Page 160 of Knot Their Omega

I’m surprised by his easygoing nature today.

“You’re not saying that so we can fuck, right?”

“No,” he admits and leans in close. “I don’t want you remaining quiet about it.”

“Why?” I’m curious. “It won’t make a difference. In fact, it’ll probably make things complicated when people lose their shit over it.”

“I don’t care if people make a big deal over it,” Icarus acknowledges first. “We shouldn’t let the world’s opinions push us away from being who we truly are. At the end of the day, what’s the fucking point?”

I realize this is something deeper than he’d like to admit, which is why I move my arms back enough so I can cup his cheeks. The heightened gaze of emotion makes me feel like I’m his world. That my success, happiness, and contentment encourage his orbit around my atlas.

“So many sacrifices and where did it get me?” he quietly confesses. “Years wanting the best for someone when their best interest wasn’t even on me. Didn’t care about the sacrifices I was making. My time. My commitment. My strive was driven by the hope of watching another succeed and celebrating together. All that secrecy in hopes success would be inevitable, and look at the end.” He smiles and shakes his head as if he is still trying to convince himself otherwise.

“All those sacrifices and time that I could have invested in my goals… my hobbies gone in the wind,” he concludes. “Aside from my pack, James, and Rex, who would know? In fact, who will care? Even if the world finds out the truth, it’ll be a trend for only a few days. In the end, as long as you are happy and free, that’s what matters.”

“You’re right,” I agree with him, his words resonating with me in so many ways. “I want to write the band a song.”

“Do you?” he hums in approval. “What’s the catch?”

I smirk in amusement, loving how playful his expression is.

“A little birdy told me you can sing.”

He arches his eyebrow my way, but I smile while my hands move from his cheeks to run through his hair.

“I could be a horrible singer.”

“I have a strong hunch you’re probably really good because when the bands have been doing auditions with chosen candidates from their elite list of potential singers, you rejected all of them.”

“They’re all tone deaf.”

“You’re a perfectionist— EEP!” I squeal when he has me away from the glass wall and drenched in the stream of warm water. It’s only for a few seconds, but when he spins us around, so the stream of water is beating against his back, we’re both completely drenched. “Perfectionist,” I ensure to finish the word. “And if you think that’s getting me to hop on your lollipop, you’re losing points.”

“Liar,” he huffs but genuinely smiles. “If you can get Kai on board, I’ll do it.”

“Kai?” I think about it. “On board with singing?”

“Guitar,” he reveals. “He’s a really good guitarist.” He lowers me, then helps me out of my wet sports bra.

Every man should know just how agonizingly hard it is for a woman to get out of her sports gear when it’s wet.

“You know… I liked singing when he played. There’s just something different about it. Those who talk less and listen more perceive the world in such a different perspective.” I watch as he lowers to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine while he descends.

“When he plays the guitar, I’m able to zone out the world and just focus on the raging music around me. Can enjoy the rapid rhythm of Kenji drumming away. I could appreciate the tender softness in Nathaníel’s voice way back then. I never admitted it to them… but I guess they were my solace. They made the busy world go quiet, and I could let go and sing without fear.”

He wraps his arms around my legs, pulling me close as he presses his body against me. I don’t feel odd or embarrassed at our position. It’saninteresting sensation to experience.

This fond sense of connection in this moment of vulnerability. It seems as though our relationship thrives on these intimate conversations in the midst of our heightened sexuality.

I like it.

A different form of communication I never knew I enjoyed and craved.

A form of solace I realize can help heal so many wounds.

My hands rack through his hair, comforting him as we stand there, dripping from the water that still beats onto the shower floor inches away.

“Would you want to be on that stage again?” I quietly whisper as I caress his scalp. “To face the rows of fans, screaming in excitement for the unknown you guys are going to bring.”

---