Apparently, all this time, I was worried for nothing.
“Thank you.” The customer nods and walks off.
“You’re the best.” I pull her in for a hug.
“Love you.” Instead of returning my hug, her hands work the knot behind my back, ridding me of the apron. “See you at home.”
“See you.”
Butterflies swarm my belly as I get ready to leave.
I snatch my hoodie from under the counter and pull it on, grab my phone, and hand my shoulder bag to Hope to take home. After sayinghito the evening shift, I scoop up a large, empty takeout box to complete the delivery-lady-and-not-stalker look, pop it open, and take off.
I speed-walk through the hospital halls, make it out the main entrance, and there he is. Alaric is tall enough to stand out in any crowd, making it easy to spot him.
However, the warmth in my body doesn’t last. It fades two blocks later, when he passes the turn to his apartment building and keeps going straight.
Both curiosity and jealousy have my heart hammering against my rib cage.
For a moment.
Only until I see him go into a barbershop instead of one of the nearby buildings.
Since there are no other customers there, or maybe because he booked an appointment earlier, Alaric is shown to a chair right away.
He sets the coffee on the barber’s counter, then shrugs off his bag. In one elegant motion, he slides the straps onto the armrest beside him and settles into the chair.
My nipples peak into tight points as I watch his large frame fill the seat completely.
The barber tells him something before tipping Alaric’s head back so he can wash his hair.
Then…
Holy. Shit.
His strong throat is on full display, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.
I’d give anything to run my tongue over it.
Any-fucking-thing.
Not yet.
I am tempted, though. Incredibly so. Especially when Alaric lets his eyes flutter shut while the barber sprays water over his head. When he lathers shampoo into Alaric’s hair, I’m about to spontaneously combust.
That is, until a group of teenagers walks past the corner where I’m hiding. They talk about football, their loud voices dousing the fire in my body until nothing’s left.
I’m not pissed or anything. In a way, I’m grateful. If it weren’t for them, I might’ve let my hormones rule my actions, and that wouldn’t have ended well.
Calmer than before, I’m able to admire my doctor in peace. With his hair washed, the barber snaps the cape around Alaric’s neck and gets started on his haircut. I watch as he clips the sides and tapers the back, then trims the top.
My gaze tracks each strand of hair as it falls onto the cape. But then there’s a shift in the air, calling me to look up at Alaric’s face.
He appears pensive.
Could he be thinking of me?
Or maybe memories of that night from seven years ago are flooding back?