Page 60 of Falling for my Best Friend

I opened my mouth to speak but she turned the hair dryer on, drowning out the sound of any comeback I might’ve thought of. I considered telling her to relax, that I’d seen them before, but boobs weren’t like that.

As far as I was concerned, they didn’t fall into the whole “you’ve seen them once you’ve seen them all” category. They were different. Every set was different. Every breast was different. And looking down a woman’s shirt was never enough. Any man would want to see more, and I was no different.

In fact, not only did I want to see Lucy’s breasts again, but I wanted to see her black bra again. And for the first time in my life, I wondered what it might be like to discover she was wearing it just for me.

On purpose.

I watched her work her fingers through my hair as she dried it, never once letting the fact that I’d embarrassed her interfere with her professionalism.

When she was done, she slung the hairdryer back in its pocket and stood up, obviously committed to pretending my brief transgression never happened.

“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s by far the best hair cut I’ve ever gotten.”

“Wipe that smile off your face, Aiden. I mean it.”

She unhooked my cape thingy and shook it over the floor before dropping it in a hamper at the back of the room.

I stood up and leaned towards the mirror, running my fingers through my hair.

“It looks good,” she said. “I’m glad we did that. It’s a much better way to end my day.”

I clenched my jaw thinking of her sleazy boss. “How much do I owe you?” I asked, taking out my wallet.

“Nothing,” she said. “I don’t want your money.”

“That’s not fair, c’mon. You know I’m good for it.”

“You can pay me by giving me a ride home,” she said, sweeping my hair into a pile with her foot.

“Can I at least help you clean up?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll worry about it in the morning. Chuck won’t say shit to me about it after today.”

“Your call.” Suddenly the thought of saying goodbye to Lucy and going home to Chelsea made a lump catch in my throat. “Maybe I could treat you to dinner? It would be a shame not to go out and show off your fine work.”

“I can’t,” she said, grabbing her purse from her station. “I asked Fiona to get a pizza for me, remember?”

I opened the door for her and followed her out onto the sidewalk.

“You can come back for a slice if you want,” she said, locking the door to the salon.

“No, it’s cool. I’ll leave you guys to it,” I said, wondering what would set Chelsea off more: me having dinner at Lucy’s or coming home smelling like deep dish?

Lucy changed the radio station as soon as she got in the car.

I smiled. “You know you’re the only woman who gets to do that?”

“Why? Because I’m the only woman with better taste in music than you?”

“Pretty much,” I said, accelerating through a green light.

“So I heard they’re opening a new ice cream parlor off the Brown Line,” she said. “It’s one of those places where they freeze the ice cream into little balls.”

“We should go check it out.”

“I’ll figure out when the grand opening is and let you know.”

---