Page 46 of Knot Here for You

The faint scent of honeyed nectarines and vetiver filters through the air, faint but unmistakably omega. My omega.

I groan and press my tongue against her lips, needing to taste her, needing that sweet taste on my tongue. She kisses me back, hand sliding up to my neck, fingernails digging into my skin, causing pinpricks of pain. That’s right, baby, mark me up. Let the world know I’m yours.

My hand travels up, tangles in her hair and tilts her head just so, letting me devour her. Get deeper.

She kisses just like I remember. Only better, because this isn’t a faded memory. This is real. She’s here in my arms, smelling sweet as hell and pressing her soft body against all my hard edges.

I never want to stop kissing her. I want to go through the rest of my life with my lips pressed to hers, to her skin, her hair. Any part of her I can reach.

She pulls away, gasping for breath, and I let her. I’m feeling a little ragged myself. “Vee,” I rasp, dragging wet kisses long her jaw as her head tilts, baring her neck for her alpha. “My perfect pipsqueak.” I nip the corner of her jaw, drawing out a needy moan, before soothing the spot with a teasing lick from my tongue. “My omega. Mine.” My teeth scrape over the patch of skin I’ve imagined sinking them into a million times over the years, a primal possessiveness filling me.

She jerks back so fast at the contact that she falls off my lap, landing on the floor tangled in the blanket. I watch her struggle to right herself for a moment, stunned at her reaction, before I reach for her. “Pip, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She whines and crab walks away from me, scrambling across the floor as quickly as she can to put distance between us. My purr starts up in my chest, my alpha reacting to the panicked sound pulling out of her. I did that. I made her panic. I’m causing her distress.

Being with you hurts.

She said it before. I heard it, but I’m not sure I actually believed it until now. Until I kissed her and this is her reaction, cowering on the floor to keep distance between us.

“Pipsqueak,” I say, dropping onto my knees and crawling toward her slowly. “I’m sorry.” I need to fix this, need to make her understand I would never, ever hurt her. Not again, not like we did before.

She keeps backing up until she hits the wall, and can travel no further. “Stop,” she whispers, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Please stop.”

I do. I stop three feet away from her, just out of reach. It’s torture. My Alpha is pushing me to close the distance to pull her into my arms. I push that need aside. This isn’t about me or my alpha and what we need. This is about what Sylvie needs. “Vee, look at me, please.”

She lifts her head and stares at me with anguished hazel eyes. “What?”

“I’m sorry. Not just about this, about this kiss. But about everything. We should have told you what was happening. We should have warned you about Yasmin and Jackson’s dad. We should have… never, ever agreed to that fucked up scheme, no matter what he threatened us with. I know it doesn’t make up for it. I know nothing I say will erase the pain you felt, baby. But believe me when I say if I could go back, if I could change the way things happened, I would. In a heartbeat, I would make sure you never felt for one moment that we didn’t want you, that you weren’t ours. Because you are ours, Vee. You will always be ours.”

Rule 12: Drinking doesn’t keep your problems at bay, it just makes dealing with them a lot more pleasurable

I wake up the next morning with Ford’s words ringing in my ears. He’d sounded so damn sure about it, so confident that we belong together. And part of me—my omega—wants to believe him, wants to just give in and say, ‘yes, yes, alpha. Whatever you want.’ But an equal part of me is so fucking terrified of what that would mean.

Because if I agree to let them try to make this up to me, if I agree to try with them, I’m opening my heart up to complete devastation. Again. I’m not sure they completely understand the power they have over me, how easily they could break me. One wrong move and I will shatter beyond repair, held together with off brand scotch tape.

I can’t let them in again. I won’t survive if they decide they don’t want me.

The only way forward is through, and I don’t want to spend any more time here than I have to. So I put Ford and his declaration out of my mind. And instead, focus on what needs to be done to allow me to go back to my quiet life in Lake Kilrose.

An hour later, I pull up outside my grandmother’s house. There’s a white van with a ladder strapped to the top that says Winston Construction and Design on the side, and a man staring up at the house wearing a pair of well worn Carhartts and a red flannel shirt. He’s talking loudly on the phone when I step out of the car, but snaps his mouth closed as I approach, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

His eyes run over me as he grins and says into the phone. “I gotta go. She’s here. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.”

I hear some kind of rough voice on the other side, which is surprising because I would have thought he’d be talking to Aurie, since she’s the one that gave me his name and number. But the man ignores whatever the person he was talking to was still saying and hangs up. “Sylvie Benson?”

“Kinsella,” I correct more out of habit than anything else. “But yes, I’m Sylvie.”

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he runs his eyes over me again. “I don’t remember you being this hot in high school.”

My brows arch as I fold my arms over my chest. “Excuse me?”

He blinks, seems to remember himself, and smiles at me sheepishly. “Right, sorry. You might not remember seeing as I was a senior when you were a freshman, but we went to school together. Cody Winston.” He holds out one calloused hand. I hesitantly slip my fingers into his, but once they’re there, I give a firm handshake. I can’t let him think I’ll be an easy target for overcharging.

“Oh, right,” I say, training to smile at him. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I’m actually surprised you’d remember me with the age gap and all.”

He releases my hands and runs it through his hair. “Well, everyone knew who you were, seeing as you hung out with the Werth brothers and their pack.”

His cheeks heat like he just realized that maybe he shouldn’t have brought up the pack the rejected his potential client, but I’m not going to let it bother me. Instead, I just hum noncommittally and look up at the house.

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