TARA

The feeling of Aidan’s hands on my head as he braided my hair was therapeutic, coercing the stress of the day from my body like magic. I melted into him on the bed, groaning whenever his fingers touched my scalp at how good it felt. Who knew that getting braids could feel like a massage?

“I thought you’d be terrible at this,” I said to Aidan, one braid in as he combed out the other half of my hair. The room had been silent since he began otherwise. “You seem to ...