She heard his words, recognized them as permission to go forward, but in that moment, she couldn’t pull her hands back. She wanted to be closer to him, not farther away. Her massage had brought color to his cheeks and a drowsy cast to his dark, dark eyes. His lips had never looked so kissable. The need to kiss him grew into a wild craving, urging her to crawl right onto his lap, press her body against his, and take, take, take.
She wrenched herself away before she could do something she’d regret and took a moment to gather her thoughts. This was a haircut. That was it. His words echoed in her head, a reminder.
You. Have. To. Stop. Do you understand? You. Have. To. Stop.
If he wanted more, he would have to make the first move. She couldn’t do it.
The coldness of the scissors grounded her, and her mind sharpened into focus like a surgeon’s did when they picked up a scalpel. All things considered, Kh?i had been really tolerant of her, and he was taking her to hunt for her dad today. This was a good thing to do in return, and she wanted to do it well.
Moving to stand behind him, she said, “I’m starting.”
“Okay.”
But just like before, she had difficulty making the first move. He couldn’t see her from here. What if she surprised him and ruined this whole thing before it began?
She held her left hand by his ear. “Can you put my hand in your hair?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder, gave her a puzzled smile, and pressed her hand to his hair before facing forward again.
Her motions were tentative at first, but she gained confidence with every snip of the scissors. She gathered his hair between her fingers, taking care to keep the tension tight, cut, and smoothed her fingers over his scalp before gathering more hair. Over and over, she did this, and before long, the rhythmic nature of it relaxed her as much as it did him.
She trimmed the back and sides and ended up in front of him. With a last snip of the scissors, dark hair floated to the kitchen floor. She took a step back to assess her work, widening her focus to take in more than just his hair, and the transformation made her gasp. He’d been good-looking before. This was too much.
The short haircut opened up his face, showing off his strong features to full advantage. Girls were going to throw themselves at him. Starting with her, if she wasn’t careful.
“How is it?” he asked.
Making sure to keep her touches firm, she tugged on the strands to see if the lengths were even on both sides. “It’s good.” Tapping the handle of the scissors on her jaw, she let a smile sneak onto her lips. “I’m good.”
He dug his cell phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to her. “Take a picture for Vy, please. She’s the hair police.”
Esme took pictures from several different angles, but before returning the phone to him, she sent her favorite one to herself. “She’s going to like it.”
He scratched at his neck where small hairs stuck to his skin as he sent the same picture to his sister. “We’ll see.”
She got the broom and dustpan and had half of the hair on the floor swept up when his phone buzzed. Chuckling, he showed her the text messages on his screen.
Finally!
Who cut it? Tip 50%!
My baby brother is a hottie!!!
“I guess she approves,” he said.
Esme grinned. “I told you she’d like it.”
“Thank you.” He returned her smile, and it was one of his rare real smiles that wrinkled his eyes, dimpled his cheeks, and revealed even white teeth.
Sky and earth, she wanted to taste that smile. And each of those dimples. Pure wanting speared through her body on electric currents, making the fine hairs on her skin stand up, and she almost swayed toward him. If she was better at being Esme in Accounting, would he want her back?