Page 27 of Knot My Band: Part Two
“Hey,” he says, voice thick with an emotion I can’t peg down. Not from Dax Grey, Mister Scowl-and-Growl himself. But here he is, standing before me with something that looks suspiciously like a present.
“What’s this?” I ask.
He shuffles closer, the distance between us shrinking until I can smell cinnamon and icing. Did he not cover up his scent?
My heart beats quickly, and I blame it on the surprise, not the sweet scent of alpha filling my senses.
He clears his throat, a sound that seems to scrape its way out of his depths.
“Oli,” Dax starts, and there’s this gravel in his voice like he’s dredging up words from somewhere deep and unused. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been… difficult. And I’ve messed up—badly.” His gaze is fixed on mine, hazel eyes strangely bright, as if the tumultuous storm brewing within him lights them. “I want to make things right. Even if you decide you never want me around again, I need you to know that.”
I’m unprepared for the raw honesty that laces every word, the vulnerability that vibrates through the air between us. My instinct is to throw an arm around him or crack a joke to break this tension, but something about how he stands there so earnestly stops me. So, instead, I listen, really listen.
“Thanks, Dax,” I manage to say, my voice soft. “That means a lot.”
Dax extends his hand, a tiny package nestled between his fingers like it’s precious, fragile. It’s wrapped in paper the color of midnight, like some of the decorations in my nest. I notice the slight tremor in his hands. Something about that vulnerability, the careful way he’s holding this gift, makes my pulse race.
“Here,” he says, voice a low rumble that somehow echoes in the tight space between us.
Our fingers brush as I take it from him, and oh, there’s that spark, that sizzle that zips up my arm and straight to my heart.
I’m acutely aware of the heat of his skin, the roughness of his calluses against my smoother fingertips.
“Thanks, Dax,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady.
My fingers dance over the midnight paper, tugging at the silver ribbon that binds it. There’s a thrill inside me as I peel back the layers. The air between us thickens with each soft crinkle of paper. My heart hums.
Underneath the last of the wrapping, there’s a box. I open that to find a bracelet, delicate and silver, winking up at me from my palm. It’s softer and more intricate than anything I’d expect from Dax’s rugged exterior. My fingertips graze the cool metal, sliding along until they bump against the charm.
It’s a bass guitar made of some light pink colored stone that’s been filed down and smoothed to perfection.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, holding it out for him to clasp it around my wrist.
He clears his throat and reads from a piece of paper. “It’s, uh… made of rose quartz. Apparently, it’s supposed to help with love, compassion, and new beginnings. It helps heal emotional trauma and be open to new experiences, which seemed fitting, so I got one too.”
He pulls a leather chain up from under his shirt and reveals a small piece of rose quartz attached to the end.
I’m stunned and speechless. Dax put a lot of thought and energy into this gift instead of just picking something pretty.
Tears blur the edges of my vision, unbidden and unexpected, as the meaning behind the charm settles into my soul like a song written just for me. My gaze drifts upwards, locking with Dax’s intense hazel eyes. His usual shield of grumpiness is nowhere to be found; in its place is something raw, something real.
“Didn’t think you’d go all soft on me, Grey,” I tease, but my voice wobbles, betraying the storm of emotions his gift has stirred up. Surprise mixes with a warmth that feels like gratitude and is written all over my face.
“Soft? Nah,” Dax replies, a flicker of his trademark defiance dancing in his eyes. But the hard lines of his jaw ease as hewatches me, a hint of vulnerability peeking through. “Just trying to… you know, make things right.”
“Make things right?” I echo, still holding the bracelet like a precious secret. “Well, you’re on one hell of a good start. This—” I lift the guitar charm slightly, letting it catch the light. “—it’s perfect, Dax. Like, really perfect. Thank you.”
He clears his throat, looking anywhere but at me for a split second before his eyes lock back onto mine. “I mean it, Oli. Whatever it takes, I’m gonna make amends.”
And I believe him. He knows he messed up and is determined to make it up to me.
This was an incredible start.
Noise proceeds Jack, Chase, and Aiden as they return to the bus and settle around us.
“How did it go?” Dax asks them, smoothly leaving behind our emotional moment.
Chase rolls his eyes. “They have a million questions about the police, Trevor, and canceling our meet and greets, which we couldn’t answer, so not great. They’re going to go nuts when they see Trevor and May getting arrested next.”
