"Girl, you're gonna look so good." Tequila grinned at me from the edge of the bathroom mirror, her hands on her hips as she examined the hair dye and scissors spread out on the counter.

I stared at my reflection, still not sure if I was making the right call. But, honestly, nothing felt right lately. If cutting off my hair could make me feel like I was shedding some of this weight, then maybe that's what I needed.

Bonnie, who was sitting on the edge of the tub with her phone in her hands, glanced up and smiled. "Tequila's right. It's time to just do it."

Tequila's younger sister, Jasmine, was sitting on the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her as she flipped through a magazine. She was 16, and as usual, had that "cool" vibe about her that made everything she did seem effortless. "You should've done this a long time ago," she chimed in, glancing up at me. "You'll feel free. Just wait."

I couldn't help but laugh softly, biting my lip. "I don't know, guys. This is a big change. I've had this blonde hair for forever. What if I hate it?"

"You won't," Tequila insisted, giving me a reassuring look. "It's gonna be like a whole new you. Blonde is great and all, but you're not a blonde anymore, Avery. You're ready for this."

I hesitated for a moment, my fingers running through the length of my hair, the familiar soft waves that reached all the way down to my butt. It had been my signature look for as long as I could remember. But right now? It felt heavy. It felt like it was dragging me down, just like everything else. Maybe it was time to let go.

"Alright," I said, my voice a little shakier than I meant. "Let's do it."

Tequila moved quickly, her hands already parting sections of my hair as she pulled out the scissors. Bonnie shot me one last, supportive glance, and Jasmine gave me a thumbs-up before returning to her magazine.

The first snip was all it took. Tequila's scissors cut through my hair like butter, and I could feel the weight lifting immediately. It wasn't like anything else I'd done recently—this felt real. Like a real change. As the length of my blonde hair fell to the floor in chunks, I could almost feel the burden of the past few months falling away with it.

"Damn, girl," Tequila muttered, running her hands through the newly shortened strands. "You look good."

I glanced at myself in the mirror, blinking as I saw the black hair framing my face. It was sleek and shiny, so different from the wild blonde waves I was used to. And the side bangs added a whole new edge to it. The length was now at my boobs, a far cry from the waist-length blonde hair I'd once had. It was bold. It was fresh.

"I... I look different," I said softly, surprised at how much the change was already affecting me.

"You look fierce," Bonnie said with a grin, standing up from the tub to get a better look. "I think this is the best you've ever looked."

I couldn't help but smile, a little more confident in myself than I'd felt in a while. Maybe this new look was exactly what I needed to go along with the change I was trying to find within myself.

Chapter Two (Continued):

I couldn't help but touch my new hair, running my fingers through the soft, freshly cut strands. It felt lighter, freer. There was something empowering about cutting off the old, shedding the weight of it. As Tequila fluffed it up, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the girl looking back at me. My blonde hair was gone, replaced by deep, glossy black that framed my face in a way I'd never seen before. The side bangs added a sharpness to my features I didn't know I had.

"You're gonna be turning heads now," Tequila teased, taking a step back to admire her work. "But in all the right ways."

Jasmine, still sprawled out on the floor, gave me a thumbs-up. "You look like you're ready to kick ass."

I chuckled softly, but there was a part of me that was still trying to process the change. It felt like a step forward—like a break from all the stuff I was trying to outrun. Maybe this was the start of something new, of me finding my way again.

"Okay, okay," Bonnie said, moving closer to me. "Now you need an outfit to match. I'm thinking something dark, edgy. Let's make this transformation complete."

I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Maybe later. I just want to sit with it for a second."

Bonnie and Tequila exchanged a look, both of them nodding. I knew they understood. Sometimes, you needed time to let a change sink in, to get used to it. And I wasn't in any rush to jump into the next thing. For once, I just wanted to sit with the present and feel the newness.

Jasmine suddenly sat up, putting the magazine aside. "You guys wanna order some food? You're seriously not going anywhere looking this good without showing it off."

