I’ve basically given up on the idea of pairing off Taylor and Finn once the two month mark rolls around and I still haven’t heard from Finn. Taylor mentions him once and then moves on, she’s never been one for pining. Before long it’s June, and I’ve got my husband, James, in my chair for his summer buzz. When I met him he’d had a cute, sandy-blond quiff, but over the years we’d fallen into a routine of him growing it out over the fall and winter and me reminding him in the spring that it was nearly time for a shearing. There was absolutely no better turn-on than scratching my nails over his freshly clipped hair. He’d figured out pretty early on into our relationship that I had a bit of a bit of a kink when it came to cutting hair. I hadn’t necessarily been shy about it, I’d made my preference towards short hair known when he asked off-handedly once about growing his out vs buzzing it. When my eyes lit up at the prospect of shaving his cute little fringe down to nothing, he’d jumped at the chance. After that he swore he wouldn’t grow it longer ever again. However, James had quietly realized the longer he waited between cuts, the better the sex was afterwards. He was a little tease and I adored him for it. I hated to admit that there was something mesmerizing about watching his locks grow, slowly sprawl over his ears and down to his collar, in the colder months. It made the event of running my clippers right down the middle of his head, with the shortest guard, that much more pleasurable. I always opted to give him a #1 all over for his first summer cut, and then as the season went on I would leave the top a smidge longer and shave the back and sides down to sandpaper. Once in a while I’d completely shave the back and sides, but we called that our ‘special occasion’ look. It always ended with me pleasantly sore the next day…
James and I met when I was in college, and he and Taylor became fast friends (thankfully). Now we do lunch at least once a month so we can all catch up. It was a Saturday so they were both off of work, which made today perfect for the three of us to meet up.
Taylor let herself in just as I was finishing up with James, and she comes over to give us both a kiss on the cheek. “Lookin’ good Jamie!” She rubbed both hands over his head and sighed, “You’re so lucky, Bree.”
“I’m sure you’ll get your own luck soon, Tay. In the meantime, you two ready to grab some grub?”
James stands and gives me a peck on the cheek, then says, “I’m starving, let’s go!”
I tell them I’ll meet them outside, and go to shut my computer off and put up my closed sign. But before I turn off the monitor I notice a new appointment notification, so I check it quickly: one new appointment-men’s haircut, June 10th, 9:30 AM, Finn Thompson
I rush out to tell Taylor, who does a little victory dance.
“Don’t get too excited though,” I say, “Poor guy’s probably just going to ask me to take his length up a few inches at most.”
James gives me a smirk, “Give it time. The two of you are relentless.”
Taylor is the only person besides James who knows what gets me going, and that’s because we drunkenly bonded over sharing the same kink one night, after I’d finished cosmetology school. Taylor had gone to school for management and now works at a small start-up in our hometown. James and I moved one town over after college, so we’re still within easy driving distance of all Taylor and I’s old haunts. And James, coincidentally, grew up in a neighboring town on the other side of the state, so he was still close to home as well.
Anyway, it was nice sharing the same turn-on as my best friend, since it meant being able to have someone to confide in and grovel over guys with. Plus it meant that Taylor never questioned why James was practically bald for four months out of the year, or why for those four months our level of PDA skyrocketed…
The tenth couldn’t roll around fast enough, and that morning Taylor kept texting me making me promise an update on our little pet project. I knew better than to assume Finn was going to waltz in and ask me for a baldy. It was in my experience that guys like Finn were oblivious to the fact that their long luscious locks weren’t as much of a selling point as they assumed. And once they were let on to the fact that maybe succumbing to the wrath of a barber’s chair was actually their best move, they generally panicked. I’d been super lucky that James wasn’t fussed about his hair, and even more lucky that it actually made him a little hard knowing how much I was fussed with his hair. I secretly wanted Finn to be Taylor’s version of James, but there was no way to force something like that, it had to happen on its own. Sure I could prod it along, but it was ultimately Finn who would have to make the final call.
When he walked into the shop he looked like a ball of nerves, and truthfully that made me a bit giddy. His glossy hair was now well past his shoulders, swirling down his back and completely shielding his eyes. Just like always he shoved his hand through his hair and smiled at me, “Hi Bree, how’s it going?”
“Going well, yourself?”
“Same old same old,” Finn sighed, “But I’m off on vacation next week, hoping to recharge a little.”
I walked him over to the sink, “Where are you headed?”
“Couple of college buddies and I are going up to Lake Winnebago, for a reunion of sorts.”
I shampooed his hair and rubbed in some conditioner, marveling at the fact that his hair was still so healthy despite how long it had been since he last cut it. It made me wonder just how soft the velvet of his hair would feel under my fingers if I gave him a nice close buzz….
