Page 55 of Actually Yours

“What are you doing?” His lips are close to mine and I can’t find the will to move away.

“Checking that it’s perfect,” I whisper back, my eyes on his hair, refusing to look anywhere else.

“Hmmm,” he mumbles back, his hands now on my hips, pulling me closer into him.

“Jake,” I say as a warning, but it comes out like a plea.

“Amelia.” His hands squeeze my hips and my eyes follow suit, closing tightly, trying to gain some composure.

We stand in this state of suspended animation, faces almost touching, his hands on me, and wait. For something to happen. For someone to make the next move.

Andrea, it turns out, is that someone. The blasting of the hairdryer, two seats over, snaps us both back to reality. I straighten up while Jake’s hands slip away, clenching as they go.

“I’ll just put some product in, and you’ll be good to go.” Avoiding looking at him, I stumble over to the display cabinet and grab the first thing I see.Pomade? That’ll do.

Running it through his hair as quickly as possible, touching as little of him as I can, I blast the hair dryer—on the cold setting—over his head, surreptitiously running the cool air over my body as well, before declaring my job done.

Finally. Thankfully.

“All done.”

He puts his glasses back on and inspects my work. “Best haircut I’ve ever had.” He smiles at me in the mirror and I can’t help but smile back.

“Thank you.”

I remove the towel from around his neck, swiping off a few remaining strands and earning a shudder from him in response.

“Can you book me in for another cut?” he asks as he hands over his credit card. “Next week?”

I laugh at his hopeful expression. “Let’s give your hair a chance to grow before we cut it again.”

His face drops, looking crestfallen and oh-so-charming. “OK, the week after then.”

I pencil him in for the same time next month, much to his chagrin, and then push him towards the front door.

“It’s time for us to close up now, Jake,” I tell him, trying to keep my tone firm but struggling. He looks so reluctant to leave.

“Oh, OK.” He looks around at the now-empty salon. “I guess I’ll see you soon?” He lingers by the door, his gaze intent on me.

“Yes. Soon,” I agree, though I can’t think of a reason I’d be seeing him soon. Other than that I really want to.

“Bye, Andrea,” he says to my friend, who’s been watching this all unfold with a grin.

“It’s nice seeing you, Jake. Don’t be a stranger.”

He gives a small salute, lingering in front of me like he wants to say something. But then doesn’t.

“Bye, Millie.”

I close the door behind him, waiting for him to be out of sight before leaning against it with a sigh.That was…something.

“I think I need a cigarette.”

My head snaps up to look at Andrea, whose grin has grown to cartoonish proportions.

“What?” She doesn’t smoke.

“Watching the two of you.” She fans her hand dramatically. “That was hot. H. O. T. Hot.”

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