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“The braid.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I think it’ll be easier if I practice on actual hair. No offense to the doll.”

I looked at the doll. Then I looked at him. He wasn’t asking for anything crazy, but the idea sent an uncomfortable curl of warmth through my stomach.

A memory flashed through my head with startling clarity. His fist in my hair, his mouth crushed against mine. The hard, hungry press of his hips pinning me in place.

The warmth turned to liquid heat. A flush crept across my skin, and I hoped he couldn’t hear the sudden, panicked drum of my pulse. “Um, sure.”

I sat on the ottoman with my back facing him. A mirror hung on the opposite wall, allowing me to watch what he was doing.

Noah stood and came up behind me. His muscled frame was so tall and broad it nearly filled the entire reflection. Tingles ran down my spine as he ran his fingers through my hair, his brow furrowed with concentration. His body heat was inescapable, enveloping my senses and awakening every nerve ending in my body.

I pressed my thighs together and stared straight ahead with dogged determination. I was not going to sexualize this.

This was styling practice. That was it.

The air slowly returned to my lungs as Noah followed my earlier instructions. He paused now and then to check his work, but his touch was firm and steady.

“Tell me something about you,” he said partway into the session.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything.” He separated and weaved the last section of hair with surprising precision. “Tell me about your family and childhood.”

My belly fluttered. I didn’t know why his interest in my life was so disarming, but I hadn’t talked about my childhood in a while. It took a moment to gather my thoughts. “Well, I was born and raised in Liverpool. My dad owns a Vietnamese restaurant, and my mom teaches statistics at the local uni. My childhood was…normal. I went to school, hung out with friends, and helped out at my dad’s restaurant on the weekends. It was pretty uneventful, except for the time I snuck out to a party when I was fifteen and ended up stranded across town because I lost my wallet and my ride ditched me to hook up with some guy. I had to call my parents to come get me. It was humiliating.”

Noah huffed out a small laugh. “You, sneaking out to a party? Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey, I was peer pressured into attending, okay?” I wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “But after they made sure I was okay, my parents were so mad. They almost canceled our family trip that year. They aren’t big travelers—my dad is scared of flying—but every few years, we’d splurge on a big vacation. That year, we were supposed to go to Australia. I’d been looking forward to it for ages, and I was devastated when they said I couldn’t go. I begged and pleaded, and they eventually relented. I think it was because the hotels were non-refundable. Anyway, it ended up being one of my favorite trips ever. I did get a little seasick during a boat ride and threw up over the side. The hot captain gave me candy afterward to make me feel better. Teenage me thought that meant he was in love with me.”

Which…hmm…suggested my romantic delusions started way before the Danny Lee debacle.

“Understandable. Nothing says love like candy and vomit,” Noah deadpanned.

Our eyes met in the mirror. I made a face at him, and he gave me a little smirk before he shifted his attention back to my hair.

“Anyway, the rest of my teen years were boring,” I said. “It was quite a letdown. I grew up on all these books and movies about great loves and adventures, and I wanted that too. But in order to get it, I had to leave my comfort zone. My parents wanted me to stay close to home for uni, but I knew that if I stayed, I’d hang out with the same people I’d always hung out with and live the same life I’d always lived. That was the worst thing I could’ve imagined. So I moved to London, and I’ve been here since.”

“What did you study in uni?”

“Art history. I worked in a gallery after graduation, but I quickly found out it wasn’t for me. I liked the art, but I hated dealing with the people in that world.”

“And did you find them?”

“Find what?”

“The great loves. The great adventures.”

My breath stilled, trapped beneath the heavy pounding of my heart. “No,” I said softly. “Not yet.”

Our eyes found each other again. I was wearing a tank top, and what breath I had left vanished when his fingers grazed the bare skin on my back. I couldn’t fight a shiver of pleasure, or the way my nipples hardened into aching points.

Noah’s gaze darkened. Tiny embers of heat flickered in its depths, burning away the remnants of our easy conversation. The silence was so thick, so charged, that it pulsed in my blood.

I licked my lips, my throat dry with desire, and his eyes dipped to my mouth for a fraction of a second. A muscle twitched in his jaw before the heat in his gaze was submerged beneath pools of cool green.

“That’s too bad.” He stepped back, his voice rough but his expression indifferent. Icy air rushed to fill the void of his presence. “There. All done.”

I nodded, my mind still hazy around the edges. I didn’t trust myself to speak.