After a few clumsy strokes with the brush, Thorne shakes his head. “Let me show you.” He folds his hand over mine, guiding the brush back to Zephyr’s silvery gray neck. “Go in the direction of the hair, not against it. Don’t brush so light you’re tickling him, but don’t bear down too hard either. And be gentle with the wings.” Together, we stroke the alicorn’s coat. I’m all too aware of the big, calloused hand wrapped around mine, and the unwelcome warmth such an innocent touch stirs inside me. Clearing my throat, I pull my hand away. “I think I’ve got it.” Thorne discovering my body’s
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