He heaved a great sigh and I noted the goose bumps on his skin remained the entire time.
After I was done I towel-dried his hair and directed him back to my station where I combed it, blasted it for a few seconds with the dryer, and then styled it so it was effortlessly messy.
“All done,” I said, peeling away the pink cape and ignoring the feeling of regret because it was time for him to leave.
He sat there for long moments, looking at me like he wanted to say something, but then he got up. “Thanks,” he said and then went toward the receptionist without a backward glance.
Clearly the chemistry I felt before had been my imagination.
I didn’t look his way again; instead, I cleaned up the hair from the floor and put away my tools. I glanced at my watch. I still had a couple hours left before I could go home. I wished this day was over. I was ready to go home, eat a pint of ice cream, and wallow.
Wallow over one stinking date.
Yes, I was pathetic.
But it had been a really good date.
I had several minutes before my next client arrived so I focused on my reflection in the mirror. My blond hair was a little longer than chin length and it was styled in a messy little bob. Some of the strands flipped out around my face and I had side-swept bangs that drew attention to my blue eyes—not nearly as deep and blue as his were.
Part of me wondered if the color of his eyes was what inspired his name.
No thinking about him! I told myself and directed my attention back to the mirror. My cheeks were slightly flushed against my clear, creamy complexion, my nose was small and straight, and my full pink lips could use a little lip-gloss. I bent, fishing the gloss out of my bag, and when I stood back up, he was there.
“Blue,” I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest.
“For you,” he said, laying some folded bills on the station.
My heart thundered in my chest, and if I squeezed the gloss any tighter, it was going to explode. “Thanks,” I murmured, breathless. Why was he standing so close?
He reached out and cupped his large, warm hand over my elbow and stepped a little closer. He brought his lips right up beside my ear.
“You’re not so easy to forget,” he whispered.
I sucked in a breath and my mouth ran dry. The room actually went a little blurry. I blinked, focusing on the spot where he stood.
But he was gone.
I stared at the door for a long time, his whispered words echoing through my head.
2
Blue
I received confirmation today. Confirmation that she was definitely pissed off at me. I hadn’t been surprised by that. But I was surprised by the intensity of her anger. Even after all these weeks, she was still mad I never called.
That also confirmed something else.
She still wanted me.
The chemistry between us was undeniable. From the minute I stepped into that salon, she was all I could see. All I could feel.
She tried to act like she didn’t care, like I was just some guy she met once. But she couldn’t fool me. I caught the way she would look at me and then force away her eyes. The way she took extra care with her tools and scissors before getting started.
God, I could still smell her honeysuckle scent that practically wrapped around me every single time she leaned so close. Thank God for that stupid pink cape. It covered up the parts of me that had trouble hiding my strong and lusty reaction to her.
I’d been getting my hair cut all my life, but never, not one time had it ever given me a hard-on. I thought back to the way her perky, full breasts brushed against me when she sometimes moved. The way her black top clung to her narrow hips and her black and white skirt flirted with her ankles and hugged her tight ass. It made me itch to grab her, to pull her into my lap…
She looked as good as I remembered. Better, in fact. Her hair was golden blond with streaks of very light blond. The way it flipped out around her face drove me crazy. It was like she walked around with permanent bedhead, and all I could think about was what she would look like spread out across my sheets.
Her lips were full and ripe, like a juicy peach, and her blue-gray eyes were muted like the sky on a cloudy day. She seemed smaller than I remembered, though she wasn’t wearing high-heeled boots like the time I took her out. Right before I left, I actually had to lean down to whisper in her ear, and it made me want to curl around her protectively.
But she didn’t need protection. Julie was a girl with a set of claws on her. I noted today that they were painted a very eye-catching pink. I wondered how much work it was going to be to get her to retract those claws.
Would it even be worth the headache I knew she would cause me?
Maybe I should let it go, chalk it up to bad timing, and ask someone else out.
Even as I thought it, my body revolted against the thought. Yeah, I could ask someone else out, but it wouldn’t be the one I really wanted. I had spent weeks, months even, thinking about her, drawing up her face and the sound of her laugh whenever life got too dark or too stressful for me to deal. Without even knowing it, she’d quickly and irrevocably became the place my mind drifted whenever I needed some sort of comfort.