“Got one at the start of November before the snow fell. I knew it would be a while so I try to get it under control before we go into hibernation.”
His hair is much more awkward looking at the moment, the disheveled phase between short shaggy hair and the 70s face framing look.
“Who do you usually go to to cut your hair in town?”
“Remember Ally Herm?”
“Yeah, I used to be friends with her.”
“Used to go to her, she went to beauty school after high school.”
“I thought she was going to University of Washington for pre-med.”
“Yeah, I think being a rocket surgeon was a lot harder than she thought it would be. She came back to town after one semester and enrolled at the local cosmetology school and became a hairstylist. She was pretty goodbut I had to stop going to her after this one,” he points at my current client, “slept with her. She wouldn’t stop asking me about him so I tried a real man’s barber and I gotta say, women like me a lot more than straight guys.”
I peer down at Jason from where I’m trimming the pieces around his face with what I can only imagine is a stupefied expression. “You slept with Ally Herm?” And then never called her again, apparently.
He nodded.
“Shit, sorry dude,” Dylan sucks air between his teeth. “Guess you haven’t had the body count talk yet.” Jason shoots him an unamused look past my shoulder. If I know Dylan, though, he probably wasn’t the least bit affected by it.
After I finish with Jason and Dylan comments on how symmetrical everything looks—right before Jason pulls his hair back into a bun again—he admits he feels more confident in my skills now.
“Alright, how long or short do you want it?”
“I want it long on top and short on the sides like a 1920s gangster,” he says with all seriousness.
I chuckle and shake my head, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Trying to make his dreams come true with my limited tools is a challenge I wasn’t quite prepared for, but I think I managed to bring his vision to life. As Dylan fiddles with the longer strands atop his head while staring into a mirror, the smile on his face tells me he is quite pleased.
“Wasn’t sure this would look good on me or not. But I gotta say, I think it suits me. Do I look like I could pull a tommy gun on you at any minute?” His eyes narrow into a squint while his mouth forms a hard line that doesn’t suit his bubbly personality.
“More like a squirt gun, but ok.”
As I grab the broom from where it rests against the wall, Jason rips it from my hands, wraps an arm over my shoulders and pulls me into him so he can plant a romantic kiss to my temple. This openly affectionate side of Jason will take some getting used to but I think I like it.
After the chaos of the previous evening and the tenderness of this morning,I was ready for our nightly ritual of reading before bed. After showering and brushing my teeth, I slipped into our room ready to lay beside the man I’ve come to find comfort in.
As soon as I step inside, Jason’s body is against mine with his hands planted on my lower back. He presses his lips to mine then, looking down on me with passionate fire in his eyes. I melt internally at the sight of this man who was so closed off, punishing himself for the things he couldn’t control, opening up to me in his own way. Affection is his way of communicating now, of reassuring me. And I know he does it because of what I shared the other night. Maybe I got too personal, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all. But I can’t deny the weightlessness I’ve felt since confessing my secret. I feel like I need to explain further but he hasn’t pushed me on the matter. I know he’ll be there when I’m ready to talk about it.
“Hey,” I say as soon as Jason releases me from the kiss. “Nice to see you too.” I run my fingertips up and down his bare back savoring the curvature of his body. His playful smile seems so innocent on the face of a man who scowls ninety percent of the time.
“Sooo,” I drag out the word. “Ally Herm, huh?” He rolls his eyes at that. “No shame there. She’s pretty. Just surprised. We’ve never had that conversation. Exactly how many girls have you slept with in town?”
Jason walks away from me with a cocky grin that edges me on. Oh how I hate not knowing things. And he’s very aware of that.
“Ok fine, I’ll guess.” I follow him to the bed. “Five?” No response. I reach the edge of the bed. “Ten?” Nothing. I lift myself onto the mattress. “Fifteen?” I wait on my knees at the end of the bed, waiting expectantly. “Twenty?”Still nothing. “Come on, Alder, are you some kind of Casanova or just like being mysterious?”
He meets me halfway on the bed where I sit on my heels. He’s on his knees but still towers over me as he cradles my jaw in both hands. He points a finger at my chest as if to sayyou first.
“Fine. You’re the third guy I’ve ever been with. Unless you count fooling around with Max Crown behind the bleachers. But we only got to second base.”
He laughs a silent laugh that makes his upper body shake a little. I know he has a voice and chooses not to use it. But I wish I could hear him laugh. Areallaugh.
“Alright. Your turn. How many?”
Looking a little reluctant, Jason scratches the nape of his neck before he holds his hands in the air and flashes all ten fingers twice then holds two fingers in the air after. As he drops his arms down to my thighs my mouth gapes.
