My best friend, Frannie, had become my hairstylist when I met her two years ago, which was a good and bad thing. Since she never let me pay for my cuts, I felt bad making appointments and taking up her time, so she squeezed me in whenever she had the chance—which was not often enough for my baby-fine highlighted hair.

I drove to her salon in a little town called Tiber City, twenty minutes from my place in Baltimore. I didn’t call ahead, hoping she’d take me when she saw my pitiful face and ragged split ends.

After I found street parking near the salon, I stopped by the local coffee shop to buy some bribes. If Frannie was too busy to cut my hair, maybe Rachel or Eliza—my friends and the owners of the salon—would do it with coffee and sweets as incentive.

With a bag full of cookies and a carryout tray of iced coffees, I walked up the hilly main street to Salon 410, an adorable little building with large picture windows and smoky purple wood paneling. Through the windows, I could see the salon was at full capacity, but I still held out hope.

The door chimed as I struggled to open it with an elbow and a foot, my hands too full to be of much use. The receptionist, Rebekah, came running around her desk to help me.

“Hey, Laurel. Nice to see you! Did you bring us treats?” she asked.

She took the bag out of my hand and I set the tray of coffees on the desk.

“They’re bribes. Can anyone squeeze me in? My hair is a tragedy.”

She bit her lip and looked at the computer. “I can ask, but everyone’s pretty booked up today.” She ran her finger down the screen and stopped. “Actually, our new stylist, Avi, has time coming up.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Avi?”

She leaned in and whispered. “You haven’t heard about Avi yet?”

As I shook my head, Frannie walked up to the desk with her client and handed her off to Rebekah to take care of.

“Hey, girl! What’re you doing here?” She pulled me into a hug, smooshing my face into her chest.

When she let me go, I opened the paper bag. “I brought goodies!”

She peered in and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie. “Yum. I haven’t had a chance to eat anything today. I’ve been slammed.”

“So, you don’t happen to have time to cut my hair, do you?”

Just as the words left my mouth, the salon door opened and Frannie greeted the woman who walked in.

She shook her head. “Sorry, that’s my next client.”

“That’s okay. Should I let Avi cut my hair?”

Frannie arched an eyebrow. “You should definitely let Avi cut your hair. You’ll love Avi.”

“Avi’s good?” I asked.

“Avi’s great.”

She laughed wickedly and directed her client back to her chair.

I turned to Rebekah, who was finishing checking out Frannie’s last client. “Put me down for Avi, please.”

Rebekah winked. “Got it.” She held up the paper bag I brought. “And I’ll make sure everyone gets one of your goodies!”

I sat in one of the chairs in the reception area sipping an iced coffee and flipping through a magazine. I was somewhat surprised Frannie hadn’t mentioned a new stylist working at the salon, but she must be talented since everyone who worked there was.

I looked up at Rebekah. “Should I go back to my natural color? I’ve been a blonde forever. Maybe it’s time for a change.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Hmmm...maybe brown would look good on you…”

A deep voice said, “No.”

To my left stood the source of that voice. A tall, devilishly handsome man. And by devilishly handsome, I meant so handsome, there must have been some evil involved in the creation of him. His skin was the color of desert sand at sunset, warm brown with a hint of gold. His hair was thick and black, combed smooth into a modern take on a pompadour. Above his dark eyes were thick, black eyebrows, which were furrowed as he studied me.

And damn was he tall. Everyone was tall compared to me, but he was tall compared to everyone.

When I regained my wits, I glanced from him to Rebekah, and then back to him, and scoffed, “No?”

“No, you should not change to brown. Blonde suits you,” he said.

He had an accent. Oh my.

I stood from my chair, and with my hand on my hip, asked, “And you’re an expert?”

He nodded once. “Yes.”

Rebekah giggled. “Laurel, meet Avi, our new stylist. Avi, Laurel is your next client.”

Well, that was unexpected. I don’t know why I thought Avi would be a woman, other than my own internal biases. What a treat it would be to have this tall drink of water running his hands through my hair.

I went to him and held out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Avi.”

He looked at my hand for a long beat, sneering as if it offended him, then slipped his hand over mine and pulled me a step closer.

“You need highlights too. Your roots are terrible,” he said.

