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“What makes you think she’ll get hurt?” He arches his brow like the answer to that question is the easiest possible one. “Maybe, I’ll be the one hurt.”
This makes him laugh, and if he wasn’t one of my best friends I may have wiped the grin off his face.
“Just do me a favor, and don’t play with her head. She’s too sweet for that.”
Liam lifts his hose up and places it in the side compartment before walking off ending the conversation.
I’m left with his words hanging heavy in the air. My stomach in knots over what the people I care most about, actually think of me. Yeah, I’ve managed to keep my relationships with women limited and detached. I’m not some asshole who sets out to break the hearts of innocent women. Everyone I’ve ever been with knew where it was going or not going from the start. I never lied, never made promises I couldn’t keep.
I lift my hose, throwing it up and stacking it in tight next to the others. Closing the door, I latch it and move to the front of the station. Stepping outside the front open garage door, I lean against the frame, crossing my arms over my chest. My mind racing, my thoughts jumbled with a mixture of what I want and what I should do. The problem is I think somehow over the last several days those two have gotten intertwined and what I should do, may also be what I want and more importantly, what I need.
* * *
It’s late, just before five when I push through the front entrance of Indulge Salon. The scent of hair products, oils, hairspray and fruity shit hits me like a wall. There is only one woman in the salon chair, Hannah, a stylist and a Calloway long timer standing behind her working on said woman’s hair.
Glancing up she offers me a smile. “Hey there Tyler, you looking to get a perm?”
Instinctively I lift my hand and run it through my long hair, smiling at her.
“Nah,” I chuckle. “I don’t think I could pull off curls.”
“With a face like that I think you could pull off just about anything.” Offering me a wink she gets back to work, and I see movement to my right.
Amara has stepped out from the back, her arms full of towels and a few bottles of what appears to be shampoo.
Immediately I step in close and take the bottles from her.
“Thanks,” her voice is low, and if I’m not mistaken a little shaky.
I watch and wait as she places the rolled towels onto a shelf, doing her best it seems not to make eye contact. I wish more than anything that I didn’t make her so nervous. When she’s done with the placement of the towels she turns and points to the bottles, which I hold out to her.
I step back allowing her more space and she steps around me and starts back toward the back again. I follow, though I’m not sure she wants me to, but something has got to give with us. Whatever it takes for us to get over this awkwardness I’ll do it.
Amara pauses near the dryer and looks back over her shoulder. “I know you’re not here to get something done with your hair.”
“Are you saying I need something done with my hair?”
She offers me a smile. I feel the effect of it settle deep in my chest. “You could use a haircut.”
“Just got it cut.” I counter and she shakes her head.
“You and your hair, honestly you are worse than a woman.”
“If I’m not mistaken I think you like my hair,” I move into her side and lean my shoulder to the wall, getting a better view of her face.
“Are we going to talk about what happened at the resort?” Because it's all I can think about.
Amara opens the dryer door and starts to sort through the towels, folding them and avoiding my stare.
“How long are we going to pretend what happened between us didn’t happen?” I want to reach out and touch her, but I hold back.
“What’s there to talk about, we spent the night together?”
“I’m aware, I was there and very present.” She glances over at me, and I waggle my brows hoping to trigger a smile from her.
“Really?” She narrows her eyes at my innuendo, making me chuckle. “You were drunk.” She insists with her own smirk.
“I wasn’t that drunk,” finally giving in to the urge to touch her I reach out and move away the hair that has fallen forward, my fingertip grazing her jaw. “I remember more than you think I do.”
