Page 38 of Knot Playing Fair 2

Zalen and Byron appeared to be in shock, both poised with spoons half-raised to their lips. Luca chewed his lower lip for a moment, hesitating.

“Yeah,” he said eventually. “I’d like that.”

I saw the other two alphas exchange a glance—one that clearly said, ‘Are you hearing what I’m hearing?’

Emiel didn’t miss it either. He took a deep, steadying breath. “Look... I’m sorry I dragged y’all into my shit. I didn’t mean to. Didn’t really think you’d come after me, if I’m being honest. But... I’m gonna try and get some help. Luca and Mia talked me into it.”

Byron still appeared dumbstruck.

Zalen recovered quicker. “Emiel, I think that’s fantastic. But you should know that we’ll always come for you. No matter what.”

“Damn right,” Luca muttered.

“Thirded,” I said.

There was a pause. Then Byron spoke, not looking at the rest of us. “You know I always get roped into this shit right along with the rest of them.”

Emiel’s eyes darted away from us, and he suddenly looked highly uncomfortable. “Yeah. Um... sorry. I need to...”

He slid off his stool, gaze flying to the room’s exit like it was a lifeline.

“Go on,” I said quietly. “I’ll bring you up one of the cakes in a little bit. Okay?”

He gave a quick, tight nod and escaped out of the kitchen, Princess shadowing him as usual. Silence settled in his wake.

“Thank you for talking him into that, you two,” Zalen said. “It’s overdue, and very welcome news at this point. Now, did someone say something about cake?”

I shook myself free of my temporary paralysis and nodded. “Yup. Just give me a few more minutes to add the finishing touches.”

All in all, the cake experiment ended up going better than I’d feared it might. After piping the hot fudge sauce into the centers of the individually sized cakes, I topped them with cinnamon buttercream frosting and plated them.

“Here we go,” I said, placing them in front of my appreciative audience. “Cinnamon-bergamot lava cake. Eight ninety-five per plate. Normally, lava cake is simply a regular cake that’s undercooked, so the center is still gooey. I’m cheating a bit with these, since I wanted a different flavor for the lava.”

This one, I hadn’t tested for myself yet. I pulled my own plate toward me and cut into it with my fork, pleased with the way the chocolate lava oozed out of the surrounding layer of moist, bergamot olive oil cake. I sniffed, nodding in satisfaction as all three flavor components came through loud and clear. Taking a generous bite, I let the sharp citrus, warm spice, and gooey chocolate roll over my tongue.

Oh, yeah. Pretty sure I had a winner here.

Apparently, I wasn’t alone in that opinion. Luca delicately wrapped his lips around his fork and slid the tines free. Almost immediately, his eyes rolled back, and a positively obscene moanrumbled free of his throat. He chewed and swallowed, his eyes slipping closed.

“Oh, mygod, Mia,” he said. “I think I just came.”

Zalen, Byron, and I all stared at him. Instantly, the subtle cloud of pheromones that always surrounded us sharpened. Luca’s eyes flew open. A pink flush colored his pale cheeks as he realized what he’d just said—and more importantly,howhe’d said it.

“Um...” I managed, suddenly aware that my body had just lifted its post-heat moratorium on horniness.

“Sorry,” Luca squeaked. “I meant... it’s really good? And you should probably charge more.”

“Agreed,” Zalen said. “On both counts.” He stoically went back to his dessert, but there was no hiding the way his tropical scent had grown richer.

In a surprise to precisely no one, Byron was not so quick to let it go. “Yes, you’ve captured our housemate’s flavor profile admirably, while somehow making it about a hundred times more fun than he is. Luca? We’re going upstairs now.” He stood, ignoring Luca’s protest as he neatly grabbed both his half-finished cake plate and Luca’s. “Mia, take Muhammad Ali’s dessert up to him and join us in my room afterward.” His cool gray gaze pinned mine. “Bring your leftovers when you come.”

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