knew that now. She had seen enough.

Whatever Courtney had been involved in before that night, Rowan knew one thing. This woman wasn’t someone she could cross.

Courtney looked at Rowan’s robe. "You came here for your hair?"

Rowan didn’t answer.

Courtney’s eyes moved toward her head.

Rowan instinctively stepped back.

Courtney noticed, and her lips curved faintly. "You’re afraid of me."

Rowan’s eyes narrowed.

Courtney walked past her, then stopped. She turned her head. "Tell Adrian I’m alive."

Rowan’s blood ran cold.

Courtney smiled. "He might finally believe how dangerous that is if he hears it from you."

She continued walking.

Rowan stared after her. "Why would I do that?"

Courtney stopped again. For several seconds, she didn’t turn around. Then she simply walked away.

Rowan’s stomach dropped. She remained frozen there, and couldn’t move, or think. The salon suddenly felt suffocating.

Her hand went instinctively to her stomach.

Courtney was alive.

Rowan’s eyes followed her disappearing figure. Hatred burned through her.

Courtney had walked away from that fire. She would not forgive her.

Not ever.

"Rowan?"

The stylist’s voice came from behind her.

Rowan didn’t answer.

"Are you okay?"

She finally turned. Her face had gone completely pale. "I..."

Her voice failed.

She swallowed. "I’m fine."

The stylist frowned. "You’ve been gone a while."

Rowan looked toward the salon entrance.

Courtney was already gone. Her heart hammered. "I just need a minute."

"Of course."

Rowan walked back toward her chair, but she didn’t sit down.

She stared at herself in the mirror. The robe hung loosely around her body, and her eyes looked different.

She blinked rapidly to her reflection. "How had she known ill be coming here today?" she whispered to herself as she turned back to the salon entrance.

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