Page 96 of Knot My Band: Part One
On the contrary, she’s covered in our scents, and I’m obsessed with the mix, but I thought she might feel more comfortable this way.
She chuckles, the sound slightly nervous but genuine. “That sounds nice.”
My sunshine undresses, and I can see all the marks left on her body from her heat. Chase’s mating mark stands out on her neck.
Oli slips behind the frosted glass door, the silhouette of her figure casting a soft shadow. The hiss of the water fills the room, and steam begins to waft around us. I undress and grab a bottle of shampoo.
“Mind if I?” I hold up the shampoo, gesturing towards the door.
“Go ahead,” she responds, her laughter mingling with the sound of the cascading water.
I slide the door open, stepping into the steamy cocoon. She faces away from me, the droplets tracing paths down her skin, and there’s something undeniably intimate about this act. I pour shampoo onto my palm, working up a lather before gently massaging it into her hair, careful not to get any in her eyes.
“Your hands are magic,” Oli murmurs, her head tilting back into my touch, encouraging more pressure.
“Only for you,” I reply, my fingers deftly moving through the strands, ensuring every inch is cared for.
I rinse her hair with care, watching as the suds swirl down the drain.
When I’m done, I wrap her in a fluffy towel, the warmth engulfing her.
Emerging from the steam-filled shower, I guide Oli through the narrow hallway to the bedroom at the back of the plane. The soft hum of the engines is a soothing backdrop as I settle her onto an oversized chair and wrap another plush towel around her shoulders.
“Here,” I say, retrieving a hairbrush from the vanity. “You shouldn’t have to rush off after everything. You deserve to be pampered.” I can feel the tension in her muscles as I start brushing her rose gold waves, but slowly, stroke by stroke, it ebbs away.
“Feels nice,” she admits, a small smile playing on her lips as she leans back into my touch.
“Good.” I keep my tone light, but the weight of what’s transpired hangs between us, and I know it’s time to address it. “Oli, would you want to talk about what happened? I can be a good listener.”
She hesitates, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the towel. “It’s a lot, Aiden.”
“I know.”
“Everything’s just so fucked up,” she blurts, tears brimming and spilling over like a dam breaking. “Dax—he can’t even look at me without clenching his jaw, and I feel it, Aiden. Every damn time.” Her voice cracks.
“Oli,” I begin, my chest tightening around the ache to fix this for her, but she barrels on, unstoppable.
“And Chase—” She shakes her head, a laugh that’s more sob than humor escapes her. “I don’t know what to feel. There’s this bond, and it’s new, and it’s terrifying, and it’s—”
I pull her closer, an anchor in the eye of her storm. “Take a breath.”
My arms wrap around her, the heat from her body seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt. I let out a soft purr, trying to soothe her.
She nods and breathes deep, filling her lungs and letting some tension go when she exhales.
“We can talk about it,” I murmur against the crown of her head, “until you’ve made sense of it all.”
My hand finds her back, drawing slow circles as my purr vibrates through us both.
“Thank you,” she whispers into my chest.
“Where else would I be?” My lips curve in a smile meant only for her. The weight of her trust settles on me.
I grab a plush throw from the foot of the bed, lift Oli onto my lap, and drape it over us.
The soft fabric is a small comfort in the grand scheme, but it’s something. Oli’s curled up on me, her head on my shoulder, and I can feel the tension knotted in her shoulders.
“Can we just… not talk about Dax?” she mutters, her voice muffled against the cotton of my shirt. She shifts, green eyes flickering up to meet mine. “I want to focus on Chase.”
