Chapter Twenty-One #2
“Everything else sucks at the moment, too,” I said with a dramatic sigh, deciding to keep moving before we went too far down the mommy and daddy issues path.
“It had to happen to my right wrist, didn’t it?
Can’t brush my teeth without it taking seven minutes and making a mess on myself, or open any container, or text without using the voice-to-text option — which I sadly have to admit I find easier than texting when I have two perfectly healthy hands and now might be a serious addiction I’ll never be able to break.
All of it just makes me want to throw my phone across the room, but I can’t even do that properly. ”
That earned me a smirk.
I swallowed, shaking my head. “And don’t even get me started on my hair.” My chest ached anew with that topic change. “I had glam rip everything out after the game. All the pieces, the curls, the whole production. So now it’s just me… which would be fine if I had two functioning wrists.”
His gaze flicked to my cast.
“I’m going to get it braided so I don’t have to mess with it for a few weeks.
But my appointment’s not until—” I sighed.
“Next week, I think?” I leaned back into the couch, exhaling.
“So until then, I’m just getting by. Can’t even pull it into a decent bun without it looking like I fought for my life and lost. It hurts my left arm to do it, too, which the doctor warned me could happen.
He said to rest as much as I can so I don’t injure my left arm from overuse. Easy for you to say, Doc!”
“I could help.”
I blinked. “With… what, moral support?”
“With your hair.”
I stared at him.
Braden just shrugged, like he hadn’t just offered something wildly intimate. “I’m serious.”
I let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re volunteering for.”
“Try me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Braden, this is not like… run your fingers through it and call it a day. This is a whole process.”
“All right,” he said easily. “Then walk me through it.”
I huffed, shaking my head, but there was something in his expression that softened me — steady, patient, like he wasn’t joking, like he wasn’t going anywhere.
Why did that make my heart beat faster?
“It’s already washed,” I said, shifting a little. “The glam squad detangled it and put product in before they left, bless their souls. I just can’t… do anything with it now.”
He nodded, his eyes still sincerely locked on mine. “So what do you need?”
I hesitated, chewing on the inside of my cheek.
“Honestly? Just… a loose braid. Something to keep it from tangling up again.”
“That I can do.”
I arched a brow. “Can you?”
“Used to braid my sister’s hair all the time,” he said. “Not exactly the same, but… I’ve got the basics.”
“Your sister doesn’t have my hair.”
“No,” he agreed easily. “But you can tell me what to do.”
God.
I shouldn’t have found that as attractive as I did. But the fact that he was offering to help me, that he wanted to help, that he wasn’t the least bit intimidated… it warmed me like a hot cup of herbal tea.
And the thought of having this man’s hands on me again was enough to shred any last doubt I was holding onto.
I shifted, turning slightly toward him. “Okay, but you have to listen.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You’ve got to be gentle.”
He smirked. “Interesting. I would have thought you’d like it rough.”
My mouth popped open, and I swatted him with my good arm playfully. “Listen, we can flirt later, but not when you have your hands in my hair. Got it? We’re on business now.”
He wet his lips — the bold motherfucker — his eyes sweeping over me with the tease. “Yes, Boss.”
“You don’t get to use that name.”
“I do when the roles are reversed like this.”
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up before I change my mind.”
Braden laughed, the sound deep and delicious from his beautiful throat. Then, his eyes settled on me, sincere and loaded. “I’ve got you,” he promised.
And I was so fucked because I believed him.
“Come here.”
He gestured to the space on the floor between his legs, offering a hand to help me maneuver down. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cherish every touch and sweep of my skin against his on the way.
“Do you want one braid or two?”
“Two, I think. And I mean it,” I said, plucking the extra hair band off my wrist and handing it to him. “Gentle. If you hit a knot, don’t just yank it — you have to hold the section and work it out from the bottom up. And keep tension, but not too tight.”
There was that throaty laugh again. I felt it all the way through my toes.
“I hear you,” he assured me, and the moment his hands touched me, I had to fight back a moan. He massaged my shoulders and neck first, trying to help me relax before one hand gently moved to the bun my hair was currently tied in.
