touch him again. It’s been five days. Five long, drawn-out, lonely days. When I return with the haircutting kit, he’s standing at the table, gazing at the ring. I run over and take it from him, close the box, and put it away.
His eyebrows draw down as he scowls. “What the hell is that?”
“What does it look like?”
“A goddamn engagement ring.”
“I think Corey might have proposed.”
“You think?”
“I ran into him at the park a few days ago, and it came in the mail yesterday.”
“He sent it to you?”
“I think he was trying to prove a point.”
“Which is?”
“That he loves me.”
He paces behind the couch. “What did you say?”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“Why not?” He studies me. “Is he what you want, El?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why haven’t you sent it back?”
“Haven’t gotten around to it.” I motion to the chair. “Are we going to do this or what?”
He sits, clearly brooding which pleasures me to no end. I wrap the smock around him, but it gets caught on the chair post and rips. I make a disgusted noise.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“The smock is useless now.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Hair will get on you, and it will be itchy.”
“I think I can handle it.”
I fetch a dishtowel from the kitchen. “Use this to catch any drips.”
I use a spray bottle to wet his hair, then I comb through it, speculating how I should attack it. I part it down the middle, and section by section, work my way from front to back and top to bottom, cutting only little bits at a time.
“Don’t be afraid to cut,” he says as small wisps fall to the ground. “It’s only hair.”
“It’s not just any hair. You’re in a rock band. It has to be perfect.” I take a step back. “What if I screw it up? Ronni will have my head on a platter. Maybe we didn’t think this through.”
He pulls me between his legs, and suddenly this has become much more than a haircut. “It’ll grow back. I trust you, El.”
My heart flutters. Does he have any idea how powerful those words are, coming from him? I doubt he’s trusted many people in his life.
I go back to cutting. I’m so close to him, I can feel his breath on my chest. I’m all too aware that he’s left his hand on my leg. I can feel the heat of it through my jeans. I need to move to do the sides, but I don’t want to. I like the way his hand feels on me.
Eventually, I’m forced to change position or the front will be too short. He’s a rock star. His hair needs to be long and roguish. I can’t take off too much.
When I finish, I run my fingers through the back of his hair. He grabs my hands. “What are you doing?”
“Checking to see if it’s even.”
He releases me. I come around front and do the same thing. I’m acutely aware that he’s breathing faster, and I’m pretty sure there’s a bulge in his pants. I try not to smile.
“All done.” I pick up the hand mirror and hold it out. “What do you think?”
He doesn’t even look at it. “It’s fine.”
Our eyes lock. Flutters rise in my belly.
He stands abruptly. “I … you were right. It itches. Can I jump in your shower and rinse off?”
“Sure.” I point. “Right through there.”
He disappears without another word. I hear the water turn on. And all I can do is stand here and think about him naked in my shower.
A knock on the door pulls me from my fantasy. Without even checking to see who it is, I open it. Immediately I realize my mistake. It’s Corey, with a dozen roses. “Well?”
I glance back at the bathroom. “This really isn’t a good time.”
He steps around me and into the room. “You got the ring, right?”
“I got it.” I pick it up and hand it to him. “And now I’m giving it back.”
“Don’t, Ella. We belong together.”
“If that were true, you’d never have cheated, and we’d actually still be together.”
“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”
“You don’t have to anymore. Just walk away.”
A noise comes from the bathroom. Corey looks around the apartment. He sees the hair on the floor. “Is someone here?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“No one you know.”
“A man?”
The bathroom door cracks open. “Did you say something?” Liam asks. When I don’t respond, he sticks his head out and sees Corey.
“This is—”
“I know who it is,” Liam says, coming out with only a