“Could if you wanted me to,” I point out. “Though just thinking about asking Ford where you live makes me want to strangle my best friend.”
Her playful smile drops and her eyes widen. “Nothing happened between me and Ford, Beau, not ever.”
“Not ever?” I ask as something ugly slithers up my spine.
She shakes her head. “Not the first time, not last night.”
I don’t ask her what the first time means, because after I get my hair cut, I‘m going to fucking ask him. We don’t say anything else as she finishes my trim. When she’s done, she washes my hair, then blow dries, styles and puts some shit in it to keep it in place.
She’s good.
My hair looks better than when I get it done in Los Angeles, which usually costs me a couple hundred bucks a trip.
“Is it okay?” Hutton asks.
Turning around in the chair, I slowly stand to my feet, standing directly in front of her. My lips twitch as I look down at her. She’s got her lips pressed together, something she does when she’s nervous.
“It looks perfect,” I murmur.
She lifts her arm, playing with the strands and manipulating them where she wants them. I let her, loving the way her fingers feel in my hair, wondering if tonight will end with them in my hair again, but for totally different reasons.
“How much do I owe you?” I rasp.
Hutton releases my hair, taking a step back. “It’s twenty, but you don’t have to pay, Beaumont,” she whispers.
Twenty bucks. I shake my head. “Write down your address for me, Hutton,” I remind.
She nods as she turns toward her small notepad at the corner of her booth. I pull some money out of my pocket, setting it by her clippers, a couple hundred bucks for her. She deserves it, putting up with my ass, agreeing to dinner. For everything.
Fuck.
She deserves a hell of a lot more than a couple hundred bucks, and if she’ll let me, I’ll give it all to her. I’m not letting her slip through my fingers a second time. I’m ready to settle down, to have a good woman at my side and I know that Hutton is just that.
Chapter Eight
HUTTON
After I watch his ass in his jeans walk away from me. Laurie magically appears out of the back. She clears her throat. Spinning around, I look up at her. She’s grinning at me as she sinks down into her chair again.
“What happened?”
“Like you weren’t listening,” I snort.
Something catches my eye as I’m straightening up my area and I gasp at the neatly folded money that’s next to the trimmer. Reaching for the cash, I unfold it. There are two brand new, crisp, one hundred dollar bills.
“That’s a big tip for a twenty-dollar cut and style,” she says then whistles.
Shoving the money in my pocket, I shake my head. “I’ll give it back to him tonight,” I say.
“At dinner?”
Rolling my eyes, I grin over at her. “Yes, at dinner. You know that I agreed, but don’t think it’s anything. It’s not. It’s dinner and closure, nothing else.”
“Do you want to know what closure really means?” she asks.
I frown, unsure of what she means. Laurie leans forward, looking from side-to-side as if she’s going to impart some serious information on me.
“One last time,” she whispers. “Closure means, one more fuck for the road, Hutt. I don’t think you’re prepared for that.”
“It’s dinner and talking,” I say, emphasizing the word talk.
Laurie snorts as she stands to her feet. She’s got a grin on her lips, shaking her head a couple of times before she finally speaks again.
“Maybe it’s only talking, maybe not. Be open to whatever happens, Hutton. You deserve a little fun and dammit, you truly deserve some orgasms.”
I open my mouth to say something back to her, but the door opens and her first client for the day walks in. I snap my lips closed because Miss Culpeper is one of the biggest gossips in town. The last thing I need is for her to start telling everyone that me and Beaumont are seeing each other.
Slipping away from them, I head to the back and start to get all of my colors ready for my appointments later this afternoon. I try not to think about Beaumont the entire time, but I fail.
I’m just finishing up my busy work when I hear a soft knock against the wall. Turning around, I see Exeter standing in the doorway. I watch her for a moment, wondering what to say, what to do. Then I see Channing’s blonde hair behind her as she pokes her head to the side.
“Can we talk?” Exeter asks.
I nod as they shuffle into the small room. They don’t sit down, but their concerned eyes do focus on me, and they never waver. Exeter clears her throat, and I think that she’s going to speak first, but she doesn’t. It’s Channing who speaks up.
“Do you love him?” she asks.
My eyes widen. I could try to pretend that I don’t know what they’re talking about, but they were there last night, just like I was.
“I haven’t seen him in nine years,” I state.
Exeter shakes her head. “But do you love him?”
“I did, once.”
Exeter and Channing exchange a look, then they both focus their attention back to me. Channing is the first to break the silence again.
“Beaumont is special. I just want to make sure that this is real for you. He seems strong and all of that, but I think he’s struggling with his addiction. The last thing he needs is a bunch of drama, especially if it isn’t going anywhere. He’s had enough heartbreak,” she murmurs.
I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I don’t get the chance to ask her, at least not immediately, because it’s Exeter who speaks next.
“Beaumont is family and we just want to make sure that he’s going to be okay.”
I blink, then let out a small laugh. “Are you here to what? Warn me off of him?” I ask.
They shake their heads and Channing looks at her feet, inhaling a deep breath then lifts her gaze up to meet my own.
“We’re just worried. What you guys have, it looked intense last night and Beaumont doesn’t need more intense in his life. He’s had enough in his past.”
Frowning, I shake my head because I don’t understand what’s happening. “What has he had in the past? I haven’t seen him in nine years, so aside from rising to stardom, I don’t know much about his life.”
Channing shakes her head. “No, this is like almost fifteen years ago, not anything recently, but it’s stayed with him…” Then she looks to Exeter before her gaze meets mine again, her eyes wide. “You don’t know?”
“What am I supposed to know?” I practically beg.
My head aches with confusion. They’re talking in circles, in riddles, and I just want them to come right out and say whatever it is that they’re dancing around. As if I’m not nervous enough about going on a date tonight, then Laurie starts talking about closure sex and now this.
“You know what?” Exeter announces. “It’s not really our story to tell. I think we should go now,” she says, taking a step back.
Channing nods, her hair flying around and then without another word, I watch them turn and practically sprint out of the room, then I hear the bell at the door signaling their hasty departure. Less than ten seconds later, Laurie appears.