“Your friend Taylor still single?”
“Uh, yeah, still single.”
“She venture out into the world of dudes with long hair yet? Cast the net a little wider?”
I shook my head no, “Girl knows what she likes, sorry pal.”
His expression went a bit wounded, and he was quiet while I gently squeezed the water from his hair and wrapped it in a towel. When he finally piped up again I almost screeched with joy.
“Honestly, maybe I need to join the short hair club. Maybe that’s my problem…”
“Nah,” I say, tousling his wet hair, “Surely you wouldn’t want to part with all this?”
He shrugs, “I’ve never had short hair, how would I know if I like it if I never try? I mean, it grows back. My hair grows so damn fast. I just… I keep chickening out. But I can’t stop thinking about Taylor, if I’m being honest. I mean, just from what you’ve said about her, and then seeing her in person, she’s… I just, I really want a chance with her.”
“Well any decision you make in my chair has to be a decision for you not for someone else. It’s on your head, you’re the one who has to go home with it. So unless you want to chop it, I’d say pass.”
He raises an eyebrow questioningly, “But you do think I’d be good for Taylor, right? And she’s not still single because she’s a serial killer or anything?”
I snort, “No, she’s just damn selective. She’s been hurt one too many times to be anything other than choosey now. And yes, I do think you’d be a good match. I’ve known Tay a long time now, and you remind me of her a lot. Same life philosophy ‘n what have you.”
“So then, I want to do this,” he says with conviction, “I need to stop balking at change. And if it gets Taylor’s attention, even better.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing, I think he’s dead serious. But I want to test him one last time, so I offer, “Ok, well I can bring the bulk of your length up to your ears, and then clipper the back and blend it a bit. That’s a hefty change, but it will still give you some length to play with.”
He shakes his head, “Uh-uh, you said Taylor is a crewcut kinda girl, right?”
“Finn, I don’t kn-”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” he says firmly, “I can’t wait to see the look on Liam’s face, he’s been begging me to go for it since he did.”
Normally I would take scissors and get rid of the bulk length before taking clippers to a head of long hair, but I know Finn is going to just about die at the sight of his beautiful locks being mowed down to a half inch. Selfishly, I need to see that moment, when he realizes there’s no turning back, when his eyes go wide in the mirror as the swath of stubble emerges where his flowing tresses once stood.
I can’t help but think if this all goes well, Taylor will be going steady with Finn in no time. Then, just maybe, I’ll end up treating Finn to the same ‘summer special’ that James gets… A girl can dream!
I take out my clippers and pop a number four guard on it, “Last chance to tap out.”
When Finn doesn’t move, I stand to his left side and turn the clippers on. He jumps a tiny bit, totally unused to the sound. I stay standing to his side so he can see exactly what I’m doing. I press the blades to his hairline and slowly draw the clippers back. They let out a whine as they chew through his thick hair, but the blades are plenty sharp, and Finn’s long locks begin tumbling down the cape and onto the floor. His eyes are so dilated, and his hand shoots up from under the cape to rub at the plush stubble left behind. His mouth makes a little O and he murmurs, “Fughh that feels good.”
After that I waste no time making pass after pass, and soon all of the hair on is head is reduced to an even layer of half-inch velour. His touch is almost hungry, as he rubs his hands over his head. He can’t stop looking at himself in the mirror. I can’t blame him, he looks freaking hot with a buzzcut, but I want to take him one step farther. I take off the #4 guard on my clippers and swap it for the shortest one. Wordlessly I begin working the back and sides of his hair into a neat fade. I finish off his cut by swiping a little shaving cream on, right at his temples and on the base of his neck, and using my straight razor I make both extra smooth. Taylor will go absolutely bananas.
I stand back and admire my handiwork. His pale skin creates a nice contrast to his dark, shiny, closely cropped hair. He’s almost unrecognizable with this haircut. His blue eyes are so well defined, with his beautifully full lashes. And the hint of stubble on his angular jaw really seals the whole deal. If I wasn’t happily married, I’d be tempted to lay him right there in the chair.
I’m feeling extra devious at this point, so I demand he fork over his phone. He’s not thinking straight, so he obliges. I punch in Taylor’s number. “Ok, now look at me,” I instruct. He does, eyes still dilated, with mounds of chocolate curls surrounding him on the cape. I snap a pic and text it to Taylor. She’s going to fucking lose her mind.
I uncape him, unceremoniously flinging his shorn hair to the floor, and he leans forward to get a closer look.
“Who knew you were a model under all that?” I say coyly.
He blushes, and it’s then that I notice the slight bulge near the fly of his jeans. Looks like Finn may just be one of us after all…