“Don’t look back, baby,” Momma whispers. I close my eyes. Tears threaten to fall. “Nothing good ever came from looking back.”
Momma pulls me close, and I rest my head on her shoulder. The bus jerks and bounces us down the gravel road away from home, towards the unknown.
Chapter One
Hunter
7 years later
“A bet is a bet, Hunter,” my college roommate, Rex Roberts, taunts me as we step out of the truck. He slams the door to the cab as my gaze fixates on the sign on the building, making me realize the finality of the situation. “I knew your chickenshit ass wouldn’t follow through.”
Rolling my eyes, I square my shoulders and take a deep breath. I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but never chicken. I don’t back down from anything, even if I was well over the limit last night at the bar. After which, I happened to agree to his asinine bet that, with a sober mind, I never would have taken.
“What makes you think I am chickening out,” I toss back, as the warm southern California sun warms my back.
I stretch my arms over my head to buy time before looking his way. His smug ass smile makes me have to stifle a laugh. He thinks I’m not going to go through with this, but hell, it is only hair. It’ll grow back.
Last night, when we left the local bar closest to campus at Long Beach State where I play catcher for the Dirtbags, we bought a twelve-pack, and strolled our drunk asses over to the ballpark and broke in. Rex might not play the game, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one hell of a swing. It took me over an hour to realize he wasn’t nearly as drunk as my stupid ass was. By the time he bet me he could knock more balls out of the park than I could, and if he won I’d have to shave my head, I was already too cocky to care.
“What,” he taunts, as he takes a few steps towards the shop's entrance. “Afraid the ladies won’t fall at your feet if you chop it all off, Casanova? God, you’re like damn Uncle Jessie from that stupid 90s sitcom. Just think of all the money your ass will save on conditioner.”
“Easy for you to say,” I joke, even though, if I am being honest, I am a little fucking nervous. “The ladies all fall at your feet regardless. In fact, I don’t remember a time when you didn’t have a different girl every night of the week warming your bed.”
“Fall to their feet, knees, whatever works,” Rex winks as he pulls open the door leading to the salon. The cool burst of air from inside mixes with the smell of chemicals, bleaches, dyes and shampoo, making my regret turn to panic. The bell of the door chimes as it closes, and Rex and I wait to be helped. Women run back and forth while their clients sit in black, short-backed chairs in front of large mirrors. Three customers sit in the waiting room, restlessly biding their time for their appointments. My eyes nervously scan the room where at least twelve booths are already occupied.
“Well shit,” Rex says as he steps toward the counter. “I didn’t think we’d have to wait. Why the hell is this place busy on a Tuesday at 2:30 in the afternoon?”
I follow him up to the counter slowly, wishing I could kick my own ass for being a damn fool last night and thinking I could outhit Rex on the field.
“I’m sorry someone will be right with you,” an irritated worker says as she walks behind the front counter, grabs a supply, and then storms back off towards her booth.
Rex leans against the counter, and openly stares at her ass as she walks away.
“I’d be a whole lot better if you were the one helping me, sweetheart,” he whistles after her. She stops in her tracks and angrily swings around to meet his hungry stare. He grins, then gives her an arrogant wink, and she is damn putty in his hungry hands.
“If you’re not in a hurry, I can help you next,” she flirts back, before turning around and starting to walk back to her booth. “I’m just about done…” she stutters nervously, before biting her bottom lip, “and I have a break between clients coming up.”
When she finally breaks his stare and goes back to her work, Rex laughs. “God, you know Hunter,” he says, grabbing a hold of my shoulder and making me look him in the eyes. “Sometimes, it is just too damn easy. I like a woman who makes me work for it.”
Something flashes across his features, a recognition of sorts, but before I can make fun of him for it, a girl walks out of the back room located to the right of the front counter.
She fumbles with the items in her hands before dropping a couple to the floor. Her dark hair cascades in breathtaking waves across her face. My eyes immediately search to see more. As if pulled on a damn wire, I round the counter and come to her side. Kneeling, I help her pick up the items as my eyes beg her to look up. She pulls a few strands of hair behind her ear, and finally meets my stare through some adorable as fuck thin red-rimmed glasses, and shyly smiles.
Innocent. Genuine. Pure.
The look she gives me sparks something back to life inside my soul that I haven’t felt in years. A feeling, a knowledge, a fucking truth that there are still authentic, natural, and perfectly wholesome people left in this world.
“Thank you,” she whispers, as she stands and her stare once again finds the floor in front of us. She hugs the items tightly to her chest. I stand back up, looking down longingly on her small frame. Petite, with curves for days, her body’s a perfect fucking figure eight I would love to run my hands all over. Slowly, leisurely, as we stand in silence and the sounds of the salon fade, I attempt to memorize every damn mouth-watering inch of her.
“It was my pleasure,” I whisper, subconsciously taking a step closer.
The feeling that my soul knows hers is unsettling, and makes me want to understand why I’m suddenly so captivated by her. I know I have never seen her before, I would remember a girl as beautiful as her. I would remember the inescapable entrancing feeling of standing in her presence. The way I’m drawn to her hints there is something between us that needs to be discovered. If that wasn’t enough, every cell in my body vibrates with the need to know more of her, and never let her out of my sight again.
“Rochelle!” The shop girl from earlier yells.
The woman in front of me, who I now know is Rochelle, jumps, and a small piece of my heart jolts with her.
“Where have you been?” her coworker snaps. “We have customers who have been waiting!” She looks adoringly at Rex, and gives him that same sex-kitten smile from earlier.