Bonnie snorted. "Always the one with the plan."

"Yeah, always," Jasmine said, smirking. "I'm thinking pizza or burgers. But you two can decide."

I smiled at the banter, the warmth of the moment pulling me out of my head. They were right. I needed to get out of my head and let myself just... be. I had made a change, something small, but it felt important, and maybe that was enough for today.

"I'm in for pizza," I said finally, breaking the silence.

Tequila grinned. "Good choice. Let's make sure to get all the toppings this time, none of that plain stuff."

Bonnie gave her a playful eye roll but agreed. "Fine, pizza it is. But we're getting a veggie one too. Balance, you know?"

I laughed, and for the first time in a long time, it felt easy. I wasn't thinking about everything that had happened or what I still had to deal with. I was just... here, in this moment, with my girls, feeling a little bit more like myself. Maybe the road ahead was still unclear, but for now, I was okay with that. Sometimes, change didn't have to mean all the answers—it could just mean a new start. And this? This felt like one.

The night seemed to stretch on as we made our way through the biker bar, the smell of gasoline, leather, and smoke thick in the air. The sounds of clinking bottles, laughter, and deep conversations filled the space, and the music rattled the walls—classic rock blending with the occasional newer track. It was a far cry from the high-energy clubs I had visited in the past, but the raw energy of this place was exactly what I needed. It was a distraction, something to keep my mind from wandering back to the mess of my life.

Tequila, always the one to lead the way, guided Bonnie and Jasmine toward the bar. I followed behind them, letting the noise and chaos fill the empty parts of my brain. For the first time in a long while, I wasn't thinking about the weight of everything.

But then, as I turned around, my stomach dropped.

There he was.

Sin.

He was standing against the far wall, laughing with a couple of guys, looking like he belonged in the bar. His dark hair was messier than usual, and that familiar leather jacket clung to his broad shoulders. But when I looked at him, my heart twisted in a way I wasn't prepared for.

I stood frozen for a moment, watching him from across the room. He looked the same—like he always had—untouched by time, unaffected. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, seeing him there stirred up feelings.

I slammed back a shot of whatever she poured, the alcohol burning my throat as it went down. I pointed to the bartender, signaling for another, and didn't even wait before downing that one, feeling the heat spread through my chest. I cleared my throat, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and readjusted my dress, pushing my boobs up a little more for good measure. My hair, freshly styled, felt like it was holding my entire look together—sleek, dark, and edgy, in contrast to the mess I had been for the past few weeks.

I wanted Everest to notice, to see how good I looked, to prove that I wasn't the same person he had walked away from. But as I adjusted my dress one more time, a pang of guilt hit me. He had spent the last two weeks trying to pull me back to something normal, something stable. And I, stubborn as I was, had kept pushing him away. I had fought him, defied everything he said, even when all he was trying to do was help me. It was like second nature to push back, even when I didn't really want to.

I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders before making my way through the crowd toward him. Every step felt calculated, like I was trying to prove something to him—or maybe just to myself. When I reached him, I paused, standing tall and giving him a moment to look me over. His gaze flicked to me for a split second, and I saw the briefest flash of surprise in his eyes before it turned to that unreadable mask I was starting to hate.

He didn't say anything at first, just took a slow drag from his cigarette, and I felt the silence between us stretch.

"Nice look," he finally muttered, his tone flat.

I forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "Thanks. It's different, huh?"

He nodded once, looking away as if trying to avoid the intensity in my gaze. "Yeah, definitely different."

The words stung more than I expected, and I had to fight the urge to turn and walk away, but I didn't. I stood there, the energy between us thickening, the tension impossible to ignore.

"I'm sorry, Sin," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, still looking down at my fingers as they nervously twist around each other. "I know you're just trying to protect me..."

There's a long pause before his voice cuts through the air, low and almost dangerously calm. "What'd I tell ya about lookin' at me when you talk to me, sweetheart?"

