Madden's thumbs tap dance across the screen of his phone and his voice rises above the buzz of the electric razor. "I think I finally know what love is, man."

My head snaps over at my brother so fast I almost lose the tip of my ear to the barber's clippers. "Hey, watch it, dude." Rough-looking tattooed hands steady my shoulders and the barber barks in a gruff voice. "My insurance doesn’t covernsnipped off body parts."

Clinton is really damn good at his job. But he’s a bit lacking in the customer service department. I mutter a quiet apology to the barber and take the phone from my brother as he stretches it my way.

A pair of plump breasts greet me when my eyes land on the screen. They look like they’re filled with helium and if this poor girl so much as sneezes, they’ll go kaboom! “Another prospect from CheekyChat, huh?” I fight the urge to shake my head.

“Prospect?” My brother says, feigning offense. “This woman is my soulmate.” He waves in the direction of the phone, forcing me to examine the photo more closely.

She has a nice body, I guess, but she doesn't appear to be big on hygiene. Her purple-green hair is matted to her forehead, her skin is greasy as hell and I'm hoping that's just a burnt popcorn kernel wedged between her two front teeth. And don't get me started about the dirty laundry and takeout wrappers littering the background in the selfie. "You're an idiot," I say with a slight laugh as I toss the phone back at him. "Your dick is gonna fall off from messing with the girls on that app."

Jason Cruz chuckles in his chest as he snips at the ends of Madden’s hair. My brother addresses his clean-cut, impeccably-groomed barber. "Isn’t my brother a self-righteous prick today? Don’t mind him. He can't help it. His ex-girlfriend is back in town and he’s a whole new man. I don’t even recognize him anymore. It's like she's got the remote control to his dick or something."

I hear Clinton chuff from somewhere over my shoulder. "Man, when the right woman gets her hands on that remote control, trust me—you won't be complaining." A wry grin splashes across his usually-stoic features. With that, he saunters away with a noticeable hop in his step.

Madden’s eyes follow Clinton as he disappears into the back of the shop. "Wait—you, too, man? Everybody I know is catching this bug. Is it something in the water in this town?" His face is painted with shock, disgust and disappointment.

Cruz laughs and speaks in a low voice. "Clinton? Oh never mind his tough guy exterior. He’s totally whipped. He gets grumpy when he goes a few hours without seeing his woman. But once he's had a dose of her, he's just a big, inked up teddy bear."

“I heard that,” Clinton hollers as he reappears with a fresh set of clippers in his hand. He chuckles gruffly. "You're one to talk, Cruz." He points the razor at his co-worker as he speaks to my brother and me. "This guy has a fancy, fashion magazine editor for a girlfriend. She wears his balls as earrings. Matches nicely with her Prada handbag."

My laughter rings out but Madden isn’t amused. He shakes his head, clearly disappointed by the news. "Man...I'd gladly give a woman a 'pearl necklace' if that's what she's after. But my balls? No woman's taking ownership of my balls." He cups his groin protectively.

The Rusty Razor is the place to get a haircut in Copper Heights. Usually, it’s packed wall-to-wall, but today, Madden and I got lucky. It must be the weather. We’re the only customers in the shop. And for better or worse, the barbers, Clinton and Cruz, are in the mood to shoot the shit.

The barbers exchange a look. "You don't know what you're missing out on,” Cruz tells Madden. “There's nothing like the love of a good woman. All the brittle, jagged edges of the world smooth away with the touch of a good woman."

Madden rolls his eyes. “You sound like you’re about to start your period.”

Grunted, masculine laughter fills the room.

“One day, you’ll understand.” Cruz gives him a pitying look and pats him on the shoulder. Then he turns his attention to me. "So, what's the deal with this mysterious ex-girlfriend, fireman?"

"Like Madden said, she’s back in town." That’s all I offer.

"All these titillating details!" Cruz laughs. "I'm scandalized!"

