hips, the way her perfectly round tits show a hint of cleavage in those buttoned-up tops she wears.
And my God, the black-rimmed glasses she dons for work? I’ve had to duck around a corner one too many times to banish my erection in public.
The long brown hair that used to curl around my fingers when I made love to her. The midnight blue eyes that looked up at me, full of so much love.
How could I even exist on this planet if those things weren’t mine anymore?
But I’d made a promise, and it had kept me from her for ten years. One measly ride in a car, her fingertips on my jaw … it wasn’t going to undo all that.
A couple of customers filter in and out through the morning, but it’s a Thursday and business is slower. The weekend will pick up, but I have a good gig going here, as the town’s only barbershop.
Not that this is what I ever envisioned myself doing as a career. I thought I’d be well into a major league baseball career by this time, touring the country, playing in all the stadiums I revered as a kid.
That night ten years ago changed way more than just my relationship with Lily.
My life could always be worse. I owned my own business, had no one to answer to, fought fires when I was needed. The firefighting came about in a strange way, but the town needed more volunteers, and cutting hair wasn’t exactly exciting. I wanted the rush again, and that’s what it provided.
But … I wasn’t necessarily happy. Those trophies and honors and plaques, they all sat in my basement, collecting dust. Sometimes, just to rub more salt in the gaping wound, I’d watch my baseball tapes, the ones Dad had made when I was trying to get scouted for college.
In another life, I would be under those lights, in front of TV cameras, winning a World Series. The fact that I wasn’t doing that … it crushed me more than I even knew how to express in words.
The bell over the door to my shop jingles, and I look up from where I’m wiping down a counter of one of the four stations in the place.
Keaton sits down in my chair, and I walk over, swing a cape around his shoulders.
“Been busy today?” He starts off, feigning small talk.
I know my brother better than I know myself. He’s my best friend and the worst liar in the world. The guy is just too honest for faking anything.
“Couple customers. Good for a Thursday. But that’s not why you’re here.”
“I’m here for a haircut.” My brother smiles at me in the mirror hanging above my station.
I grit my teeth. “Out with it, Keat.”
He sighs, relenting just as I begin to buzz the nape of his neck. “Someone saw you dropping Lily off a couple of days ago. It’s around town that you two were in your truck together.”
Fuck Fawn Hill and its rampant gossip line. These were some of the nosiest people in the world, I swear. My lips stay clamped, my breath coming in furious snorts as I work over my brother’s scalp.
After a few minutes of silence, Keaton speaks.
“Bowen, you know why this is a bad idea …”
I throw my electric razor onto the tabletop of my station. “You don’t think I know that? Her car broke down on that back road in from Lancaster. The old farmer’s service road. What was I going to do, Keat, leave her there in a thunderstorm?”
That shuts him up, and I pick up my scissors to trim the longer ends.
“I’m not sure I want you with scissors anywhere near my face right now. I am proposing tomorrow, you know.”
I did know … he’s only told me seven hundred times. I try to wipe the salty expression off my face. I like Presley. I like her a hell of a lot. But I find it hard to get excited about anything that concerns love or marriage anymore.
Probably because mine was decapitated before it could even really get the chance to thrive.
Keaton clears his throat. “That was nice of you. I know how hard that ride must have been.”
Nodding, I try to focus on my work. “Toughest thing I’ve done in almost three years.”
I’m referencing Dad’s death, and the grieving that we were still going through, and Keaton knows it.
“Bow …” Keaton’s eyes stare at me in the mirror, waits until he knows he has my attention.