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His eyes widen. “Pardon me?”
Shaking my head, I chuckle. “Remember…you called me last night, asked if you could stop by today and have me look over your resume.”
“Oh.” He considers the statement long enough to shrug. “It’s in my car. But I don’t feel like doing that now.”
“Don’t you need to update it though?” The previous night when he phoned and spent thirty minutes rambling about his sudden urge to relocate and take a job with a swanky salon in San Francisco, he made it seem like he’d already made his decision and the resume update was nothing more than a formality. Clearly that is not the case.
He shrugs again. “I don’t know. I’m happy where I am. For now.”
Davis frowns in confusion. “What is it you do?”
Gunner grins and sits straight up in his chair, throwing his arms wide. “Hair stylist to the stars, baby.”
I offer an exaggerated eye roll. “Since when have you ever worked on celebrities? And you can’t count the one time Neal Patrick Harris stopped into your salon and asked for directions.”
He shoots me a narrow-eyed glare. “Rude.”
I direct my response to Davis. “Gunner is part owner ofFlare, a one-stop shop, salon and day spa.”
“Oh yeah? That’s cool.”
Gunner shrugs as if it’s no big deal, falling back into his chair while simultaneously pulling his glasses over his eyes once more. “It would be, if the other owner wasn’t such an incredible ass.”
“So that’s why the resume needs to be updated?” Davis looks back and forth between the two of us, attempting to get all the details.
Gunner and Jack started their business together a decade ago, when Jack was fresh out of business school and Gunner had perfected his ability to give the perfect cut and color. Their close friendship made the transition to business partners easy, in the beginning at least. The past few years things between the two of them have been severely strained and yet neither is willing to reveal what has caused the rift. I have a few ideas of my own, starting and ending with the unrequited love I fully believe Jack has for Gunner. But the two are like oil and water, complete opposites in every single way. What once seemed like a match made in heaven, has slowly disintegrated over time, leaving Gunner feeling like he needs to cut his losses and run. Hence, the resume update.
Gunner rises quickly, which I know is his way of ending the conversation. “I need to make a call.”
The moment he’s gone, I give Davis a quick synopsis of their history, then reach out and take his hand in mine once more. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Busy week?” Sure, we’ve talked daily, but I feel like it’s imperative that we reconnect fully now. “Everything alright at home?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, week was busy.” He averts his eyes. “Don’t really want to talk about the rest.”
I’m itching to push for more, but I remind myself that he needs to deal with this in his own way. And if it means keeping his home life and us separate, I’m okay with that.For now.
“I was planning on calling you today to see if you want to join all of us for dinner tonight.”
Davis shrugs. “Sure. Dinner sounds good.”
After a quick check to make certain we’re alone, I lean toward him, skimming my knuckles along his stubbled jaw. My thumb rubs slowly over his bottom lip and I smile when I see his eyes darken with need.
Our lips meet without pause, his insistent tongue begging for entrance. His palm curves around the back of my head, warm fingers sinking into the hair at my nape. There’s nothing hurried or frantic about this kiss. It’s a long, slow slide of lips and tongues that gets my heart racing and sends far too many ideas rolling through my head. It’s easy to imagine the two of us together in only the best of ways; from simple kisses shared on the patio to long nights spent rolling around in my bed. It’s not difficult to believe in this moment that everything is seamless between us. Perfect. Right.
But as with all good things, reality has that sneaky way of jumping in and tossing cold water on all those ideas and dreams. There’s the sound of feet quickly stepping out onto the concrete, an over-exaggerated moan that doesn’t come from either myself or Davis, and the obnoxious sound of Gunner’s voice as he states, “My God…the two of you are hot. Keep going. I’m filing this all away for my spank bank.”
Shaking my head at my crazy friend, I offer Davis a small contrite smile, and allow my thumb one more sweep over his now wet lower lip, whispering, “Rain check.”
He’s laughing, which I’m grateful for, rolling his eyes at Gunner and flushing in the most adorable way, stating, “I’m going to forget you said that.”
Gunner flops into his chair and fans himself. “Please don’t. It’s a compliment. Not every kiss I observe can get me hard.” He makes a big show of adjusting himself. “Would you guys mind if I join in? Could be fun.”
As crazy as he is, I’m all too aware that he uses his flamboyance and snark to cover up a very delicate heart. Gunner is all about the show, but I’ve seen the softer side of him many times. I’ve seen the man who sat on my couch one rainy Sunday afternoon and cried silent tears for over an hour; without explanation. I’ve seen the heartache he tries to hide when he and Jack are in the same room, and Jack is deliberately ignoring him. He’s never once confided in me about their relationship, but I understand fully that Gunner is much more fragile than he lets anyone else believe. His big, soft heart may eventually be his downfall. I refuse to admit that I could say the same thing about myself.
I give Davis’s hand a squeeze and direct my comment to my friend. “Yes, we would mind.”
Gunner shrugs and sighs dramatically. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying.”