I blinked up at him. “Sorry?”

“Do not apologize. I will fix you.”

Then, still holding my hand, he pulled me along with him, leading me to his chair at the back of the salon.

“Sit here. I’m going to mix up the colors for your highlights.”

He turned and left before I could ask, What colors? What highlights? We hadn’t discussed anything of the sort!

Instantly, my hackles were raised. Avi was a steamroller. A ridiculously handsome, alpha-male steamroller. I wasn’t a fan. Give me a nice guy who listens to my needs any day of the week.

I caught Frannie’s eye in the mirror and gave her a WTF look. She laughed and shrugged, then continued to apply color to her client’s hair. I looked around the salon while I waited and noticed Eliza wasn’t working, and Rachel was busy doing a blow-dry with her back turned to me. I hadn’t seen a lot of Rachel since she got married six months ago. When Frannie and I lived together, the three of us would have regular girls nights out in Baltimore, but those had become few and far between.

Now Frannie lived with her boyfriend, James, and Rachel was married with a baby on the way. And me? Well, I was still single and ready to mingle…minus the mingling. Mingling got me into a mess the last time I did it.

Avi came back carrying two color bowls. He set them down, draped a smock over me, then started combing my hair.

“You need a big haircut. At least five or six inches,” he said.

“Don’t you usually ask your clients what they want?”

He met my eyes in the mirror. “No. My clients come to me because I know what will make them look good. They are not trained in this business. I am.”

“But…” He had me stumped. I guessed I should have just accepted my fate, laid down in the middle of the road, and let him flatten me.

“Yes?”

“Just...make me pretty.”

“It would be impossible not to,” he said quietly. He pushed my head down gently and began painting color on my hair.

I sat quietly for several minutes, wondering how I’d gotten here. I’d driven to Tiber City expecting to spend time with my girls, maybe get a trim if I was lucky, and now this man, whose hands were surprisingly gentle given their size and his rough demeanor, was giving my hair a complete makeover.

I cleared my throat. “How long have you worked here, Avi?”

“Three months.”

“How do you like it?”

“It’s nice. Very nice.”

“Eliza, Frannie, and Rachel are my girls. Although, with everyone married or with a guy, I don’t see them as much anymore.”

“You don’t have a husband?” he asked.

“Nope. No man. I’m doing life on my own.”

He grunted.

“What does that sound mean?” I asked.

“I’m just surprised you don’t have a boyfriend. Men like little blonde women.”

I choked out a laugh. “You’re blunt, huh?”

“Why waste time being anything else?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Cultural norms? Politeness? I can think of a few reasons. And yes, some men do like little blonde women. But maybe I’m not looking for a man right now.”

Avi moved around to the side of my head and combed out his next section to color.

“Ah, yes. Well, I mostly grew up in Israel, so my cultural norms are not your cultural norms.” He clipped a chunk of my hair out of the way, and using the back of his comb, wove a fine section, then flattened it on a piece of foil and painted on a mystery color. “I have a feeling you don’t have to look for a man to find one.”

I snorted again. “On top of being blunt, you’re also very forward.”

“I’m truthful.”

His accent made every word that came out of his mouth beautiful. It reminded me of rolling hills and fiddle music. His R’s were hard, and his L’s were soft. I had the strongest urge to hear him say my name.

“Well, I’m too busy for men right now, even if I wanted one. I’m starting a new job tomorrow and I just bought this house in Baltimore I have to figure out how to fix up on my own. I’ll be spending my weekends painting and pulling up carpet and sanding floors. There will be no dating.”

“How many bedrooms does your house have?” he asked.

“Three.”

“Do you have a roommate?”

“No, it’s just me.”

“I know how to fix all those things,” he said.

I glanced at him in the mirror. “Uh, cool.”

“I can be your roommate. I will fix your house.”

My mouth fell open. “What?”

He nodded at me in the mirror. “I’m very handy. I know plumbing, electricity, carpentry. I can help you.”

“We just met,” I said.

“Yes, and you seem like an okay person. I am an okay person. I’m quiet and keep to myself. I am an ideal roommate.”

He tilted my head down and sectioned off the hair on top, and then continued to methodically apply foils.

“But I’m not looking for a roommate. And I’m more than an okay person, thank you very much!”

