15
HALEY
I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. It was one of life’s simple pleasures to have someone else wash my hair. As a stylist, I washed dozens of people’s hair every week, but getting the same treatment wasn’t something I indulged in often.
But Chelsea insisted. She’d been after me for months to let her cut my hair, and I finally agreed. Only because she said she’d let me cut her hair, too.
“Water okay?” Chelsea asked as she soaked my hair.
“Perfect,” I told her, sinking into the relaxation of the moment.
Chelsea was quiet as she washed my hair, using her nails to scrub my scalp and work up the suds to a comfortable clean. She rinsed my hair, then smoothed conditioner over my hair. After another rinse, she wrapped my hair in a towel and sat me up.
“You sure you trust
