Free Take Your Time (Fate and Circumstance #2) by Leddy Harper Page B

whatever temperature you wanted, but I didn’t mean it’d be okay to give me third-degree burns.” The corners of his lips were curled up, letting me know his words were meant to tease me, but I knew better. His previous flinching proved that I had, in fact, burned him, so I could only assume his playful manner was meant to spare my feelings. And that only served to make him even more confusing to me. He’d make a bold statement by grabbing himself, only to ease my distress by making a joke of how I’d burned him.
    “I’m so sorry, Bentley. I wasn’t paying attention.”
    “You’re fine. Maybe we both need the cold water.”
    I smirked and rolled my eyes as I turned my back to him. I needed the conditioner, which sat on the counter behind the sinks, but I also needed a moment to breathe. I needed the space to clear my head, calm my erratic pulse, and lose the burning sensation that had taken over my face. Before pumping the conditioner in my palm, I grabbed a towel from the cabinet above, and tossed it at him over my shoulder. The deep rumble of his chuckle filtered through the air, masking the music playing through the speakers, and fell upon me like a calming touch.
    Once I fully turned back around, ready to give him another rubdown, I noticed he understood my reason for giving him the towel. He had it in a rumpled ball in his lap, covering the distractive part of his body that kept me from doing my job right.
    “Sorry about that.” He shifted again, seeming to be more comfortable in his seat. “I can’t say that’s ever happened before.”
    “How often do you get your hair washed?”
    “Well, I wash it all the time in the shower.” He laughed, knowing that wasn’t what I’d meant by my question, and it caused his chest to shake. “But I’ve never gone somewhere to have it washed. In fact, I’ve never stepped foot inside an actual salon before. I usually go to the cheap places in strip malls when I need a cut, and they usually just wet it with a spray bottle. I must admit, though, this is kinda nice, except for the hot water part.”
    “A decent scalp massage is good for hair growth, too.” I was glad he could no longer see my face, because it twisted with humiliation once the words were out. I had no idea why I’d said that, other than it was proof of just how inside out he had turned me. It was as if he caused me comfort and discomfort at the same time. Which made absolutely no sense at all. I desperately wanted to get to the root of it so I could make it go away. Either that, or he needed to go away.
    “Good to know. Although it seems to be rather damaging in other ways.”
    “A lot of people become… affected like that when their scalp is massaged. It just means you have erogenous zones there. But I can’t say I’ve ever seen proof of that before. It actually strokes my ego a bit.” My throat grew tight when I said “strokes,” causing me to think of something else other than my ego.
    “Why would it boost your ego? I’m fairly certain you’re aware of your effect on men.” He’d said so much without putting it into words. It was an implication about how we’d met, what I’d been doing when he found me in the bar. I’d admitted to him that I was a sexual person, and had no shame in it, yet it seemed as though he felt compelled to speak of it in a sensitive manner.
    “My goal in life is to be the Adele of hair, in every aspect. You’ve proven to me that I’m one hell of a shampooer.” I wore a grin on my face that he couldn’t see, but I’m sure he heard it in my voice. “So that at least lets me know I’m one step closer to reaching my goal.”
    “What exactly is an Adele of hair?” His brow furrowed and his eyes closed as soon as I turned the water back on to rinse out the conditioner—this time, testing the temperature first.
    “Adele is like a music god. It’s indisputable. And I want to be like that, but with hair instead of songs.” I finished rinsing his hair,