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Yes. No. I don’t know!!
Piper: He clearly asked you for a reason. I have to go pick up Dolly, but call me later. I want to hear all about it.
“Oh, come on, Ellie.” I finally straightened.Piper’s right.“It’ll grow back, or he can get it done professionally.”
I smiled at my reflection, feeling more confident. I grabbed my supplies and carried them downstairs. While I laid everything out next to the trimmer, scissors, comb, and spray bottle, Tristan stood behind me to observe.
“You sure you have time for this?”
“It’s fine.” I smiled over my shoulder at him, sucking in a breath when I realized just how close he was standing. “I needed a break anyway.”
I turned my attention back to the counter, hoping he didn’t notice the way my hands shook. “Ooh. Should we take a before and after picture?”
He groaned. “What have I gotten myself into?”
“I promise not to post them online. Unless you’d be cool with that.”
He took a seat on one of the barstools and ran a hand through his hair. I was already trying to envision what he’d look like once I was done. “I’m not sure I fit your aesthetic.”
“What?” I jerked my head back, fighting a smile. Had he checked out my social media? “Are you kidding? My followers would go crazy for you.”
Especially now. One bare foot was propped up on a rung of the stool, his body relaxed. He had one hand planted on his jean-clad thigh, the contours of his chest visible beneath his soft gray T-shirt.
He laughed. “I’m a bit old for your followers, don’t you think?”
Was he asking if he was too old for them or me? I wanted to believe it was the latter.
“I don’t think so.” I wasn’t talking about my followers. Age didn’t matter, at least not to me. But I got the feeling it could be a sticking point for Tristan, especially considering his previous comments about my not even being twenty-one.
I went to the pantry and grabbed the honey and brown sugar. I put them in a little bowl and started mixing them up.
“Here,” I said, handing it to him. “Wash your face with warm water and then spread this over your skin in gentle, circular motions.”
He stared at my hands then me. “Are we baking cookies or doing a facial?”
“Ha-ha.” I placed my hand on my hip and pointed at the sink.
He stared down at the bowl again. “You really want me to put this on my face?”
“It’s all part of the experience. I’ll do it too if it’ll make you feel better.” I went over to the sink and started the water, waiting for it to warm. “Trust me. It will tasteandfeel good. Your skin will thank you.”
He stood and joined me at the sink. “If you say so.”
I grinned. “I know so. Here—” I handed him a washcloth, and we both rinsed our faces then started to apply the homemade exfoliant. “A little gentler.” I demonstrated. “And put some on your lips too.”
He licked his lips and smiled. “Mm. That does taste good.”
“See!” I rinsed my hands. “Who doesn’t want soft, kissable lips?”
His eyes darted to my lips, then my eyes, then away. If he wasn’t thinking about kissing before, I had a feeling we both were now.
“Okay,” I said, trying to get us back on track. “Now, use the cloth to wash it off.”
Once that was done, I mashed up some avocado with olive oil. Tristan watched me, his expression wary. “Don’t tell me…”
“Yep! We’re going to moisturize now.” God, this was too fun. His reactions were so amusing.
“We’ll let it sit for about twenty minutes.”