Before I can even react, he lifts my chin with one hand, his fingers warm against my skin. Our faces are so close now, just inches apart, and I can feel his presence overwhelming me. His eyes are locked on mine, and I can smell the whiskey on his breath, sharp and hot as it fans across my face. It's familiar, and even though I know it shouldn't, there's something about it that turns me on, something in the way his presence commands the space between us.

I swallow hard, feeling my pulse pick up, and for a moment, it's like time stops. I don't know if I'm doing this out of defiance or because there's still a part of me that can't let go of him, of us.

I can't help myself. I lean in, drawn to his warmth, the heat radiating from him. My body moves closer, my eyes fluttering up to meet his, big and wide like I'm a doe caught in his gaze. His grip on my chin tightens just a little, his thumb brushing over my skin in a way that sends a shiver down my spine.

"You really are something else, you know that?" he mutters, his voice barely above a breath, his lips so close to mine I can almost taste them.

I don't say anything. I don't need to. The tension between us is enough. Everything I've been trying to suppress—the guilt, the anger, the hurt—it's all suddenly right there, simmering beneath the surface. But the pull of his presence, of him being so close, is so much stronger than anything else. And I can't bring myself to pull away.

The thumping bass of the music vibrates through my chest, the low hum of guitars and drums mixing with the chatter and laughter of the crowd. The air in the bar is thick with smoke and heat, bodies moving around us, but it feels like we're in our own little world—just him and me. Everything else is distant, drowned out by the steady pulse of the beat and the sudden sharpness of his touch.

I'm not sure what I'm expecting, but my heart races anyway. Every inch of my skin is alive with the energy we've created, and I can feel his breath against my lips, teasing, waiting. He's so close, I can almost taste the whiskey on his tongue, the mix of heat and something darker.

Sin doesn't move, but I can see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flicker with something I can't read. It's a challenge, almost like he's daring me to step over the line again. His hand doesn't leave my chin, and the weight of it makes me feel small, makes me feel like I'm teetering on the edge of something dangerous. I don't know if I should lean in further or pull away, but all I can do is stay in this moment, stuck in the intensity of it all.

I finally find my voice, though it's quieter than I intended. "Sin... why are you making this so hard?" The words slip out before I can stop them, and I instantly regret it. Why am I letting him have this much control? Why do I want him to?

His thumb brushes over my lip, his eyes flicking down to my mouth before meeting my gaze again. "Because you make it hard, sweetheart," he murmurs, his tone rough. "You think you can just walk in here, looking like that, and not expect me to react?"

The challenge in his voice makes something inside me stir, and for a second, I feel like I've lost all control. "You think I'm doing this for you?" I snap, almost a reflex, but I don't pull away. If anything, I lean closer, craving the heat that only he can give.

Sin laughs softly, but there's no amusement in it. "You're damn right, I think that. Because every move you make... you make it for me, even if you don't want to admit it."

I'm so close now, I can feel the heat radiating off of him, the mix of his cologne and liquor making everything around us hazy, blurred. There's no denying it anymore. The pull between us is undeniable, but I can't figure out whether I want to push him away or fall into him completely. Either way, I'm already tangled up in him.

I'm so close now, I can feel the heat radiating off of him, the mix of his cologne and liquor making everything around us hazy, blurred. There's no denying it anymore. The pull between us is undeniable, but I can't figure out whether I want to push him away or fall into him completely. Either way, I'm already tangled up in him.

Just as I lean in, my heart pounding in my chest, a hand grabs my arm, yanking me back. The moment breaks, and I stumble slightly, my gaze snapping away from Sin to see Brooke standing there, wide-eyed and looking like she's about to lose her mind.

"Oh my fucking god, you actually did not," she blurts out, her eyes scanning me up and down, taking in the black hair, the side bangs, the edgy new vibe that's a far cry from the Avery she used to know.

