Ti knew he was pushing it when he used Reece's name again, watching that familiar tension slide into his shoulders as they closed up the shop. But something about tonight had him feeling bold - maybe the way Reece had been watching him all evening while he worked, or how their fingers had brushed when passing tools back and forth.
"Said don't call me that," Reece's voice was low, dangerous. But he didn't move away when Ti stepped closer.
"My bad, little daddy," Ti corrected himself, noting how Reece's breath caught slightly at the name. "You been quiet tonight."
"Been thinking." Reece leaned against the counter, that ever-present smoke smell clinging to him. His eyes were slightly red, but sharp as ever when they met Ti's.
"About?"
"Z's mama's birthday coming up," Reece said quietly, something vulnerable flickering across his face before the mask slipped back on. "He been asking questions."
Ti kept his distance, knowing better than to push when Reece got like this. "What kind of questions?"
"About her. About..." Reece's jaw tightened. "About you."
The word hung between them, loaded with everything they hadn't said. Ti waited, letting Reece find his words.
"Boy's getting attached," Reece finally continued, eyes fixed somewhere past Ti's shoulder. "To them braids. To you being around."
"That a problem?" Ti kept his voice neutral, heart beating faster.
"Could be." Reece's fingers drummed against the counter, betraying his tension. "If you ain't planning to stick around."
"Who says I ain't?"
Reece's eyes snapped to his, dark and intense. "Lot of people don't."
The weight of what he wasn't saying filled the shop. Ti took a careful step closer, noting how Reece's shoulders tightened but he didn't move away.
"I ain't them," Ti said softly.
"Better not be," Reece warned, but something in his expression had softened just slightly. "Z needs his braids done before school Monday."
The subject change was abrupt but Ti went with it, understanding what Reece wasn't ready to say. "Bring him by Sunday?"
"After church." Reece pushed off the counter, mask fully back in place. But at the door he paused, that vulnerability flickering through again. "You still coming to that breakfast thing?"
"Said I would, didn't I?"
"Just checking." Reece's hand lingered on the door handle. "Z would be..." he hesitated. "Would be disappointed if you didn't show."
"Just Z?" Ti couldn't help asking.
Reece's eyes met his, something fierce and protective and tender all at once. "Don't push it."
But later that night, after Ti had locked up and made it home, his phone lit up:
"Z says thanks for tomorrow"
Then: "Me too"
Ti smiled at his screen, heart full with everything those simple words meant coming from Reece. "I Always got y'all," he typed back.
The response was immediate: "Better"
And Ti knew - they weren't rushing into anything, weren't putting labels on whatever was growing between them. But something was definitely building, slow and steady and real. For now, that was enough.
YOU ARE READING
Faded lines
General FictionA gritty urban romance tracking a barber's unexpected connection with a tough single dad, revealing vulnerability through haircuts, family, and unspoken desires.
