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“Likewise, Logan,” I reply, feeling a strange pull toward him. “You sure you’re just a reporter?”
“For now,” he says cryptically, turning around because his order is ready. “See you around, Dash.”
“See you around,” I echo, watching him walk away. There’s something about Logan that I can’t quite put my finger on. His scent lingers, a mix of something familiar and yet new, sparking my curiosity. I find myself looking forward to our next encounter, wondering what other surprises he might have in store. It’s been a while since I’ve met someone who piqued my interest so quickly outside of the pack. For now, I’m content to let the mystery unfold naturally, excited about the possibility of a new friendship, or maybe something more.
With my food in hand, I make my way back. The afternoon sun casts long shadows on the pavement, and I find myself thinking about the future in a way I haven’t in years. Maybe it’s Malachi and the pack’s influence, or maybe it’s just Aria. Either way, I feel a subtle but undeniable change in my perspective.
By the time I reach the salon, I have a plan—I’ll take it slow, earn her trust, and maybe I’ll get to see what lies beneath the surface of the alluring Aria. With a deep breath, I push the door open, the bell above jingling cheerfully. Claudia glances up from her magazine, a knowing smile on her lips.
“Back so soon?” she teases.
“Couldn’t stay away,” I reply with a wink, “and I brought reinforcements.”
I hold up the bag of tacos and churros triumphantly, and Claudia’s eyes light up. “You’re a lifesaver,” she says, grabbing the bag and peeking inside. “Aria’s in the back.”
I nod, my heart beating a little faster. As I make my way to the backroom, I run my sweaty palms down my worn jeans. There is another woman in a chair with a bunch of tin foil in her hair like she’s trying to get the best radio station.
Aria glances up as I enter the backroom, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of me. “That was fast,” she remarks, setting down her oversized drink bottle.
Good, she’s hydrating.
“I aim to please,” I reply with a grin, holding up the bag of food. “Hungry?”
“Starving, actually.” She stands, stretching her arms above her head, and I can’t help but admire the way her shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of smooth skin. “Gimme.”
I tear my gaze away before she catches me staring and gesture to the woman in the chair. “Client?”
Aria nods. “Mrs. Kowalski. She’s a regular.” She leans closer, lowering her voice. “Comes in every six weeks like clockwork for her cut and highlights.”
I chuckle, picturing Aria dealing with the woman’s demands. “Sounds riveting.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, it is. There’s nothing like the smell of bleach to really get the appetite going.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing I brought tacos.” I set the bag down on the counter and start unpacking the foil-wrapped food.
The room is small and packed with more stuff than is necessary. Aria grabs the bag and a timer and jerks her head to the backdoor. “Picnic with me?” She glances at the timer. “I have twenty minutes before I have to get back to it.”
“Speaking my language.” I hold my own meal, and without hesitation, I follow Aria out the backdoor and into a small, sunlit courtyard. The space is cramped but charming, with potted plants lining the brick walls and a wrought iron table tucked into a corner. She sets the bag of tacos down and plops into one of the chairs, motioning for me to join her.
As I sit, I can’t help but notice how the sun catches the highlights in her hair, turning the locks to an almost silvery blonde, with the faded pink strands standing out even more. It’s obviously not her natural color, but I’m not sure I’d want to ever see her natural color when this is an option. Aria unwraps a taco and takes a big bite, closing her eyes in bliss as the flavors hit her tongue. A small moan escapes her, sending a jolt of electricity through me. There’s something incredibly satisfying about seeing her enjoy something I brought her. It’s the simple moments like these that make me want to know everything about her.
“Good?” I ask, my voice coming out a bit rougher than intended. My cock strains against my jeans, and thankfully, my T-shirt falls over little Dash.
She nods enthusiastically, swallowing before replying. “Amazing. I haven’t had tacos this good in ages.”
“Not even the other night, when Quinn drove you home?” I challenge.
She squints at me before she looks back at her taco. “Did you get tacos from somewhere else as some kind of competition?”
Yes. Yes, I did, and I can’t wait to tell Quinn what she said. “Do I look like the kind of guy who would do that?”
“Yes,” she says without a moment of hesitation, “and I’m not mad about it.”
Laughter bubbles out of me, because she already has me pegged, and I’m pretty sure I’m in love.
I watch as Aria devours her taco, savoring every bite like it’s her last meal on earth. There’s something undeniably sexy about a woman who knows how to enjoy her food—no pretense or dainty nibbles, just pure, unadulterated pleasure.
“I need to know everything about you,” I say, leaning back in my chair and fixing her with a curious gaze. “Why did you choose to become a hairstylist, Aria?”
