Chapter 23

• As the steam dissipated, I reached for a tank top and trousers, slipping into the comforting embrace of the fabric. Mr. Anderson, having donned a crisp white polo paired with shorts, exuded a relaxed charm that was a departure from his usual demeanor. The sight of him in casual attire hinted at a side I hadn't witnessed before.
• With a gentle yet confident motion, he drew me closer, his fingers finding a comb. The rhythmic strokes of the comb through my hair felt like a delicate dance, each pass unraveling knots and caressing strands. The subtle fragrance of his cologne lingered in the air, adding to the intimacy of the moment.
• His touch was tender, and I found myself entranced by the simple act of having my hair combed by him. The room became a haven of shared tranquility, the only sounds the hushed whispers of the comb and the occasional rustle of fabric.