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“Just stop, okay,” she said, leaning towards me. “Just sit down, and don’t think filthy things about me while I’m trying to do my job.”
“I won’t if you won’t,” I said.
She marched back to her station. Without wasting a moment, she started peaking in the little foil flaps on her client’s head, and when she stole a glance at me, her face turned bright red.
I smiled and lifted the flowers to my nose, burying my face in them like they were Lucy’s perfectly groomed snatch.
The hour I spent watching her flew by. After all, now that I felt like I was seeing her for the first time, there was so much to admire about her. Every time she engaged with someone else, they left smiling. Every time she marched across the floor, she did so with purpose.
In fact, she was incredibly sexy. Even when she was sweeping the hair around her station, she had a unique grace, a grace she’d somehow retained when she was spreading her legs for me and soaking my eager tongue.
“Ready?” I asked when she finally approached.
She nodded.
I led the way, opening the door for her.
She waved at the other girls on her way out and exhaled when we hit the sidewalk. “You can’t just show up at my job like that, Aiden.”
“Cause I’m too distracting?”
“Cause it’s not professional,” she said. “The younger girls get in trouble when guys hang around waiting for them.”
“Why?”
“Cause it interferes with the client experience.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize,” I said. “Well, if anyone complains, you can assure them that the only person I’m interested in interfering with is you.”
She shot me a look out of the corner of her eye. “What made you stop by anyway?”
I stepped up to the passenger side door and opened it. “I had to see you.”
She rolled her eyes and tucked her feet in the car. “You should’ve called.”
“I thought about it, but I was sort of uninspired by your last text,” I said, shutting the door.
“What are you talking about?” she asked as soon as I sat down beside her.
“What do you think? We have this incredible night on Saturday, and then you totally disappear without a trace. Well, that’s not true. You forgot your underwear.”
She pursed her lips.
“And then you don’t answer my text all day, even just to let me know you’re alright.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want an apology. I want an explanation. Didn’t you have a good time on Saturday?”
“Of course I did.”
“So why the third degree?”
“I just needed to process what happened.”
“What is there to process?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “We’ve never done anything like that before.”
“So?”
“So I guess I was just worried things would be weird between us.”
“Look,” I said. “I don’t want things to be weird either, but weird is not returning my messages. Weird is sneaking out of my apartment in the middle of the night.”
“I know,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. “But hooking up with each other is weird, too.”
“Yeah, but that’s good weird.”
