Chapter 4

CHRIS

"I don't know, just...shorter, I guess?"

The girl at the salon tilts her head at me in the mirror. "Shorter like...trim the ends? Clean the shape? Or shorter like 'my crush doesn't love me yet and I'm spiraling' short?"

I blink.

She smirks. "Babe, I've been doing this job long enough to know the signs."

I sigh dramatically. "Okay. Fine. Short-short. Like...middle part, above-the-ear, summer reset, maybe-she'll-finally-kiss-me short."

She laughs. "Say less."

Thirty-five minutes later, I look like a whole new man.

The curls are still there, but they sit higher now. My neck feels weirdly cold. My cheekbones are out here serving. My forehead? Suddenly in her renaissance era. I run my hands through it and stare at the mirror.

"You look hot," the stylist says. "She's gonna freak."

I want to say I hope so, but I just nod and tip extra.

I don't tell the boys I'm coming home. I want her to see.

I want her to look at me like she does when I laugh too hard or when she thinks I'm not paying attention like I'm the only star in the sky.

Because God knows that's how I look at her.

COVA

Nick is pacing the kitchen like he's plotting a murder. Probably emotional, probably unnecessary.

Matt's editing with headphones on, silently sipping a matcha like the serene little cryptid he is.

I'm standing at the sink, hair in a lazy bun, wearing Chris's other hoodie (yes, the brown one with the bleach stain) and humming "Golden" under my breath.

Nick suddenly freezes.

"Do not freak out," he says, eyes wide.

"What?" I blink.

Chris walks in.

And I freak out.

Like. Full. System. Reboot.

He's wearing black sweats, his chain, and a white tee that should be illegal. But the hair.

It's...short. Like short-short. Like sculpted curls framing his forehead, middle-parted, skater-boy soft boy lethal short.

I blink again. My jaw might actually be open. I'm not sure. Time is fake.

"Hey," he says, casual. Smug. Dangerous.

I just stare.

"Cova," Matt says, not looking up. "Breathe."

"I'm trying," I whisper, still staring. "He looks like a boyfriend reveal. Like the final season glow-up of a man who's been hot this whole time but just unlocked new cheat codes."

Chris smirks. "You good?"

"No," I say immediately.

He walks over slow, confident, criminal and leans on the counter next to me.

"What do you think?"

I look up at him and physically fight the urge to touch his face.

"You look-" My voice cracks. I cough. "You look...really good."

His eyes soften, and suddenly the kitchen feels smaller.

"You sure?" he teases. "You're acting like I walked in shirtless."

"I think this might be worse," I breathe.

Nick literally throws a dish towel. "That's it. I'm staging an intervention. You two are one compliment away from dry humping in the spice aisle."

"Nick," Matt says calmly, "do we even have a spice aisle?"

Chris hasn't taken his eyes off me.

I haven't stopped blushing since he walked in.

He tilts his head (which he can now do, effortlessly, thanks to the haircut that's probably going to haunt my dreams), and says, "You keep looking at me like I changed species."

I nod, dazed. "You did."

And then, because I can't help myself I reach up and touch his hair. Just a little. Just a soft curl near his temple. My fingers brush his skin and he freezes.

His breath catches. I pretend not to notice. (I absolutely notice.)

"It's soft," I say.

"You're dangerous," he says.

🧡

CHRIS

I'm not okay.

Her fingers in my hair? The way she's looking at me like she wants to write poetry about my cheekbones? I'm two seconds away from either kissing her or blacking out.

And then she says it.

"I like it," she says, soft and real. "It makes your face look more...you."

I blink. "More me?"

She nods. "The version of you that people don't always see. The one who gets quiet when he's nervous. The one who listens more than he lets on. The one who makes me feel safe without even trying."

My heart. Stops. Moves. Explodes. All at once.

I almost say it.

I almost say I'm in love with her.

But then Matt clears his throat and Nick mutters "EMOTION DETECTED," and the spell breaks.

Cova giggles, all soft sunshine and oblivious affection, and reaches for the oat milk like she didn't just peel back my entire ribcage and look inside.

"You look good, though," she says one last time. "Like...dangerously good."

She leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. Just a little one. Barely there.

And I'm gone.

🧡

House of unhinged

Covahi this is a formal notice that Chris's hair is a national threatsomeone hold my hand or my dignity will leave my body

Chrisyou kissed me and then said someone hold my hand????

NickTHAT'S IT I'M ORDERING A GIANT "JUST DATE ALREADY" BANNER ON ETSY

Mattdo it. i'll help hang it.

🧡

My thoughts Hey guys, I just wanted to pop in and ask if there's anything you want me to include like angst or something to keep you entertained so let me know please! I also want to add that there will be sexual innuendo but absolutely no smut whatsoever. Thank you!