“This was a normal-size bathroom. But I had a wall knocked out to make room for the counters and mirrors,” Edison said as he directed Trent to a large basin sink. “I need to wash your hair first.”
“I washed it last night.”
“Like I said.” Edison pointed at the sink. “I need to wash your hair.”
“Fine,” Trent grunted. He yanked his sweater over his head and tossed it on the floor beside him. “I hope I’m not stinking up the place. I had to come right from work.”
“Well, you are gonna shower before your date, right?” Edison laughed. He helped guide Trent’s head beneath the hot water and asked him, “So what’s your date like?”
Trent didn’t say anything until he was sitting in the soft, leather barber’s chair in front of the most masculine vanity he’d ever seen. All the drawers were dark woodgrain, and the overhead lighting was industrial-styled with mason jars over the bulbs.
“Is it Sil again? Is that why you don’t want Bishop to know?”
Trent exhaled. “No. It’s not Sil. It’s…”
“Is it Wood?”
“How’d you go from my ex to a man?” Trent gaped.
“Well. You’re kind of a creature of habit, Trent. You work and go home. For fun you hang out with your best friend or you battle Summer on the video game. And if you have a date… Bishop is always the first to know. Now all of sudden… something or someone has upended your usual routine.”
“Damn,” Trent mumbled.
“And you two are pretty funny together. The looks you give each other when you think no one’s looking are kind of hot.”
Trent sat up straight as a board. “Shit. If you figured it out, then that means that—”
“Relax. I also saw you guys’s house rules on the refrigerator when I brought the enchiladas.”
Trent frowned. “That’s typical, Edison. Every house has rules.”
“Of course they do. Like the one about Wood having to use a cup and plate at all times. Real typical.” Edison stopped combing Trent’s hair and stepped back to stare at him pointedly. “Or the all-too-common rule that Wood must wear a top and bottom at all times?”
Trent barked a startled laugh. Damn, he’d forgotten about that one. He should revise those. The no-shirt rule was kind of null and void now.
“My favorite one was ‘Wood must not rub his chest against me when I cook.’”
Trent dropped his head and stared at his lap. “Yeah, okay, maybe it’s Wood.”
“Wow,” Edison said, continuing with his job. Already, Trent’s hair smelled like the Garden of Eden, and Edison was using a comb and scissors on him that didn’t look as if they’d been purchased from Walmart.
“What kinda wow is that?”
“It’s a surprised wow,” Edison answered, then rotated him in the swivel chair so he could trim around his left ear. “That’s not bad.”
“I guess.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
Trent thought about it for a moment. Was he really sure he wanted to discover more about this part of himself? He thought of Wood’s charming smile that greeted him when he came out of his bedroom in the morning, and the way he touched him as if he was special and the most important thing in his world. Did he want more of that? Hell yes. “I’m always sure when I’m around him. But…”
“But.”
“But tonight when we go out, I wanna be like, enough, you know what I mean?” Trent grimaced, hoping he didn’t sound insecure, but he found himself getting lost in the rhythmic strokes Edison used to comb his hair in between the steady snipping with the scissors, and he began to open up. “I can’t really explain it. From the moment he first came through the door, I knew.”
Edison smiled and turned his chair again so he was no longer facing the mirror. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”
“At first he just pushed my fuckin’ buttons and I tried to give him shit, but… he didn’t really fall for it. He acted all high-and-mighty and mature all the time, but then he’d call me names and throw paper at me like a five-year-old.” Trent smiled slowly. “Then I saw a side of him that I could relate to. I didn’t think we’d have anything in common, but me and him aren’t as different as I thought.”
“Doesn’t hurt he’s easy on the eyes either.” Edison quirked a brow as if he dared Trent to disagree.
He wouldn’t. “He smells even better. Like a damn...” Trent rolled his eyes. Fuck. “How do I describe it?”
“He smells like a gentleman,” Edison added casually.
Trent snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s a perfect description. He smells like he works in a gentlemen’s club.” Trent pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not even fully sure what that means.”
Edison chuckled as he opened a side drawer and switched combs, then took out a slim pair of hairline edgers and plugged them into an outlet. “I know exactly what you mean. He wears a classic fragrance that’s over forty years old.”
Trent whipped his head around, making Edison glare as if he almost made him mess up. “Unless you want to bring back the rattail, I suggest you sit still.”
Trent grabbed Edison’s wrist. “You know why he smells like that? Tell me because he keeps saying it’s his natural scent which I know is bullshit!”
Edison laughed loudly. “You two are funny. It sounds like you’re having a good time over there. But I can tell you honestly that Wood’s natural scent is definitely Givenchy Gentleman. I should know because I bought a bottle for my dad’s business partner for his birthday one year. It’s not a cologne you’d smell on a young guy, trust me.”
“How can he afford something that smells like that?” Trent asked. “Where can I get it? Is it expensive?”
Edison was having a hard time containing his grin as he repositioned Trent’s head and turned on the trimmers. “No. It’s a classic, not expensive at all. Like forty bucks or so.”
Trent was quiet for a while as Edison cleaned up his neck and shaped the overgrown stubble on his jaw. He had to admit he was starting to look pretty damn good, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Wood’s reaction would be when he saw him. Edison wasn’t even finished, and he was already glad he’d made this effort.
“You got quiet on me.”
Trent smirked. “I’m just glad I came here and not to the Hair Cuttery around the corner from my house.”
Edison stared blankly at him, then picked up the sharp shears he’d been using earlier. “Why don’t you stick these in my jugular, Trent? It’ll be less painful than what you just said.”
Trent shook his head. “You’re a cool dude, Edison.”
“I know.” Edison smiled. He grabbed one of the multiple bottles of products on the counter and squirted some clear liquid in his palm and ran it through the long strands of hair on the top of Trent’s head. “I’m gonna send you home with some of this styling gel to use after your shower. Just spread it through evenly like I did, combing it back with your fingers.”