“May I?”
I nodded, adjusting a throw pillow under my right arm for more support as I settled in.
True to his word, Braden was careful as he maneuvered my hair out of the band. He untied it slowly, ensuring my hair didn’t get snagged or tangled. When it was loose, I felt my heart pick up a bit, the speed and intensity making my next breath feel shallower than the last.
This was more intimate than him having his face between my thighs. That I could handle no problem. But this…
“Would it be okay if I ran my fingers through your hair?” he asked, his voice low and calm. “To loosen the strands and give your scalp a break?”
Fuck.
This man was going to make me come talking like that.
I nodded, and then that moan I’d been fighting off broke free, because his fingers slid against my scalp, firm and confident, massaging in gentle strokes as he helped my hair relax.
“God, that feels so good.”
He stilled — only for the briefest pause, but it was enough for me to notice — before he continued his soft touch.
“Keep talking like that and I’m going to need a moment,” he teased.
“Keep touching me like this and we might have one together.”
That made him laugh, and I relaxed a little, closing my eyes and reveling in the feel of his hands in my hair, his fingers on my scalp, his thighs bracketing me in like a little safe haven in a world that felt so unstable at the moment.
“So, you used to do this for your sister?” I asked.
“Still do. When I’m home, anyway. But yeah, after her diagnosis, Mom and Dad were talking through the options and Dad brought up cutting her hair into a short bob.
” Braden paused. “I knew it would break Ginny’s heart if they did.
She loved her hair, always said she wanted to grow it as long as Rapunzel’s.
So I begged Dad to let it grow, and promised I’d braid it and help take care of it. ”
My left hand floated to the pressure over my throat. “That’s really sweet, Braden.”
“She has these big, beautiful curls, too. Took me and Mom forever to figure out the right products for her curl pattern. But once we did… you should see the way Ginny lights up when we do a fresh wash and style it. She loves when it’s down.
And we usually leave it that way for a day or two before I braid it. Or, well, Mom braids it now, mostly.”
I smiled, and then let out a sated sigh as Braden started to section my hair. “What’s she like? Ginny.”
“Oh, she’s the best,” Braden said, and I could hear the smile in his voice even though I couldn’t see it. “Always has been. She’s funny. Funnier than you, even, if you can believe it.”
I gasped. “Never.”
“It’s true. She’s quick with it. Dry. She’ll roast you without even looking up from what she’s doing.”
“It appears I have a worthy opponent,” I teased.
“Oh yeah. I used to think I was the funny one in the family until she got older and started keeping up with me. Now she wins most of the time.”
“That part I don’t find unsurprising. You’re not funny in the slightest.”
His fingers worked carefully through another section of my hair, and again, I could feel his smile above me even without seeing it.
“She’s big into strategy, too,” he continued.
“Loves anything she can solve or outthink. Video games, board games, puzzles. She got obsessed with Baldur’s Gate a while back and I’m pretty sure she’s better than the people who created it. ”
“Mm. A nerd just like you.”
“Maybe even bigger,” he said, warmth threading every word. “She plays with one hand most of the time — got insanely good with it. Custom setup and everything. And she still talks shit while she’s doing it.”
“We love a multitasking queen.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “She uses this speech app on her tablet — so it’s an artificial voice, not hers, but… it feels like hers now, you know? And she’s just as quick with it. Sometimes faster, honestly. She’ll already have something typed out before you even realize she’s about to drag you.”
I laughed again as Braden’s hands slowed, savoring the feel of him braiding each plait of hair into place.
“AFM took a lot, though,” he added. “I don’t want to act like it didn’t. Fatigue hits her hard, and when it does, it’s like everything just… shuts down on her. So she’s usually in her chair or bed, and if we do venture out, we plan things really carefully.”
My chest tightened. “It had to be a big change for you and your family.”
“It was. Most of all for her, but… we adapted. They told us she wouldn’t live even half as long as she already has, so Ginny is continuing to prove her stubbornness. She’s strong.”
His fingers brushed the back of my neck as he gathered my hair there, grounding me.