31. Caitlin
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
caitlin
Over the past few days since Jake and I got together, I’d been sneaking over to his house after Whitley had gone to sleep and vice versa.
We’d stolen kisses between me picking up shifts at the bar and picking up Whitley from school, too.
It was possible we were in some kind of dreamlike, sex-induced haze and the thrill would wear off, but until that happened, I was content with spending the time we had together, even if it was in secret.
Last night, he insisted on trying the new vibrator I’d bought. If I’d known the torture he’d put me through, I never would have agreed. He’d brought me nearly to the edge of my orgasm three times before pulling back and working me up again.
I pressed my thighs together thinking about it, heat pooling in my core at the vision of his body hovering over mine before—
“Mommy, what are you doing?” Whitley tugged on my pant leg, forcing me out of my daydream.
“Nothing, Mommy’s just thinking.”
“About what?” She put her hands on her hips, popping one like the little diva she was.
I tried to come up with something quick that wasn’t, Fucking my neighbor and your uncle’s best friend.
“I was just thinking about how I need a haircut.”
Whitley’s eyes widened. “Can I get a haircut?”
Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I nodded. “Sure. Just a trim or something else?”
“Short.” She bobbed her head, letting the mess of curls fall into her face.
Tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and I almost told her no, but I bit back the word, instead saying, “I think that will look cute on you.”
“Can we go now?”
I wasn’t planning on going today, hoping the excuse was enough to feed her curiosity of what I was thinking, but I’d told her she could get a haircut and the only way I was going to dig my way out of the hole I’d put myself in was following through.
“Sure, bug. Let’s go get dressed then we can head out, yeah?”
“Yeah!” she squealed, skipping to her bedroom. She picked out a light-pink top and white shorts with frills on them after a little bit of guidance.
I pulled her hair back into little pigtails for the drive into town, and then we were on the road.
“Mommy, can you put tunes on?” she asked, kicking her feet in the backseat.
“Sure, what do you want to listen to?”
“‘Mr. Brightside.’”
“‘Mr. Brightside?’” That was the kind of music Jake listened to. “Why do you want to listen to that?”
“Auntie E told me that’s the kind of music Jake likes to listen to and that he’s your special friend.”
I groaned, mentally cursing Ellison and her meddling.
“Oh, yeah, maybe he does like this music.” I didn’t even address the special friend comment.
The last thing I needed was her repeating that around anyone else.
Quickly scrolling through my music app, I found the song and turned it on.
One song wouldn’t hurt, and I could change it to something more age appropriate after.
When the music began, she immediately started throwing her head back and forward, like a tiny headbanger.
It wasn’t until she attempted to start singing—or rather, screaming—the lyrics that I lost it.
“Wow, bug.” I giggled. “Maybe being a popstar is in your future.”
She shook her head. “No, Mommy. I want to be a cowgirl.”
A smile pulled at my cheeks. Montana was treating her so well. She was thriving here, and honestly, I was starting to think I was, too.
Finding parking wasn’t too difficult, despite it being lunch hour. I held Whitley’s hand as we walked down the sidewalk toward the salon my mom recommended.
Bells chimed when we stepped inside. The space was warm and welcoming, with bright lights and light hardwood floors. The salon had four styling stations on one side, each with a chair in front of a floor-length mirror, and a few shampoo sinks on the other.
“Good afternoon, ladies! How can I help you today?” A woman with thick rimmed glasses and hair pulled up into a stylish bun greeted us at the front counter.
“We’re going to do a kid’s cut for her, and I’m also going to get a haircut,” I replied.
“Amazing. It’ll be a five or ten minute wait, is that okay?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“All righty, then. Feel free to look through the magazines for styles and have a seat.” She gestured to the small waiting area.
“How short are you wanting to cut your hair?” I asked Whitley while flipping through a style book.
She gestured to the area just below her chin.
My brows shot up. “You want it that short?”
She nodded vigorously with a giant smile.
“All right, then.” My stomach dropped at the thought of her hair being short after so many years of not cutting it. I’d trimmed the little dead ends off before, but this would be her first real haircut.
“What are you going to do, Mommy? Are you going to cut it short like me?” Whitley looked up at me with big doe eyes, full of innocence.
“Oh, I’m not sure.” I laughed while twirling the ring on my thumb.
