Page 14 of Starlight Salon
Finally she eats her food and my heart jumps because I’m sharing a meal with her, watching as her eyes roam over all her hard work.
“What’s your favourite part of the salon?” I ask.
She sips water. “I love the plants. It feels like home with the greenery?—”
Note to self: buy plants for my flat so she feels at home.
“—I love the basins as well, seeing clients finally relax and trust me.” Her eyes widen and dart to my hair. She leans forward and rests her hands on my shoulders, vibrating with excitement. Something clenches deep in my gut, being this close to her enthusiasm. “Can I cut your hair?” Hands drift up and start to sift through my hair. I bite back a groan from having her delicate hands brush through my hair, moving it every which way.
I reply quickly, “Sure.” Anything to keep her hands on me.
She stands and claps her hands together. “This will be so fun. You’ll be my first customer since the renovation!” She grabs my hand and pulls me upright. Tugging me to a mirror, she pushes on my shoulders, forcing me to sit in the chair.
My eyes crinkle at her obvious joy.
She opens a drawer and straps a bag around her waist full of scissors and combs, and wraps a black cape around my neck. Chloe’s right in her element, sweeping my hair in different directions as she chats through her vision. She doesn’t let her hair down like she usually would, but keeps it in a bun.
“A little shorter at the back with more left in the front, some light layers. Sound good?”
I’d let her dye it green if she wanted to. “Sounds perfect, sweetheart.”
She grins and we head to the basin.
5
Chloe
When I left this morning and untangled myself from Lachlan, there was no expectation he’d show up at the salon. At least not today. I feel slightly guilty about him doing manual labour when last night he was talking deliriously about hair clips. He must have been on the last legs of it. He looks worlds better today.
I’m surprised he showed up. Yes, it’s his job, and he’s contracted to fix it, but he could have sent someone else. Instead, he came and fixed all the issues. Nothing can stop my smile while I hold his wrist and guide him to the basin.
Usually I wouldn’t be so touchy-feely with a client, but this is Lachlan. He’s here. In my salon. I bite my cheek. Besides, he’s touching me just as much. At least, that’s how I’m justifying it in my head.
When we reach the basins, I wrap a towel around his shoulders and have him lie in the chair.
“Are you comfortable?” I ask, guiding his head to the basin and run my fingers through his hair.
He hums an agreement and watches me the best he can from his angle, brown eyes tracking my movements as I start the tap and smooth warm water through his hair.
His hair is almost black when it’s wet. “How’s the temperature?”
“Good.”
“The hot water’s working.” I soak his hair before grabbing the shampoo, but it’s not until I start massaging his head that he relaxes. He groans and I smirk at his reaction. His eyes flutter shut, and he melts in the chair.
Sometimes the sounds clients make are a bit strange, but having Lachlan in my chair, hearing his quiet groans of enjoyment I’m giving him, causes tingles to spread through my body.
A pulse focused between my legs.
I dig my fingers into the back of his neck, releasing the tension he’s carrying, and slowly move up to his temples. And clench my legs together at the sounds he’s making. Possibly it wasn’t the best idea to do this when I can’t do anything about it.
“Baby, you’re so good at this.”
His hands are clenched in fists on top of the cape I put him in, but it’s covering his lap, so I can’t see if he’s being affected the same way I am. The tension in his arms and the sounds he’s making suggest he is, but lots of clients enjoy head massages. Just because he’s enjoying this doesn’t mean he wants me.
I never thought he would return my feelings—and I’m still not sure he does—but the nicknames he’s using gives me hope.
My face falls.