The Boyfriend Experience (The Boyfriend Experience 1)

“I’ll tell you what,” she went on. “If you’re willing to come back around six thirty this evening, which is after my last appointment for the day, I’d be happy to give you a haircut.”

“Okay, that works for me,” he said, and knowing she had clients to attend to, he didn’t want to take up any more of her time. “You get back to your customer, and I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Sounds good,” she said, her eyes sparkling happily. “I’ll see you then.”

After leaving the shop, Eric drove back to the office for the afternoon, and between fires he and Leo had to put out, phone calls, and paperwork, the time passed quickly. When he returned to Beauty and Bliss at the designated time, the only person left in the salon was Evie. The place was cleaned up, like none of it had ever happened.

“Hey,” Evie greeted him from where she was by her station. “Mind locking the door behind you? We’re officially closed for the evening, thank goodness.”

She sounded exhausted, but she was smiling, like the day had been a good one. He turned the lock to secure the door, then walked over to her. “Thanks for making time for me. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem,” she said, waving away his thanks. “It’s nice and quiet in here now, and your haircut shouldn’t take very long. Have a seat in my chair.”

He sat down, and as she grabbed the black hair-cutting cape and attached it around his neck, her stomach growled, long and loud.

She laughed in embarrassment. “Well, that was obnoxious.”

He chuckled. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“Nothing substantial since breakfast,” she said with a shake of her head as she lifted the lid on the cabinet in front of them, revealing a shampoo bowl beneath. “It’s been one customer after another all day. I’ll grab something after we’re done here.”

“I’m actually hungry, too. How about I order us a pepperoni and mushroom pizza with extra cheese?” Yeah, he was shamelessly suggesting her favorite food.

She met his gaze, her eyes dancing playfully. “You really are trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said with a wink, and taking that as a yes, he brought his phone out in front of him and opened up his favorite pizza delivery app.

“While you’re doing that, I need to get some towels,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

By the time she returned, the order was placed. She turned his chair around, lowered the back part, and started shampooing his hair so she could cut it wet. Her nails lightly scratching against his scalp felt amazing . . . and the view he had looking up at her wasn’t bad, either. She was wearing a formfitting black T-shirt with the wording Beautiful You stamped across her breasts, and as she leaned over him from the side, they came precariously close to brushing against the side of his cheek.

If he could have turned his head, he would have . . . because then he’d be positioned perfectly to bury his face in her full, generous tits. Unfortunately, all he could do was ogle them, and she must have felt his heated stare because her nipples tightened against the cotton fabric of her shirt.

She quickly finished rinsing his hair, towel dried the strands, then sat him back up. When she lowered the top of the cabinet, he could see her standing behind him in the mirror’s reflection. The adorable flush on her skin and the way she was biting her lower lip told him she was trying to ignore the way her body had just reacted to him.

She combed through his wet hair and met his gaze in the mirror, hers apologetic. “I’m really sorry about what happened when you stopped by the shop earlier.”

He knew exactly what she was referring to. “Did I do or say something to make all those women uncomfortable?” he asked, because he still had no idea why they’d reacted so strangely when he’d walked into the salon.

“Not you, specifically,” she said, using her shears to cut a good inch off of the ends of his hair. “I’m pretty sure they would have reacted that way to any man who walked in, because for one thing, men aren’t allowed at the Beautiful You program, and for another, all those women you saw here today are survivors of domestic violence.”

“Shit.” He couldn’t contain his shock. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea . . .”

“Of course you didn’t know,” she rushed to assure him. “I’m pretty sure when they saw you walk in, their first thought was that you were an abusive boyfriend or husband looking for one of the women in the salon. They were staring at you because they were nervous.”

Jesus, now it all made sense. The immediate hush, the wary looks, and why Evie had alleviated the tension in the place by letting all those ladies know that he was a friend of hers. That he wasn’t a threat to any of them. He couldn’t imagine what any of those women had gone through in their personal lives, but clearly Evie was trying to do something nice for them.