Page 32 of River
My hands stopped massaging his scalp, and I met his eyes. “And how’s that?”
“When I saw you at the market, I literally stopped in my tracks. I honestly can’t remember being this attracted to a woman, ever.”
Heat spread in my cheeks, and I quickly broke eye contact with him, feeling flustered. Reaching for the water to wash out the conditioner, I reminded myself that I’d heard poetic and deeply felt love declarations many times. All Noah said was that he was attracted to me, so why were my insides tingling?
“It’s a shame, you know.”
“What is?” I asked.
“That you’re not attracted to me.”
Was he fishing for a compliment?
I didn’t say much but rinsed out the conditioner and used a towel to wrap around his hair.
“This way, sir.” I walked over to the cutting station by the large mirror and tapped the old leather chair.
Noah came to sit, and our eyes met in the mirror.
“Can I cut it how I like?” I asked and slid my hands through his hair one more time. God, why couldn’t I stop touching this man?”
“You have my permission to go crazy.”
We exchanged a smile in the mirror, and then I went to work. It was warm in the small shop, and with the door open, there was a constant buzz from outside traffic. One of the women who worked here sat outside, talking to the neighbor shop owner while waving at tourists to attract customers.
Noah stayed quiet while I cut his hair. After cutting by his neck, I leaned in and blew little hairs away. I saw goosebumps rise on his skin and felt a bit sorry for him when he moved in his seat and placed his hands in his lap.
He was turned on by my closeness, and typically I would have pulled back after noticing, but the article from last night played in my mind, making me blow once more while using my fingers to brush away the little hairs.
There was no reason for it since I had a hair blower next to me; I just really enjoyed getting close to him.
After finishing cutting his hair, I blow-dried it to show him how great it looked styled.
Noah’s lips pursed up, and he turned his head from side to side. “Very nice.”
“Are you satisfied?”
“Yes, it’s much better than a buzz cut.”
“Would you let me trim your beard too?”
“Sure.”
The ladies in the salon had shaving under services offered, so I asked them for their shaver and they brought me an electric trimmer and an old-fashioned straight razor and cream.
“This is like being at the barber shop except I’ve never seen a barber as pretty as you,” Noah said after I’d used the trimmer to cut his beard short.
His compliment made me smile while I smeared shaving cream on his cheeks, chin, and throat. I didn’t remove his beard but made it modern and defined.
“I feel like this is a trust exercise—you know. to let someone close to your throat with a sharp blade.”
“No talking, mister. I’m trying to make heart shapes on each cheek.”
“Tell me that you’re joking!”
“I’m joking, but you need to sit still and be quiet. I haven’t shaved anyone in almost a year.”
Noah remained quiet and when I got close to him, he stopped breathing.
