Page 116 of Knot What She Seems
Like flicking on a light switch, that phrase instantly riles up the competitor in Kylian. He rises to his knees, my plate perched on one hand as he leans forward until his face is just a hair’s breadth from mine. “Oh, I’ll know all your secrets one day, Brylee. All of them.” It’s not a threat. It’s the most tender promise anyone’s ever made me, and I lose the ability to blink or breathe for a millisecond.
Fully aware that he’s shocked me into silence, one side of his lips tilts up in a cocky grin as he retreats and hands me my plate.
Then, as if nothing happened, he sits back down among the others and simply states, “Well, I like cashew chicken the best. You other fuckers better find something else to eat.” And then he sticks his chopsticks right into a newly opened box and starts gorging on it.
The meal goes on with small talk and tiny revelations. I learn that Luka was forced to play piano like I was as a child and that he also loathes it. Kylian rock climbs. Ridge used to dirt bike through the forest as a kid and had to hide as a tornado ripped right by him once. And Colter…likes to visit his grandmother’s house once a month when he can.
Collecting all these little tidbits of information is a little like collecting shells on the beach, tiny treasures that I know I’m going to take home with me. And there’s a sweet innocence to this night out with them that I never expected. It’s so disarming and utterly charming, and I find myself unable to resist them.
As they talk, each one of them takes the opportunity to touch me whenever possible. Simple touches. Just a brush of hands when collecting my empty plate. Wide gestures that happen to brush up against me. Kylian even taps my shin when he makes a point.
All the while, their scents and their clear fondness for each other leave me dizzy and lightheaded. I’ve read about the intensity of scent matches before, and I’ve been around these professors together on multiple occasions, but only when I’ve been heavily dosed on suppressors that dim my scent or among massive groups like in class or at the ball—where other scents cloud the air.
Alone with all four of them?
Nothing else seems to exist as I drink in the type of adoration I’ve been craving my entire life.
I don’t know how I could ever have mistaken anything else for this feeling.
Everything I’ve felt before pales in comparison—absolutely fades to a ghost-like apparition.
Of course, I didn’t really believe a scent match would ever happen for me. That this phenomenal certainty could somehow fill up all the jagged holes that time has carved into my consciousness.
How is it possible that things just feel right?
That I trust them?
It makes absolutely no sense.
I should be running for the hills. Saying that I honorably upheld my end of the bargain with Luka—or exploit a loophole by claiming we’re not in their house but outside—and scurrying away from them as fast as my wobbly knees can take me.
But I’m not.
Instead of doing the smart thing—the safe thing—I’m leaning back against Colter’s broad chest, soaking in his body heat and smiling at Kylian as he tells me a story about a prank he pulled on Luka a few years ago.
“So, I zip tied a harmonica underneath his car.”
“No.” I glance over at Ridge, expecting to share a skeptical look, but the blond man merely nods.
“He did,” Ridge confirms.
Kylian picks his story back up as he waves an egg roll for emphasis. “I did, and it was epic. Every time he’d drive somewhere, there was a humming noise.” He mimics a harmonica before breaking into amused chuckles at his own cleverness. “I kept telling him I thought his air conditioner was failing. He’d let me work on the car, and I moved the harmonica to a different spot.”
My hand flies to my mouth to cover a grin as I glance over at Luka. “You didn’t figure it out?”
The brown-haired neat freak gazes through narrowed eyes at his packmate before turning to me. “Oh, I did. Took a left on the way to the grocery store, and the car made a noise kinda like a kazoo.” He demonstrates, sliding his pitch up and down. “But Kylian’s conveniently forgetting my revenge.”
Kylian merely gestures for Luka to share and then takes a bite of his eggroll as my attention swivels over to his packmate.
“Next time I made brownies, I gave Kylian a special one—made entirely of espresso grounds. He ate the whole thing in one bite.”
“Yes, but that backfired on you when I puked.” Kylian shrugs nonchalantly.
I glance over at Ridge, wondering if he participates in these shenanigans. “And you? Did you get involved in this battle?”
He leans back on his hands, staring out over the landscape. “Nah. Someone’s got to keep their head on straight.”
“You mean someone’s got to be the boss?” I ask innocently.