“You do seem to enjoy arguing.”

“I’m a lawyer, it’s in my blood.” I squeezed my eyes closed and sighed. “I’m not arguing. I’m just telling you I don’t want a roommate. I like living on my own.”

“You should think about it. I’ll live with you for six months, fix your place up, you give me a discount—we’re both happy.”

He applied the last foil, then tipped my chin up with his knuckles so he could see my face. “Look, I need a place to live and I like Baltimore. I can actually find Israeli food there.”

I stared at him from under my foils. He was too gorgeous for my own good, and unless my gaydar was completely off, he was straight. Despite that, I found myself softening. I could use some help, and six months wasn’t a huge commitment.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

Avi pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!”

I kicked his shin. “Hey, dude. I didn’t say yes!”

“I think you will, though.” And then he smiled, and I would have said yes to anything he asked. Need a kidney? Sure, I have two. Take a lung while you’re at it. Avi smiled with his whole body. His teeth were straight and white, with the tiniest gap between the front two. There were deep crinkles around his eyes—this was a man who smiled regularly. And oh, the dimples in his cheeks were worthy of bad poetry. He tapped his fingertips together and rocked back on his heels, like he was ready to spring up at a moment’s notice.

I covered my eyes. “Can you get outta here with that smile? I have some thinking to do.”

He laughed, and then I heard his footsteps retreat as he wandered away.

I stared at Frannie working behind me in the mirror. She was focused on cutting her client’s hair, so I shifted my attention to Rachel, who was sweeping up the hair around her station.

“Pssst!”

She looked up and smiled when she saw me, then walked over and perched on the stool next to my chair.

“Laurel! Honey, I didn’t realize that was you. How’d you wind up in Avi’s chair?”

I held my hands up. “How does anyone wind up in Avi’s chair? I think he might be a tornado who sweeps up everyone in his path.”

She laughed. “He does have a strong personality. But his clients adore him, and he does amazing hair.”

Rachel was the hair queen, so if she thought Avi was talented, that was high praise.

I pointed at the stacks of neatly folded foils on my head. “I hope he does amazing hair. Tomorrow’s my first day at my new job and I’d rather not show up looking like a zebra.”

Rachel waved me off. “Oh please. You’re going to be working with a bunch of computer dudes. They barely look up from their monitors, so I doubt they’d notice your hair—not that you’re going to look like a zebra.”

I reached out and patted her bowling ball belly. “How are you, little mama? I haven’t seen nearly enough of you now that you’re growing an entire human!”

She smiled down at her belly and smoothed her hands over it. “I know. I miss you! Hopefully once this little guy strikes out on his own, I’ll be able to come have a crazy night in Baltimore with you and Frannie. Right now, I’d be kind of a drag, since you know, getting smashed while pregnant is frowned upon.”

I clapped my hands. “Little guy? You’re having a Joe Jr.?”

She laughed. “Yeah, we’re having a boy! Not a Joe Jr., but I’m up for name suggestions. We’re at a loss.”

“Hmmm. I’ll have to put some thought and research into it. Only the best name for our sweet baby boy!”

Rachel and I talked for a while about baby things until her next client came in. Babies were so far off my radar personally, but I was a kick-ass aunt to all my nieces and nephews in New Jersey. Still, I found it hard to believe someone in my friend group was starting a family. Rachel and her husband, Joe, were amazing together, and they deserved a million little redheaded babies if that’s what they wanted, but something about it made me sad. It was as if life was moving on without me while I was stuck under a pile of gorgeous suits and cardboard boxes, trying to dig my way out and get my life together.

I looked in the mirror and sighed. Tomorrow started the new me. Hopefully new me would have some beautiful highlights.

Avi came up behind me and peered in a few foils before declaring it was time to rinse my hair. He led me to the sink where he slid out each foil, then washed and conditioned my hair. He did this all wordlessly, which I didn’t mind. I was concentrating on the best shampoo of my life. He dug his fingers into my scalp with just the right pressure, melting the bones right out of my body. I turned into a pile of goo in human clothing right there in the back of the salon.

Avi helped me sit up, holding a towel around my head, and walked me back to his station. I watched him in the mirror as he squeezed the excess water out of my hair and then carefully combed it.

