Page 25 of Body Check
“Oh, yeah? Do you want some company? Or would you rather be paired up with Howard?”
I laugh. There’s no contest. “Aren’t you busy? I thought you said you were going to the gym?”
He waves me off. “I need to workout, yeah. But I think I can meet my cardio goals if I go dancing with you and if we hang out after.”
“That sounds like a pretty good workout to me,” I say. Dutton said he had fun the other night, and I have no reason not to believe him, but I’m a little surprised he wants to go back. I’mnot complaining, though. The only thing better than a dance partner my age is a tall one who knows how to lead.
“We could grab dinner after, if you want,” he says, suddenly looking a little shy. “I mean, we haven’t been on many dates, unless you think ordering pizza last night counts?”
“Hmmm… I think it gets half credit. We did eat, but we were also naked.”
“Well, tonight, we could dance and eat. And then get naked. You know, if you want to. I mean, don’t get me wrong, naked time is my favorite time, but I also like hanging out with you and talking.” As he says the words, a strange look washes over his face.
“You sound surprised,” I say, unlocking my car doors.
“I am,” he says, his laugh sounding a little rusty. “Hanging out and talking to people is not generally on my list of favorite things to do. But it’s fun when it’s you.”
I take his statement for the compliment it obviously is as I turn the car on and drive out onto the main road. “We’ve got half an hour,” I say. “Since you like talking to me so much, maybe we should start now.” It’s fun to tease him, but when I chance a quick glance at him, he’s nodding, like my suggestion makes perfect sense.
“So, uh, what do you want to talk about?” he asks, sliding his phone from his pocket. I swear, if he’s looking up tips on small talk, my heart is going to melt a little.
“Let’s start with something easy. What do you like to do in your free time? Do you play any sports?”
“Sports?” he asks, his voice an octave higher than usual. “Uh, yeah. I love anything with a scoreboard. And I play golf with my dad when we both have free time. I just transferred to BU after living out of state for two years, and my folks are local, so I’ll probably play a few rounds with my dad before my schedule gets too crazy.”
I’m about to ask him where he transferred from, but he opens his mouth before I have a chance.
“What about you? I know you’re a dancer, and that you can skate. What else do you do for fun?”
“Hair, nails, and skincare,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face. “I know that’s also my job, but it’s fun for me. That’s why I went to beauty school in the first place. I love helping people look and feel good. And, honestly, I just love playing around with all the products. I used to love playing dress up as a kid. I’d always pretend I was in a beauty pageant or that I was a famous celebrity on the red carpet. I guess I never really grew out of that.”
“You’re really good at it, so it’s easy to see why you love it so much. That scalp thingy? That was awesome. And you gave me the best shave of my life. My face was as smooth as a baby’s ass.”
I laugh. “Should I put that on my business cards?”
“Obviously,” he says in the deadpan style I’m starting to associate with him. “Do you want to have your own place someday? Or do you like it where you are?”
“Mane Street is a great place to work. The other stylists are great and we have a steady clientele. I’m happy there now, but owning my own place is my ultimate goal. It’s what I’ve been working toward for the past two years, and it’s why I’m getting my business degree. It’s not a requirement, exactly, but I feel like it will give me an edge. I want to be involved in all aspects of my business.”
“That’s what brought you to Bainbridge?” he asks.
“Yep. That and my brother. We’re pretty close, and he’s always been my biggest fan. He’s a student here, too, and he practically begged me to choose BU over the college back home. Not that I minded. It was honestly weird living at home without him. We’re twins, so we’re used to doing everything together.”
“He’s the reason you transferred? I might just have to thank the guy when I meet him,” he says, a teasing tone woven into his words.
I pull to a stop at the red light by the studio. “Nope. That was way too cheesy. I might just have to kick you out of this car,” I tell him.
Dutton James just shrugs. “Fair. But you’ve got to cut me a break. I’m new to this whole “conversing with other people” thing.”
“You’re, what? Twenty-one years old and you’re a novice when it comes to basic conversation?”
“Yeah,” he admits. “I wasn’t joking when I said my social circle had a total of five people in it, including me.”
“Well, your social circle is about to get even bigger. Look who’s here,” I say, pointing to the front of the building as I park my car. Howard and Marty stand by the doors, waving when they see us.
When we make our way over to them, they both wrap me in hugs and offer their hands to Dutton. It’s a little formal, but these guys are old school.
“Are you guys here for the class?” I ask as we head inside.