“I think you would look bootiful with short hair, Mommy.”
My nose and eyes started to burn, and I wiped the corner of my eye with my thumb while sniffling. “Thanks, bug. I’ll think about it.”
“Whitley and Caitlin, I’m ready for you.” Our stylist came up front to grab us. “I’m Emily. How are you two today?”
“Good!” Whitley shouted.
Emily giggled. “That’s good! Have you ever had your hair cut before?”
I shook my head. “I’ve trimmed her dead ends before, but she’s never been into a salon.”
“Well, that’s so exciting! I’ll have you sit right here.” She patted the salon chair, and Whitley hopped up. “Do you know what you want to do?”
Whitley repeated what she showed me, gesturing just below her chin.
“Wow, so you want to cut it short today! Is that okay with you?” She looked at me.
I nodded, knowing this would be a core memory for Whitley regardless of if I said yes or no. It was up to me to decide if it would be a positive one or not.
“Wonderful. Let’s do yours first, and then we’ll do your mama’s. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah!” Whitley cheered, clapping her hands.
Emily draped a cape over her then got down on her level in front of her. “Do you want your hair to be washed today?”
“Mm-hmm,” Whitley hummed in agreement.
“Can I show you where we’re going to go?” Emily offered her a hand then led her over to the shampoo bowl. I took a seat in the stylist chair next to the one Whitley was in and pulled out my phone, noticing a few text notifications from Jake.
Jake
How are my favorite girls today?
Good. We’re getting haircuts.
Jake
I can’t wait to see what you get.
I hadn’t realized Emily and Whit were done washing her hair until Whitley waved her hand in front of my phone. I probably had a stupid grin plastered in my face, and my cheeks heated.
“Mommy, look.” She pointed to her damp hair.
“Wow, did she wash your hair?”
Whit nodded, then Emily patted the chair again and Whitley climbed up.
“All right, Whitley. Are you ready?”
She nodded.
“Are you ready, Caitlin?”
I drew a large breath then exhaled before nodding.
“Okay, I’m going to cut a little longer than where you originally said, and then we’ll trim it to the perfect length.” Emily walked us—namely me—through what she was going to do, and then she got to work.
With the first snip, a quiet sob left my mouth, but I clamped my hand over it. My little girl was growing up, and I had no way of stopping it.
“Are you doing okay, Mama?” Emily checked.
“I’m doing great.” My vision was a little blurry, but after taking a look at Whitley’s new haircut, pride burst in my chest. My little girl knew what she wanted, and she went for it.
When Whitley’s haircut was done, Emily blow-dried it and put it in a cute half-up style with pigtails.
“Ta-da!” She presented the haircut to Whitley in the mirror. “Do you love it?”
She nodded, and the giant smile on her face made it all worth it.
“You look beautiful, bug.” I kissed her forehead and helped her out of the chair and into the one I was sitting in.
“I’m going to sweep this and then we can get started with yours, okay?”
I nodded, taking a seat and fidgeting with my hands.
Emily put a cape on me, and we made eye contact in the mirror. “All right. What do you think? Are we going with a trim or something more dramatic?”
“I think I want to cut my hair,” I murmured as Adam ran his fingers through the long strands. “It gets in the way this long.”
He wrinkled his nose a bit. “Don’t. It won’t suit you.”
A giant pit formed in my stomach. “What do you…”
Adam let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I’m just saying, Caity, long hair looks better on you. Short hair will draw too much attention to…” He gestured at my body, focusing on the curves of my hips. “I just think your hair is pretty the way it is. You’re tall, too, so it looks better long.”
“Oh, well…” I stumbled over my words, unsure of how to respond to the backhanded compliment whiplash he had just given me. “I guess I could just get a trim again.”
I stared at my reflection in the long mirror, teeth skimming over my bottom lip.
Bucket list item number six: Make a change in appearance that you’ve always wanted.
Fuck it. If Whitley can be brave, then so can I.
“Let’s chop it.”
Emily squealed, bouncing on her toes and clapping her hands. “I was hoping you’d say that! You’re going to look gorgeous with short hair.”
I flashed a toothy grin at her in the mirror. “I think so, too.”
“Ooh, and while we’re at it, what do you think about highlights?”