Page 55 of Knot Their Starlet

“I don’t think it’s the safest place, period,” I huff, taking the mist bottle and spraying myself liberally with it.

“You’d be right about that. I’m sorry this has to be your introduction to this world.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through this kinda stuff all the time. It’s like it’s not even phasing you.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s phasing me,” she says, staring off into the distance, her expression profoundly... sad. It breaks my heart.

“You’re doing a fantastic job holding yourself together. I’d probably be... crying or freaking out or something, if I were in your shoes.” I wince, tucking my hands nervously into my back pockets. “Shit, that wasn’t a very manly thing to say.”

“Who gives a shit about what’s manly and not manly?” she says, waving away my apology. “This kind of life... being constantly watched and scrutinized. It’s not normal. It’s okay to have feelings about it.”

“Yeah,” I say, letting out a deep exhale.

“Want a hug? Sometimes⁠—”

Before she even has a chance to finish her sentence, I’m pulling her into my arms. I’m not particularly tall. Around average height, for a guy, maybe. I haven’t met a lot of male omegas to compare.

But compared to Andi? I can still rest my chin on the top of her head.

“Thanks,” I say, my voice tight.

She tentatively wraps her arms around my waist, her fingers splaying across the bare skin of my back.

“Of course. Everyone needs a good hug now and then.”

We stand there, holding each other for a long time. I don’t know whether it’s because the calming effect of being around her stretches time or because we genuinely both needed a long hug, but I’m not complaining either way.

“We should go,” she murmurs. “Wouldn’t want to hold up the shoot anymore.”

“Okay,” I nod, glancing at myself in the mirror and making sure everything looks like it’s in place. When I determine that I’m far more put together than I feel, the two of us step out of the dressing room.

I instantly clock one of the people working on the set who has their phone camera held up, snapping photos or a video of the two of us leaving the dressing room.

Andi just glances back at me, her hair flicking over her shoulder in a wave of expertly done barrel curls. Her smile completely transforms her face.

And she’s smiling at me.

“Don’t worry,” she murmurs.

Her smile is infectious. I know it’d be a terrible thing to say to her, but I truly do wish I had the opportunity to see her smile more.

“Okay,” I say, reaching out and lacing our hands together.

She offers me a subtle squeeze before leading us back to the main set.

The moment Leo catches sight of us, he’s headed in our direction.

“Do you guys want to stop the shoot?” he murmurs, his gaze lingering on Andi.

Oh, well, that’s certainly interesting.

“Yes,” I nod.

“What?” Andi asks, her head darting between Leo and I.

“I’m not going to finish the shoot if that photographer is going to be the one directing things. We can make it clear I’m the one who has the issue,” I say, meeting Leo’s sharp gaze.

The last thing I want is for people to blame Andi when everyone seems to have it out for her anyway.