He held back, however, not wanting to make this anymore difficult or awkward for her. “How much for the cut?” “What?” “The haircut,” Gunnar said. “How much? Fifteen?” “Um…” He held out a twenty and nodded. “Keep the change.” She frowned and took it. Gunnar wanted to close his fingers around hers, but didn’t. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” Reluctantly, slowly, Gunnar grabbed his jacket and put it on, watching the man watch Tyler and Tyler ignore both of them. Whatever progress that had been made between them had all been unraveled tonight, he could feel it, and he knew this man would only make the regression worse. With a final nod to Tyler, who had looked up upon the door’s bell ringing, Gunnar left the shop, his mind whirring with solutions on how to fix the rip in their relationship. “I didn’t know white men came way out here for a cut.” “Coworker of Damon’s,” Tyler said absently, noting how the comment had mirrored hers to Gunnar when he’d first entered the shop.
