Page 66 of Cut up
It’s Saturday morning, and Tyler’s out for the whole day. Probably a date—he winked at me on his way out and said, “Don’t wait up unless you’re dying to hear all the gory details.”
No, thank you.
So it’s just Lucas and I home today. We’ve been alone a handful of times since I moved in, usually Tyler’s around, and this week’s been hectic. We’ve barely seen each other, like strangers passing in the night.
It’s safe to say I’m a little nervous.
I offered to cut his hair today since I’ve got the day off and so does he. I set up a chair and my tools in his bathroom. His is the biggest in the house.
“Hey, Lucas,” I call out. “Ready when you are.”
I hear his footsteps a minute later, he walks in shirtless, wearing only his running shorts.
Fuck, he’ssohot.
I remind myself to stay professional.
“Take a seat, Sir,” motioning to the dining chair I dragged in front of the mirror. He smirks as he sits down. So much for professional.
I start running my fingers through his hair, and when I glance up, he’s already looking at me in the mirror with those stunning green eyes.
Butterflies. Every single time.
He usually keeps those looks to a minimum when Tyler’s around—but Tyler’s not here.
That look? He wants me. As much as I want him.
ButI know Lucas won’t cross a line unlessImake the first move.
“Your hair’s so soft and clean,” I murmur, still combing my fingers through it. “So… what would you like me to do with it? I’ve got some ideas.”
He gets goosebumps along his back. I pretend not to notice.
“I really don’t mind,” he shrugs. “I’m happy for you to do what you like. I trust you.”
God help me.
“Okay then,” I smile. “You can be surprised.”
I get to work, the air between us thick with unspoken tension. He’s quiet, but I can feel his eyes on me. He smells clean, and that familiar scent of wood and spice. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin as I move around him, fingertips brushing his scalp lightly as I trim. Each time I pass in front of the mirror, our eyes meet. He holds my gaze just long enough to make my stomach flip.
The scissors make quiet, rhythmic snips, and the bathroom is filled with nothing but the sound of metal and breath. My breath. His breath.
I try not to let it distract me. Try not to think about sitting in his lap, kissing him, threading my hands through his hair just for fun.
The chemistry between us crackles now that I’m touching him. The electricity is real.
I tell myself to work faster—but instead, I slow down, savouring every moment I get to be this close.
35
Haircuts and hard ons
When Cam told me she could cut my hair today, I didn’t think too much of it. We’ve been alone quite a bit since she moved in, and I’ve managed to hold my shit together around her.
But the moment she started running her hands through my hair, I couldn’t stop staring at her, feeling the electricity of her touch all along my scalp.
I never,ever,thought a haircut could turn me on.
