The Haircut

"Let me make sure I understand you. You want me to cut your hair?" Trisha demanded as she stared at their clasped hands. 

"That's right," Logan repeated. He glanced behind her at the door. "Was I interrupting something?"

"No," Trisha was quick to reply. "You weren't interrupting anything. But I don't understand. Logan, isn't your hair one of your trademarks? What makes you such a distinctive model?"

"You mean besides my abs?" He teased. His smile turned somber. "I've given i a lot of thought. We've been on two different dates now that this monstrosity has stopped us from being together. I've told you, I really like you. I'm not lying. You're not like any of the other women I've ever dated. You're real."

"As  opposed to being a toy?" Trisha teased.

"I'm being serious here. I want to spend more time with you, and if cutting my hair allows me to do that then that's what I'll do."

"But why me?" Trisha shook her head at him. "I don't kn