Page 112 of Knot My Band: Part Two
Her brows knit together, confusion mingling with the faintest trace of interest. It’s like watching someone peek out from behind the curtains.
“Join us,” I urge, trying to channel every bit of sunshine I can muster. “You can work on the tour with Riley, earn your own money, and be independent. Or, you can travel with us and not work. It’s completely up to you.” I sweep my arm out, encompassing the tour. “And we will keep you safe. I’ll put a whole security team on you while you’re here.”
“Security?” Her voice is a fragile leaf caught in a breeze, and I can practically see the questions swirling in her cautious gaze.
“Top-notch, all muscle and loyalty. They’ll be your personal knights in shining… well, whatever they wear these days.” I giveher a wink, trying to keep the mood buoyant despite the gravity of what I’m offering.
The corners of her mouth twitch, and I glimpse the girl she might be without the bruises and the wariness.
“Really?” she whispers, and there’s a spark in her eyes now, a tiny flame that I’m determined to fan into a full-blown inferno of confidence and healing.
“Absolutely.” My grin’s all promise and no pretense. “Consider it an all-access pass to finding your feet again. On your terms, Brittney. No pressure, just… possibilities.”
I hold her gaze, steady and sure, and I see it—the decision teetering on the edge of her next breath. “You think about it.”
“I will,” she promises.
“You remember Riley, right?” I ask, nudging Riley forward with a tilt of my head. She’s been a silent pillar all this time, and now it’s her turn to shine. Her pixie-cut hair glinting under the streetlights and those trust-me blue eyes make her the poster child for reliability. “She set you up with a hotel room here with a nest. It’s safe, snug, and just a stone’s throw away from where we’re staying.” I watch as Riley’s smile blooms. “Isn’t that right?”
“Absolutely,” Riley chimes in, her voice a melody of comfort. “It’s all yours if you want it. No strings attached, no expectations. Just a place to lay your head and maybe… I dunno, join us for some late-night ice cream therapy?” Her grin grows playfully mischievous, and even I feel the warmth of her invitation.
“Thank you,” Brittney murmurs, the words barely above a whisper but heavy with meaning. A careful, grateful curve tugs at the corner of her lips—an almost smile that feels like a victory.
“Anytime,” I respond, feeling the buzz of connection.
“Thank you.” She looks tired, and I think it’s time to get her settled.
Extending my hand, I flash Brittney my most reassuring smile. “C’mon, let’s get you settled in,” I say, the offer hangingbetween us like a lifeline. “We have another friend, Cate, who is here visiting and wants to meet you too.”
Her fingers, slender and uncertain, slip into mine. I feel her tentative grip, a silent pledge, and something warm unfurls inside me.
“Thank you,” she murmurs again, her voice barely louder than the rustle of leaves in a gentle breeze. The hope twinkling in her bruised eyes hits me right in the feels. She’s been through hell, but here she stands, ready to rise from the ashes. And I’ll be damned if I don’t play my part in her phoenix song.
“Hey, no need for thanks,” I reply with a wink. “We omegas gotta have each other’s backs, right?”
“Right,” she echoes, a spark igniting in her gaze as our connection solidifies.
With her by my side, we stride toward the hotel, our footsteps in harmony. Riley falls into step next to us, her presence a constant comfort, and I can practically hear the gears turning in her head, already plotting out our new arrival’s care schedule. The alphas encircle us, their stances relaxed yet vigilant, exuding a silent strength that ripples through the air.
“Welcome to the tour life,” I tell Brittney, bumping her shoulder playfully. “It’s chaotic, loud, and absolutely the best kind of madness.”
“Sounds… exciting,” she says, the corner of her mouth lifting in the shadow of a grin.
“Exciting doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Riley chimes in, her blue eyes dancing with mischief. “Just wait until you see Oli on stage. She sets the world on fire.”
“Oh please,” I scoff. “I just do my thing and hope nobody throws tomatoes.”
“Tomatoes are so last century,” Brittney teases back, and my heart does a little victory dance at the sound of her laughter.
As we reach the hotel room, I feel the burden of responsibility settle on my shoulders—an oddly comforting heaviness. Brittney’s trust in us, in this newfound family, fills the space around us, knitting us closer together. Her steps grow more confident, her chin lifted a fraction higher as the sensation of belonging wraps around her like a melody.
Oli
PACK EM UP GOSSIP COLUMN
OLI HART’S NEW WARDROBE SHOWS OFF BOND MARKS IN PARIS
July 11th
