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“Yup.” Derek pulled up sections of Dylan’s hair and trimmed the ends. “The studio owner wanted to talk about Michelle. She thought that Michelle could be a rare talent. Said she had perfect turn out, amazing feet. An innate understanding of how to move her body.”
“Wow.”
“I had no idea what it meant at the time. But she also asked if my mom could start doing their hair before class because it kept coming down from their buns and getting in their way.” Derek pulled a wet comb up through another section of Dylan’s hair. “Unfortunately, this was March when this all happened.”
“Oh… Tax season.”
“Sure was. I couldn’t bug her with my sisters’ hair. My dad told me to figure it out on my own. I tried. Olive tried too. Olive’s hair was totally different, and really, Olive is still hopeless at her own hair. So, again, I marched into another place. In this case it was the salon three doors down from the ballet studio, and I begged someone there to show me how to do my sisters’ hair. This was before YouTube tutorials. I didn’t have a lot of options.”
Dylan was surprised to feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “You’re a good brother.”
Derek ignored the compliment. “I hung out there while the girls took classes. Shari, a Korean woman who worked there, showed me how to work with different textures and ways to make it stay put and what products worked best. Stuff that wouldn’t damage it. She taught me how to braid. I didn’t even know what a bobby pin was. All that shit.” Derek swiveled the chair the other way, facing Dylan away from the mirror. “To make the rest of a long story short, I started working at the salon. Shampooing, then apprenticeship. I went to school, got licensed. I worked four years full time as a hair stylist so I could stay close by while my sisters were young.”
“When did you do nursing?”
Derek rubbed some other thick product onto his hand that smelled like lilacs and then pulled his fingertips through Dylan’s hair. “When Olive started looking into nursing after undergrad, it made me think back to what classes I’d actually liked in high school. The girls were doing great, and my mom’s job was less demanding at that point. I started thinking about whether I wanted to keep working at the salon or just do something different.”
“Long time to be doing something you fell into.”
“Exactly.” Derek crouched slightly, so he was at eye level with Dylan in the office chair. He stretched out a couple of sections of wet strands. When their gazes met, this sweet twinkle came into Derek’s eyes and one half of his mouth perked up. Appearing satisfied with the cut, Derek stood and pushed the hair back, twisting and spiraling his fingers to shape curls. “I always knew I liked using my hands. Science and anatomy interested me. I was really into The Discovery Channel’s Medical Mysteries shows. I narrowed it down to physical therapy and nursing. I took classes at night, then I got into nursing school at the same place as Olive for the BSN program while she did the master’s program. PT school would’ve taken a lot longer. Made the decision easy. I cut hair to make money all through school so my mom wouldn’t worry about me. She could save for Amy’s college and all of Michelle’s dance classes…” Derek spun the chair around. “What do you think?”
Dylan’s mouth fell open. It was just as Derek had described. He left the top almost as long as it had been, but whatever magic potion he’d used had tamed it. Instead of wild and frizzy, it was controlled and tailored. Honestly, Dylan thought his hair looked pretty damn hot. He stood to get a closer look in the mirror. “Shit, you’re really good at this.”
Derek unsnapped the cape around his neck with a nimble flick of fingers. “Yep, I am.” He put a crooked section of hair back in place. His fingers lingered around Dylan’s ears, his hip pushing up against Dylan’s from behind. “I bet it’s the best haircut you’ve ever had.”
“Cocky asshole.” Dylan grabbed his glasses from where Derek had put them on the counter.
“That too.”
“I hadn’t even thought about it, but it’s probably good I won’t show up to that meeting in California looking sloppy.”
“Did the timing get worked out yet?”
Dylan frowned. “A week from Thursday. Just got the email before I came down.”
Derek grabbed a broom and swept up the hair into a dustpan.
“Hey, I can do that.” Dylan put his hand over Derek’s to try to take the broom.
Derek shrugged. “It takes a second. You and your sister are literally replacing the drywall in my bedroom for the cost of materials. Just let me do this. Kay?”
“Kay.” Dylan grinned.
Derek brushed hair off his shoulder. “You should change your shirt. That drape’s old and some hair got through it in the back.” He found Dylan a T-shirt from his clean laundry hamper. Derek must have washed some of Dylan’s clothes with his own earlier.
Suppressing another of what Dylan was sure would be an extremely dopey grin, Dylan pulled off his shirt.
“What’s that?” Derek said with genuine surprise.
Confused, Dylan looked down.
Derek snorted and he walked right over and touched the straight barbell at Dylan’s nipple. “How did I not notice this?”
A small shiver went through Dylan as goose bumps rose all over his freckled skin.
“It was dark both times you’ve seen me shirtless, and it’s pretty small.”
“You really are like an onion.”