"Allow me to help you with your hair."
Wren ignored the pleading look on Rowan's face as he plucked the comb from his hand then steered him toward the bench. His palms pressed on Rowan's hips through the fabric of the jacket when he turned Rowan's body and straddled the bench behind him.
Rowan was surprised by the way Wren gently worked on his tangles, patiently easing the comb through his hair without a single snag. His fingers brushed here and there against the back of Rowan's neck, turning his skin to gooseflesh.
Not ready to admit defeat quite yet, Rowan glanced coyly over his shoulder as he scooted closer to Wren on the bench.
"You've been so worried about overexerting me…tell me, how does my energy look to you now?"