I blink, caught off guard by her sudden appearance and the shock in her voice. "What the hell are you talking about?" I try to laugh it off, but my heart's still racing, my body still reacting to the closeness I'd had with Sin.

"You cut your fucking hair and changed your entire look," Brooke continues, shaking her head, clearly in disbelief. "I mean, girl, you look... damn, you look like a different person. What the hell happened?"

Before I can respond, she pulls me a little further away from the crowd, closer to the bar where the noise isn't as overwhelming. Her eyes are still wide with astonishment, her mouth hanging open in a mixture of shock and approval.

"You didn't just cut it," she says slowly, as if she's processing what she's seeing. "You transformed it. It's like you became a whole new person."

I run my fingers through my now-short, jet-black hair, still getting used to the dramatic change. The reality of it is only just hitting me too. It feels freeing in a way, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, but at the same time, I'm not sure if I'm ready to face it all head-on.

"Yeah, well, I needed a change," I mutter, feeling a little defensive. "Thought it was time to stop looking like a ghost of myself."

Brooke's jaw drops. "A ghost? Baby, you look like you're ready to burn this place down. Seriously, I don't know if I should be impressed or terrified."

I glance back toward Sin, whose gaze is still on me from across the room, his expression unreadable. There's a brief moment where I wonder if I should feel embarrassed or proud, but then I push the thought away. I don't want to overthink it.

I sit there, trying to keep my head from spinning, the pounding music and chaotic energy of the bar feeling like a distant echo. Brooke's laughter fades as she's swept away by Austin, the two of them disappearing into the crowd, and I'm left sitting at the table, trying to hold it together.

My limbs feel heavy, and I press my hand to my forehead, trying to steady myself. I'm definitely more drunk than I realized. The room seems to shift with every blink, and my attempts to focus on anything just make everything worse.

I lean back in my chair, letting out a long breath, hoping the world will stop spinning. But then, I feel a presence nearby, and I don't even have to look up to know who it is. The warm scent of cologne fills my nose before I see Everest standing there, looking down at me with that signature smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, well, well," he says, his voice playful but with that teasing edge I recognize. "Looks like someone's had a little too much fun tonight."

I blink at him, my brain slow to process. "I'm fine," I slur, trying to sit up straighter, but instead, I wobble a little in my seat. I quickly grab the edge of the table to steady myself, feeling heat rise to my cheeks as I try to play it cool.

He chuckles, leaning down just a little so that we're eye to eye, his smile turning into something more mischievous. "Yeah, sure you are," he teases. "Come on, let's get you out of here before you end up dancing with the floor."

I try to protest, but all I can manage is a soft, "I'm fine," before my body betrays me and I nearly tip over. Everest laughs, not even slightly concerned, and easily grabs me by the waist, lifting me to my feet without much effort.

"Come on, pretty girl," he says with a wink

I try to stand on my own, but my legs are wobbly, and I end up leaning into him for support, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. He wraps an arm around me with that same easy confidence, and I can't help but laugh a little.

"Is this what you call 'helping'?" I ask, my words still slurred, but a grin tugging at the corner of my lips.

Everest looks down at me, his grin playful as ever. "Well, I'd say you're lucky I'm here, because without me, you'd probably be making best friends with the floor."

I roll my eyes but can't help laughing, even though my head is still swimming. "You're so full of it."

"Maybe," he says, his voice light and teasing.

He helps me through the crowd, the music thumping in the background, and for the first time all night, I feel a little bit of relief. His playful banter is the perfect distraction from the spinning world around me, and I can't help but appreciate his easygoing attitude.

As we make our way out of the bar, I'm trying to keep my feet steady, but the world is still spinning, and every step feels like I'm walking on a tightrope. Everest's arm is around me, guiding me through the crowd with surprising ease. His teasing banter keeps me distracted, but my stomach? Not so much.