I snort out a laugh and scrub my palm along my jaw. "She was my high school sweetheart and I don't wanna sound trite, but she’s just not the type of girl you get over. Fucking beautiful. Smart. She knows literally everything. No need for Google when she's around. Plus, she's competitive. Ambitious and stubborn. Conquering her was like winning the damn Olympics..." My words trail off and I stare at my miserable face in the mirror while the other men wait for the rest of my story.

"So what happened?" Clinton asks eventually as he drags a hard brush over my hair.

I shrug. "I had the opportunity of a lifetime. I didn't want to hold her back while I pursued it."

My brother chuffs out bitterly. "That's bullshit and you know it!"

I should have known he wouldn't let me get away with that half-truth. "It's part of the picture..." I say weakly. "Things got complicated after my father died. My family had some tough situations to face. I made bad decisions. They caught up with me.” I release a loaded sigh. “She was so sweet, so innocent and she had such a bright future ahead of her. I didn't want to destroy her in the process."

In a rare moment of seriousness, Madden's voice is cryptic. "You never told that girl the truth. That was unfair. You let her walk away thinking that you'd given her up for the most selfish, superficial reason. I'm not a specialist on women's feelings but rejection like that must have been devastating for her."

"I was 17, man. I was a kid. I didn't know how to handle all the shit that was happening. I made a mistake." Yes, I’m being super vague about what happened but I don’t need these guys digging into the nitty gritty of my life and spitting out their advice. My mom’s got that covered.

All week, she’s been blowing up my phone with text messages and voice mails, asking if I’ve tried to reach out to Angie. She even created a Pinterest board full of ideas for how to win my ex back. The woman has gone overboard.

I don’t need anybody else’s interference. Angie and I aren’t getting back together. I should probably just accept it. There’s nothing I can do that will make her stop hating me.

Clinton's gaze connects with mine. "Well, you're not 17 anymore. And from the miserable look on your face, I'm thinking that maybe you should try and fix it." 

He thinks it's that simple. "The girl won't even talk to me. Whenever she looks at me, all she does is shoot daggers my way."

He presses a fist into my shoulder. "Dude—dump your excuses. Women aren't that complicated.

"Do bequeath us with your knowledge, oh wise one," Cruz spits out sarcastically.

Clinton shoots him a glare. "A woman basically just wants to know that the man she gives her heart to has her back, that he's looking out for her, that he values and respects her, and that no matter what bullshit life throws her way, she's got some place warm and safe to fall.” He watches me with a lifted brow. “If this girl is giving you a hard time, it's probably because deep down, she wants you. I know it sounds like the usual dumb shit guys say to make themselves feel better but it's the truth. Trust me. When I met Vivian, she did everything she could think of to keep me away. But I was onto her. Every time she looked at me, I could see that lust right beneath the surface. And when I finally showed her that it was safe to let that lust free, it was fucking explosive.” He grins, satisfaction radiating from his face. “If you broke that girl’s heart once, show her that you've learned your lesson and that you'd never disappoint her again. And then, make sure you never disappoint her again. It may take time and effort, but if she's as special as you say she is, it'll be worth the investment."

Sitting in silence, I let those words simmer in my mind. Is it really that simple? Is the key to winning Angie back just letting her know that she can trust me with her heart this time?

"Told you he was a big fucking teddy bear," Cruz mumbles under his breath.

Clinton shrugs a shoulder and speaks in a gruff tone. “What can I say? My girl put me in touch with my softer side.”

A chorus of low chuckles bounces off the walls.

The barber tears the cape from around my neck and dusts the loose hairs away. "You're all set, man." He heads over to the cash register. Madden is already standing there, waiting to pay.

Cruz pulls me aside. "The stuff that Clinton said sounds corny as fuck but the guy is right—if you want that girl back, just let her know she can trust you with her body and her heart."

I nod, letting the words sink in. As I’m exiting the shop, I slap palms and bump shoulders with the barbers as a parting gesture but their advice plays in my head for the rest of the week.