CHAPTER SEVEN
ANGEL
“Do you think we should check on her?” I ask, pacing the room. I feel antsy for some reason. Probably just the hunger. I hope the chef is quick. I mean steak should be medium rare at best. Doesn’t take long to cook.
“No, I think we should leave her alone and talk about why Beck is growling for no reason. Or how he’s been acting strange all damn night,” Tate grumbles, crossing his arms and moving further from the one he loves.
Beck sighs, places his tablet on the cushion beside him, then removes his glasses and starts to fuss with his hair. He’s on edge, and he’s giving us all the signals that he might be on the verge of a panic attack.
He hasn’t had one in a long time. This isn’t good. Moving closer, I crouch in front of him and wait for him to take some deep breaths. His blue eyes are wild, and his dirty-blond hair is now a tangled mess.
Tate is grumbling, ignoring how much Beck needs him right now. “Hey, B, look at me. What’s going on in that brilliant head of yours?” I ask him gently, and he bites his bottom lip.
“I think Belle might be my scent match… and if that means she’s mine, then she’s probably yours too.”
Well knock me over with a feather and smack my ass. “What?” I shout, then look behind me at the still closed door. Could she be ours? No, that’s crazy.
“I was going to tell you when we were all alone, but then the picnic happened, and the creepy guy…”
“That’s why you’ve been acting sad? Baby,” Tate groans, sliding closer and pulling him into his arms. I move back to give them a moment.
Beckett has trauma. Not only from his parents, but the world. He’s never seen himself as good enough and always second guesses if a person is genuine. I mean I get it. Ever since creating The Knotty Trip, I have had to be careful who to trust.
We were an overnight sensation, and the last five years have been full of madness, tears, and absolute joy. I love our fans and touring, but it gets lonely. I know Tate said he doesn’t want an omega, but if Belle is ours… I am not letting her go.
Walking toward her room, I stop at the door. Taking a few breaths, I lift my hand and knock.
“Come in.”
As I open the door, Belle is rubbing her eyes. There is a small light on the nightstand table next to the bed, giving off a dim glow.
Her hair is a tangled mess of blonde and silver, and she looks like she's been freshly fucked.
I know that she hasn't, but it doesn't stop my cock from thickening, and my knot from throbbing.
“Hey,” I grunt, moving a little closer to her. She gives me a smile and pulls the blanket against her chest.
“Hi. Is the food here?”
I shake my head and wave toward the other side of the bed. “Mind if I sit?”
“Umm, sure,” she says hesitantly, and I feel bad. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.
I climb up next to her, leaving enough space between us.
She lifts the blanket, offering it to me and I smirk. This isn’t the first time someone has tried to get me into bed with them, but this is new. I don’t usually snuggle. But with her I want to.
Once we are covered, she lays back down onto the pillow and turns to face me. Her kissable lips are right there, and I am fighting my instincts to roll her on to her back and kiss her until we are both breathless.
The wind rages outside, and Belle shifts a little closer to me, sighing as my body heat warms her.
“You're like a furnace,” she mumbles, her eyelids growing heavy.
“Should I leave?” I ask, and she shakes her head. Lifting my arms, she lies across my chest with a groan.
“I wish I could smell you. I bet it's amazing. Like a delicious pie or something woodsy.”
I laugh, my chest gently moving her head. “I've been told it's like Christmas in a cabin,” I say, and she sighs.