Page 32 of Sheltered

NINE

Blaze

Torture.

A week felt like torture when it was a week with nothing more than Harlow’s texts or a quick phone call at the end of the day.

After our date at the drive-in on Saturday, there wasn’t a chance I was going to be able to wait until the following weekend to see and spend time with Harlow.

Obviously, I was aware we both needed to work and had other obligations in our lives, but ever since I’d met her, the only thing I seemed to want to do was spend time with her.

It was almost as though I could finally have an understanding for people who suffered from addiction, because that was the way I felt about Harlow. The more I was with her, the more I wanted to be with her. I was constantly wondering how I’d manage to go another day without seeing her.

So, like someone with an addiction, I took action to get my next fix without it seeming like I couldn’t make it through a week without being able to see her.

Since she was off from work on Monday, I had no choice but to wait until first thing Tuesday morning when she was back at her salon to give her a call. Because even if I hadn’t quite gotten to the point where I needed a haircut, I was determined to see her by any means necessary.

Unfortunately, Harlow didn’t technically have any openings in her schedule this week, but she offered to have me come in after her last appointment on Wednesday evening, claiming she’d be happy to stay a bit later for a new client.

I loved how she always seemed to try to make the best of a situation and be playful. There was a part of me that felt bad and hated the thought of making her work late, but I was desperate to see her again, and I thought this might be the best way to do it without her feeling as though I was coming on too strong.

Nobody had ever affected me the way Harlow had. I felt a bit out of my element, wondering if this was one-sided. I didn’t think she wasn’t interested at all, and it was clear she enjoyed spending time with me, but I often felt like she was content with things as they were while I felt like I couldn’t breathe if I went too long without seeing her.

I didn’t blame her. She hadn’t dated anyone in more than ten years, so it was likely that the time we did spend together was already more than she’d anticipated having or perhaps even needed.

For now, I’d do what I could to be content with the time I did get with her, and hopefully, as things progressed between us, we’d get to a place where Harlow would also want more time together.

I finally arrived at the salon, swung open the door, and scanned the room until my eyes landed on her.

Harlow’s face lit up as she crossed the room and came in my direction. I stood there, watching her make her approach with that gorgeous smile on her face. The second she was close enough to touch, I reached my hand out to her wrist and tugged her forward. She let out a squeal of delight, wrapped her arms around me, and didn’t hesitate to press her mouth to mine.

God, the feel of her soft lips on mine again was the biggest relief. If I thought it would have been an option, I’d have foregone the haircut and spent the rest of the night kissing her.

How was it possible to have missed her so much in a matter of days?

When Harlow tore her mouth from mine, she took a moment to allow her eyes to roam over my face. They were sparkling as she smiled at me. “I’m so happy you’re here. Let me lock the door, since I’m technically closed now.”

Begrudgingly, I released my hold on her, finding comfort in the words she’d said. She was happy I was here with her.

After locking the door to her salon, Harlow said, “You can follow me over to the chair. We’ll discuss what you’d like me to do, then I’ll get your hair washed before I start cutting.”

She could have shaved my head completely bald for all I cared. I was simply grateful to be there with her.

Once we made it to the chair and Harlow urged me to sit, she wrapped the cape around me. Harlow took the next minute or two to discuss what I typically liked to have done with my hair. Seemingly confident in her ability to accommodate my request, it seemed that no sooner had I sat down, she was urging me to get up again, so I could join her at the hair-washing sink.

And that was the moment it all changed for me.

Because no matter how much I believed this was going to be precisely what I needed, I hadn’t taken into account just how difficult it was going to be for me.

I was quickly learning there wasn’t anything Harlow did that was like anyone else, not even when it came to washing hair. The thought never crossed my mind that she’d be able to turn something that should have been so ordinary into something that had me grateful she’d draped the cape over my body.

She’d turned on the water to get my hair wet and asked, “Is the water temperature okay?”

“It’s perfect,” I replied.

As soon as she got my hair wet, Harlow began massaging the shampoo into my scalp. If it hadn’t been for the way she was looking down at me while she did it, I was convinced I would have closed my eyes and fallen asleep.

God, it felt good.