“Any other famous people going to appear?” I asked, stirring my fork through the midnight meal. “If so, I kind of need time to mentally prepare myself.”
“I hope not.” He sat down once more, heaping his fork. “You know they’re just normal people with high-profile jobs, right?”
“Yes, but they have that famous-people thing about them.”
He raised a brow. “In that case, don’t I have that thing?”
“No,” I said. “I’ve lived with you. You are neither glossy and lit from within nor mysterious and otherworldly. Like Mae. Or Mal, even if he is crazy.”
“The only thing mysterious about Mal is how someone hasn’t snapped and killed him yet.”
I laughed.
We ate in silence for a while, the scissors sitting on the counter between us like both a promise and a threat. Maybe I shouldn’t have offered to cut his hair, despite it badly needing a trim and then some. Cutting hair was my job, but it still involved touching. Not always pleasant, but not usually something that resulted in an existential crisis on my part. Normally the touching component wasn’t something I gave a great deal of thought to, due to having a professional attitude, etcetera. However, I wasn’t certain I should be getting within six feet of this particular male. And yet, on the other hand, I couldn’t help but feel a smidgeon of proprietary attachment to both the man and his hair. God, this was complicated. Feelings were the worst.
“What?” he asked with a raised brow, the bowl of food in front of him already almost empty. He started gathering up the dirty plates and putting them into the sink. The leftovers went into the fridge. A nice show of newfound domestic abilities.
“Finish up and I’ll do your hair, then I better get going.”
“You want to leave?”
“You want me to stay?”
“I already said as much.”
I licked my lips. “Thought you just meant for an hour or two, not the night.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
As if that told me anything. Ugh. And then a random and slightly scary thought occurred to me. I stood tall and raised my chin. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“You’re not, huh?”
“Nope.”
“I find it interesting that that was where your mind went, because who said anything about sex?” It was like the word sex hung in the hair between us, his tone of voice a dare. If he hadn’t been thinking about it before then, he sure as hell was now. “Maybe you missed me more than you’re letting on.”
No wonder I couldn’t find my balance with him. He switched from seemingly sweet and innocent to blatant and porny in the blink of an eye. His gaze darkened and he stared me down, taking me in with seemingly infinite patience. And there was such intimacy in his eyes. Such knowledge of me and us and every damn thing we’d ever done together. Because irrespective of everything else that hadn’t worked in our relationship, the sex had always worked. Despite the heat in my cheeks, I couldn’t have looked away if I tried. Next, a shiver worked its way down my spine, every inch of me suddenly hyper-aware of the skin I was in. Of the heaviness in my breasts and ache between my legs. Stupid hormones and body.
For so damn long, the male race in its entirety had left me cold and unmoved. After getting my heart smashed, it had been a bit of a relief to take a break. But now…how could I have forgotten?
Talk about unfair. The man was beautiful.
I swallowed hard. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“You’re staring.”
“So are you.” Then he smiled as if something had been decided. I did not trust that smile. It was a sly sort of thing, suggesting he remembered full well what I looked like naked but wouldn’t mind a refresher if I’d be so kind as to disrobe. Damn him and his heated looks. I did not need this sort of confusion in my life.
“Fine,” I said with way too much going on inside me. “Whatever. As long as you know nothing is happening between us. I’m not here for anything like that. Just to cut the split ends off your hair and shave a zero off that check. That’s all.”
“Okay,” he said, face a careful blank.
“Great. Glad we got that sorted.”
“You know what I just realized?” he asked, standing and pulling his tee over his head. Just getting half-naked as if that were in any way acceptable and flashing the upper half of his lean hard body at me. The bastard. All of his ink and smooth skin and…oh my God I was melting inside. At this rate I’d be a puddle of girl goo in no time.