He met my eyes in the mirror. “You will let me cut your hair, yes?”

I nodded. “Yes. Five or six inches is fine. I think I trust you.”

He smiled as he sectioned my hair. “You should. I know my shit.”

I grinned back at him and settled into my chair. So far, my hair didn’t seem to resemble a zebra, so I did trust Avi...with my hair.

He rolled the stool Rachel was on earlier behind me and sat down, then started my haircut.

He grunted. “Sit up.”

I scooted back in the chair. “I am!”

He tsked. “You are very small.”

“No kidding.”

“I have to hunch to cut your hair.”

“Frannie never complains when she cuts my hair.”

He scoffed. “Maybe not out loud.”

“Well, I’m sorry for being short. I’ll work on it.”

He laughed softly. “Never apologize for being who you are. Especially not to overly opinionated men.”

“Noted.” The corners of his mouth stayed turned up as he worked on my hair, cutting section by section, ridding me of a lot of dead weight.

This man was so different from anyone I’d ever met. Could I live with someone like him? I wasn’t sure. Except for family, I’d never lived with a man, roommate or otherwise. And since Frannie had moved out of our shared apartment almost a year ago, I’d been living on my own and kind of loving it.

The house had turned out to be a huge project. I’d bought it on a whim, which sounded crazy since it was a house, but that’s what happened. I’d lived well below my means for years and made a shitload of money at my old firm, and the house had been a steal. So I bought it.

And then I realized I’d gotten myself in over my head.

But did I want a man living with me—a man who would probably do whatever he wanted to “fix” the house and not listen to a word I said? That sounded like everything I didn’t want.

And yet, I found myself still considering it.

“All right. I’ll blow dry you now. You like curls in your hair?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Are you actually asking me what I want?”

He tipped his chin down and winked. Winked! “Just this once.”

“Well, in that case, why don’t you just do what you think will look good on me.”

Avi nodded and turned on the blow dryer. With a round brush, he brought body to my baby-fine locks and swooped my new long bangs across my forehead.

I was in love...with my new hair.

As it dried, I saw that not only had he blended in my pale blonde highlights, he’d added a darker shade—more of a honey. My ends stopped just below my collarbone, and my hair actually looked healthy and bouncy. I hoped Frannie wouldn’t be offended when I went to Avi for my hair from now on. The man was an artist.

When he set down the blow dryer, I tentatively touched my hair. “I absolutely love it, Avi.” I looked up at him. “Truly, my hair looks the best it ever has. Thank you so much.”

He nodded. “Of course. It makes me happy to see you pleased with yourself.”

“I’m very pleased.”

He smiled and held his hand out. I slipped my hand in his, and he pulled me up so I was standing close to him.

“I shouldn’t have been so pushy earlier and I’m sorry. When I get an idea, it is hard for me to back down from it. I can become…um, excited. I would very much like to be your roommate if you will have me, but I will understand if you say no.”

I looked up at him, surprised. He gave me a small smile that reached his eyes. Until that moment, I hadn’t noticed how thick his eyelashes were, or that his eyes were a deep chocolate brown instead of the black I’d assumed. And there was warmth there, a kindness. He may have been rough, but I also thought he was good.

“Thank you. I can be like that too—a dog with a bone—so I get it. Honestly, I haven’t made up my mind. Can I text you in the next couple days?”

He nodded and pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket. “Yes, please.”

I gave him my number, and he sent me a text so I’d have his. Then he walked me to the front desk and actually let me pay for my hair—something my girlfriends never did.

Frannie came into the reception area as Avi took his next client back to his chair.

“Girl.”

I laughed and fluffed my hair. “I know. I look so hot, I need someone to take me out on the town!”

She linked her arm with mine. “You interested in a little female companionship?”

“Totally. I love the ladies!”

“Wanna go with me to Bar Royal? James is working today.”

“Sounds good. Meet you there?”

“Yep, I’ll be there in a bit!”

I said bye to everyone and headed out, but not before I sneaked one last glance at Avi and shook my head. He was too much: too handsome, too damn tall, and way too charming.

And convincing. He was too convincing. Much too much.

I needed a cold beer and some Frannie time. She’d know exactly what to do.