Page 5 of Believe it or Knot

Tommy’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, as he stares at me cuddled up with Liam. Rafe glances over, meeting my eyes. “You pay for this already?”

“What? Oh, yes.”

Without another word, Rafe turns, grabs the three pizza boxes and then promptly shuts the door in Tommy’s face.

My nose wrinkles. “He’s probably going to tell everyone he meets that you’re here.”

Liam shrugs as Rafe carries our dinner to the kitchen and slides it onto the island. “I doubt anyone will actually believe him. He doesn’t have proof.”

Rafe looks over at me before he moves to grab plates out of the cabinet. I try to stand up and help. It’s my house after all and they’re guests, but Liam clamps a hand on my thigh to keep me where I am. “Do you think he’ll go to the press, lovely?”

I snort and settle back on the couch. Satisfied that I’m not moving, Liam picks up the remote and flicks through the menu to find something to watch. “No, not at all. Unless you consider the Kilrose Gazette the press.” I hold up a hand. “And before you say anything, it’s a weekly paper that a group of old biddies put out that is mostly just gossip from around town. Half the stuff they print is just hearsay. And the Ap has never picked up a story from it.”

Rafe nods as he flips open the boxes, taking in what I ordered and then slides slices onto plates. “I really can help,” I say, pushing to my feet only to be tugged right back onto the couch next to Liam, closer than we had been sitting.

“Just stay put, lovely,” he murmurs in my ear. “Rafe has it covered.”

Heat flares in my chest and spreads up to my cheeks, and a throb low in my body starts up, wet heat building between my legs.

I’m not an omega, so slick isn’t a thing for me, but I am a woman and my body is helpless against Liam. Absolutely freaking helpless.

He chuckles, low and dirty, like he knows the effect he has on me. There’s another clenching in my core and I just barely bite back a whimper of need. I’ve known this man for all of twenty minutes. It’s not okay for me to be lusting after him like this.

So freaking embarrassing.

Besides that, he’s probably just turning on the charm like he does for fans and interviewers, you know? There’s a reason he’s America’s sweetheart omega along with Hollis Grailess. People love him because he’s charming as hell. And handsome, to boot.

You’re not special, Sorrel, I remind myself stubbornly. He just needs a place to stay for the night. He’s not here for you.

Feeling more resolved after my stern talking to myself, I straighten away from him and push my arousal away.

It’s not like anything would come of it, anyway. He’s Liam Cordova and I’m just me. Boring, small town, little life me.

My brows jump in surprise when Rafe approaches, expertly balancing three plates on one arm and three drinks in his other. “Did you work as a waiter in a past life or something?” I ask before I can think the better of it.

Rafe chuckles, as he hands out the drinks first, Liam and I taking them quickly. “No, but this one is a demanding little omega. He always wants a million different things when he’s in preheat, so I’ve gotten good at carrying lots of food all at once.”

If either man notice that my cheeks have flared bright red at the mention of a heat, they’re nice enough to not mention it. “Hey, that makes it sound like I’m hard to live with!” Liam protests, taking his plate from Rafe. He looks at me with big puppy dog eyes. “I’m not, I swear I’m not.”

I nudge him with my shoulder and smile at him. “I believe you.” Rafe flops onto the spot next to me, squeezing me between them, when I would have thought he’d go for the armchair. The feeling of their strong thighs along the length of mine, their scents mingling in the air makes my stomach flip in a way it hasn’t since I was a teenager and I watched as Gage Wagner pulled himself out of the lake and onto my dock with his muscles rippling and his skin all sun kissed.

I’d felt bad after because he’s my best friend and we’ve never looked like that at each other, but I couldn’t help but feel it then. He was freaking gorgeous, and it was the first time I realized maybe I had a crush on him. Still do if I’m being honest, even though I haven’t seen him in years.

“So,” Liam says, settling his plate on his knee and picking up the remote again. “What are we watching?”

I shrug and look down at my food, only partially surprised to find its exactly what I would have made up for myself. One slice of the BBQ chicken, one slice of pesto, spinach, feta and sundried tomato. Though I would have also put two slices of the cookie pizza on there, given my PMS status.

Rafe nudges me with his elbow. “Eat, conejita.”

As Liam settles on a TV show about an FBI agent whose job it is to sit by a phone until it rings, I pick up the first slice and eat.

It’s surprising how comfortable I am with both of them, given who they are and what they both do for a living. But we snuggle together and eat, drink too much wine and talk. Conversation flows easily, so much so that eventually Liam pauses the TV show and I put on some music, and we talk until my eyes get heavy and a yawn stretches my mouth.

At some point, Liam points at my guitar. “Do you mind?”

I’m quick to shake my head. “No, of course not. Be my guest.”

He gives me the most gorgeous smile as he pushes to his feet and ambles over to pick up the instrument, carrying it back to where Rafe and I are sitting. He perches on the coffee table in front of me when I’d expected him to take the chair to have more space, and pauses, fingers idly strumming before he begins to play.

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