Page 50 of Knot Your Rebel

Gray blue eyes sparkle like diamonds as a silly smile appears on her face. She looks almost wistful as she thinks about it. I’ve seen this look before. She’s lust drunk. “Babe… it’s not the first time I’ve been with an alpha.”

I balk at her admission, my eyes widening. “No shit, who was the first?”

A cheeky grin spreads her lips. “You remember the name Tague from back at the start of my sophomore year in college?”

I rummage through the cobwebs in my brain. The name does sound vaguely familiar. “Maybe?”

Her cheeks pinken. “Um. He was the starting center for the hockey league.”

My head jerks, eyes squint, and brows furrow. With a bit of a raised lip, I look at her quizzically. “Wait! He was an alpha?” The dude was way too small to be an alpha. I would’ve bet money on him being a beta. “No way.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to believe it either, but he had the damn alpha bark and knot to prove it. And boy was that knot fucking glorious.” She fans herself and I can’t help but laugh at her antics.

My nose scrunches. “You’re blowing my mind right now. You’ve taken a knot? How did I not know this?” The words fall from my mouth before I can even second guess them.

Nova grins through my shock. “Obviously. Betas can be trained to take them, you know.”

I scramble to find words. “I mean… I know that. Sorry, Nov, I’m just still caught on the Tague is an alpha bit. I’m just…”

She looks down at her nails. “I know. Crazy, right?”

“Wow.” We both sigh then, reaching for our respective cups of coffee.

She brings the mug to her lips, tipping it so the liquid flows out faster, and moans. “Why the hell is coffee so delicious? Like, who woke up one day and was like… today is the day I shall change everyone’s lives by making coffee? I could fucking kiss them right now.”

“I wanna say it was created in Ethiopia by some goat herder?”

“Really,” she frowns. “I was not expecting that.”

I lift my shoulders in a shrug. The last time I looked up anything coffee related was years ago so it’s possible my brain is leading me down the wrong path of thought. “I mean… you can double check me. I’m pretty sure I looked it up before.”

“I believe you.” God, I’ve missed this. Just me and my bestie. With everything that’s happened lately, it's just now that I realize how long it’s been since we slowed down and just talked about the most mundane things, like where the hell coffee was created. “So… you're still up for letting me take some pictures of you today for my class, right?”

My gaze catches hers, taking in her bedridden look this morning as my finger runs along the rim of my mug. “Definitely. Just let me know what you need me to do, wear, all the things.”

“Well… I’d say throw on some sexy lingerie, a few swipes of makeup, and you should be good to go.”

My eyebrows furrow over the sudden heaviness in my chest. “And you say this is for school?”

“Yes…” She says exaggeratedly. “Professor Dawson said this is a big portion of our next project, so we really needed to put some extra effort into it.”

“But…” No one needs to see my chunky, not so normal thighs, or my large boobs falling out of a risque piece of negligee.

She must catch my expression because she tsks me. “Stop… you are fucking gorgeous, and anyone who tells you otherwise can deal with Mr. Taser.” I snort, but she continues. “I’m serious. Even if I have to taser you until you believe me. I freaking wish I had some of your curves. But no… I’m a fucking string bean.”

I frown at her, my hands placed lightly on my hips. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the way you look, Nov…”

Nova clicks her tongue. “Exactly. Kettle, meet pot. Or something like that.”

The next fifteen minutes are met with silence as we hang out together at the island in the kitchen drinking coffee, Nova with her romance novel, and me with my thoughts. I know, scary.

“Okay, time’s up. Go get dressed so I can start on these pictures.” I rise, grabbing our coffee mugs to rinse them out in the sink before making my way to my room. It takes me several minutes to decide on an outfit as I stand in front of my dresser looking at the clothes before me. What the hell should I wear? Bright red, baby blue, naughty black? Ugh. I hate having to pick out clothes.

I decide on a sexy little navy blue piece.

My eyes trail over my body in the mirror searching out all the insecurities I see in my body.

The extra cellulite on my legs.

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