I try to push the nausea down, hoping I can make it to the truck without incident. But it's no use. The moment we step outside into the cool air, the familiar burn in the back of my throat flares up, and before I can even think to warn him, I lean forward and puke.

Right onto Everest's shoes.

I freeze, my eyes wide with horror. I'm so embarrassed that I almost wish I could just disappear into the ground. But Everest? He doesn't look angry.

He looks... amused.

"Seriously?" he says, his voice laced with laughter as he glances down at his shoes. "You really had to make this a dramatic exit, huh?"

I stare down at the mess, mortified. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," I mutter, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Everest lets out a big sigh as he gently helps me into the passenger side of his truck, clearly still processing the whole situation. I'm barely able to keep my eyes open, and my head lolls against the cold window, the chill helping to clear some of the fog in my brain. The rumble of the engine is soothing, but my stomach is still doing flips, and I focus on trying not to get sick again.

The ride feels like it takes forever, even though I know it's only a few minutes down the dirt path to our house. The headlights cut through the darkness, and the familiar trees and overgrown grass blur as we move past them, the rhythmic sound of the truck's tires on the gravel almost hypnotic.

I barely register when he pulls into the driveway, but I can feel the truck come to a stop. For a split second, I wish I could just stay in the truck, let the world go on without me, but Everest doesn't give me the chance to linger in that thought.

"Avery wa—" he started, but before he could finish his sentence, I had already opened the door. I barely registered the movement before gravity took over, and I tumbled out of the truck, landing on the ground with a soft thud.

For a split second, everything went silent. My head was spinning, and my limbs felt like jelly. I blinked a few times, trying to get my bearings, but all I could see was the dark sky above me and the cold earth beneath. My stomach churned, and I groaned, wishing I could just disappear into the ground.

"Avery!" Everest's voice cut through the haze as I felt his hands grip my arms, lifting me up gently. "You're lucky you didn't knock yourself out, huh?"

I didn't even have the energy to respond, just letting him pull me to my feet. My body swayed slightly, and I immediately leaned into him, trying to steady myself. "I'm fine," I slurred, though I could feel the weight of the alcohol still dragging me down.

He let out a small, amused sigh. "Yeah, right. You're fine." His hands were steadying me, one arm around my waist as he guided me toward the house, his tone light but with a hint of concern that I couldn't quite ignore.

By the time we reached the front door, I was barely able to hold myself up, my head pounding and everything feeling like a blur. He opened the door for me, practically half-carrying me inside.

"I swear, Avery," he muttered with a shake of his head, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement, "if you don't stop getting yourself into trouble, I might just have to start charging you for all the rescues."

I barely heard him, just letting myself lean against him as he helped me inside. I couldn't focus enough to think about anything other than the dizzying feeling in my head and how grateful I was that he was here to pull me out of the mess I'd created.

his steady presence a much-needed anchor in my spinning world. The door shut behind us with a quiet click, and I leaned against him, my head still swimming with the aftermath of too many drinks and too many mistakes.

He led me to the couch and sat me down gently, his hands lingering on my shoulders for a moment. "You good?" he asked, his voice soft but firm.

I nodded, even though I wasn't sure. "Yeah. Just... tired."

"Yeah, I can see that." He gave me a small grin, but his eyes held a trace of something else—something that felt like concern, wrapped up in the usual teasing tone. "You gonna be alright?"

"Think so," I murmured, my eyelids growing heavy. "Thanks for... not leaving me out there. And for everything else."

"Don't mention it," he said, his voice gentle as he stood up to grab a blanket from the couch. As Everest covered me with the blanket, I let out a deep sigh and let my body relax into the couch. The tension that had been building up for so long seemed to melt away just a little, the warmth of the room and the softness of the blanket wrapping around me like a shield.

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself feel safe enough to fall asleep—no questions, no worries. Just the quiet rhythm of the night and the faint sound of Everest moving around in the background.

This night might've been a mess, but at least I wasn't alone.

And with that thought, sleep finally took over.