Page 12 of Crazy in Love

He glanced at her through the mirror, curious if she was serious. She was. Whatever. It didn’t matter how they got here.The thought of freedom was too enticing, and he’d humor her ridiculousness if it would buy him a few hours alone every day.

“I’m game,” he said.

“Well, all right,” Tess said, shrugging.

“Oooh,” Faith exclaimed, looking toward the door. “What pretty flowers.”

The receptionist said something to the flower deliveryman and pointed their direction. The man used both hands to lug over a massive bouquet of summer flowers. “Faith Sullivan?”

“Yes,” she said. “They’re for me?” A huge smile spread across her face at his nod.

The man set the vase on the small shelf at Faith’s workstation, blocking Nick’s reflection of himself, and left.

“Want me to read you the card?” Tess pulled a tiny white envelope from the bunch.

“Probably a belated thing for my mom’s death,” Faith said, still snipping away at Nick’s hair. The fact that he couldn’t see what she was doing anymore made him nervous. He had control issues—a flaw he acknowledged and periodically tried to work on—and didn’t like being unable to see what was happening to him.

“I watch from afar, your smile so bright. Wishing for permission to step into your light. Call me. Denver.” Tess’s face scrunched up. “Denver, as in the guy who graduated a year before us and works at the gas station?”

Faith sighed. “He’s been asking me out for a while now. I don’t know how he hasn’t gotten the message that I’m not interested. The flowers are a new touch.”

“You’re too nice, Faith,” Tess said. “Men misinterpret it to mean you like them, and then you’re not blunt enough saying no.”

“I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

Nick sat still as they bantered back and forth. His eyes fluttered shut. This little outing was tuckering him out embarrassingly fast. Finally, Faith put down the scissors, picked up a comb, took a few swipes, and declared him done.

“Ta-da,” she said, pulling away the cloak and brushing his shoulders. “Handsome as ever.”

He leaned to the side, looking around the flowers to see in the mirror. Normally, he was very picky about who cut his hair. In Boston, he would drive thirty minutes out of his way to a barber he’d found in town, but who’d moved to the suburbs. Faith had surprisingly done a great job.

“Thanks. What do I owe you?” He pulled out his wallet.

“It’s on the house,” Faith said. “You can buy me a beer sometime.”

“You look like you’re about to fall over,” Tess said, brows knitting in concern. “Let’s get you home.”

She wasn’t wrong. He felt weak. A feeling he didn’t like one bit. He nodded and let her help him out of the chair. Tess grabbed the cane and put an arm around his waist. He leaned on her heavily and let her guide him to the car. As soon as he was seated, he closed his eyes and laid his head back.

“You gonna make it?” she asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Hope so. Think I overestimated how much energy getting a haircut takes.”

“Maybe you should stay with Mom and Dad for a few more days. What if you need something or someone to help you, and you’re all alone?”

He wanted to argue with her. Tell her he was fine and that he didn’t need anyone. But a man had to know his limitations. “Let me see how I feel later. Sitting around the house isn’t as taxing.”

“You’re the one that always says safety first. I know you’re dying to be roomies, but a couple more days won’t kill you.”

He hated to admit she was right but grunted in agreement.

“So, that’s your best friend?” Nick asked, changing the subject. “You seem very different.”

Tess laughed. “Oh, we are. For sure. Faith’s got a few nutty quirks, but she’s loyal and fun and sweet.”

“She’s a flirt.”

“That too. And just so you don’t go getting a big head, she’s that way with everyone.”

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