"Don't look at me like that," Brooke says, walking over to the station in the corner of the room. There's a cushioned chair that's attached to a shampoo bowl and a small shelf above it that's lined with just a few simple products.
"What look?" I ask as I follow her.
She taps the chair and stands behind the sink. "You know what look."
I slide into the seat, letting my head fall back into the cut-out groove and peer up at her. "I have no idea what you're talking about.You'rethe mystery, remember?"
She gives me a knowing grin and turns the water knob until it slowly trickles out. I watch as she reaches below the sink and pulls out a thin rectangular towel.
"You know, I've never had my hair washed before a cut," I say, still confused about this part.
Brooke giggles. "Well, if you haven't noticed, Trav's a little… different."
I leave my neck cocked at the uncomfortable angle just to see her smile. "What gave it away? The braids or the mustache?"
She huffs out another laugh as she pushes on the back of my head. "Up," she says simply, but I have to remind my dick she's not talking to him.
Brooke slides the fabric beneath my shoulders before I lay back down, then drapes the ends over my shirt on either side of my neck. Testing the water once more, she pulls the hose from the holder on the sink, thezip of the chord echoing off the basin. When the warm rush touches the back of my head, the hairs on my neck fight it to rise. Once it's soaked, Brooke massages her fingers into my scalp, digging them into the nape of my neck and dragging them upward before swirling them behind both ears. She sinks her nails into the hair just above my forehead, combing it backward in quick, short strokes, taking a tantalizing amount of time to do so. When she pulls on the ends just a little more roughly, I reach my arm behind me and slap my hand around her wrist.
"Don't play with me, Brooke. You know exactly what you're doing."
She giggles, then leans down and exhales a warm breath on my ear before responding in a low, painfully-fucking sexy tone. "Don't worry. It's working for me too."
My eyes snap shut as I let out a groan. The sound of her reaching for a product on the shelf teases my senses, knowing she has to repeat that whole process in order to actually get the job done. The next five minutes are spent painfully thinking about anything besides the way Brooke's hands feel in my hair, and how I'd like to tease her back.
Thankfully, after another few seconds, Trav reappears. He steps in front of my chair, twirling the corner of his mustache, his braids dangling over his shoulders—apparently the exact remedy I needed.
"Alright, Brooke. You gonna look at me?"
With her back still to me like it has been for the last twenty minutes, she responds. "Oh my God, I don't know why I'm so nervous."
I can't help but laugh as I flick my fingers through the front of my hair, the only part that's still remotely long at all. "Gotta be honest, you're not making me feel any less anxious about this."
"No!" she says quickly. "I'm sure it looks…" She whips herself around, her breath hitching when she sees me. "So fucking hot."
I run my tongue across my teeth as I glance shyly at Trav. Brooke strides toward me slowly, reaching out and petting my hair with her mouth dropped open. "So. Fucking. Hot," she repeats, her voice breathy. I chuckle as I lean into her touch, then wrap my arms around her waist.
"You're not being very mysterious," I say, tilting my head to the only person who has ever seen us interact like this.
Brooke tears her eyes away from my new look, her hand still in my hair, just long enough to find Trav observing us, his chin resting in the curve of his hand. "I'll throw in an order of sliders this year if you forget this ever happened."
He tilts his head back and forth in contemplation. "Make it potato skins and you got yourself a deal."
Brooke nods once, and Trav turns toward his office as she slams her lips to mine. It takes my body a second to catch up, but when it does, I dissolve into her, any worry I once had about making the change totally gone—or at least completely worth it. My tongue meets hers, and Brooke sweeps her palm over my new fade. "So hot," she repeats once more.
Pulling away reluctantly, I press my forehead against hers. "You should probably cut this part out of your time-lapse."
Her eyes fly to the tripod set up just feet from us on the other side of the chair. "But don't delete it," I add swiftly. "Just, you know… maybe send it to me instead."
The corners of her lips turn up as she playfully rolls her eyes. "I promise I'll run it past you before I post it later."
I plant a kiss on her forehead. "Perfect."
"So, what now then, Twelve?"
I inhale slowly, going through my usual routine. I skipped my run which threw off the rest of my morning, but there's still time before practice later to get some of it in. "Actually, there's something I usually do that I'd like to not skip." I bring my hand to the back of my neck, the bare skin foreign to my touch. "Especially after all this."
"Oh, okay," she says casually. "Well, I have to meet Brett at the rink later, but maybe I can see you after."
