Page 49 of Knotting Hill
JP
In a daze,a state of pure disbelief at myself and my actions, I walk away from Storm’s flat and back towards the house on Lansdowne Crescent. I’d shown up as part of our plan to be in Storm’s face wherever she turned so that we would or could eventually wear her down. I did not expect her to come storming out of her place of work in tears. But it was the best thing that could ever have happened. I showed her.
I proved to her that I could walk away from her because the timing wasn’t right for us. She thinks I’m a walking cock, and prior to that day when she dumped coffee on me, I’d agree with her sentiment. But now…I haven’t had sex since the night before that, nearly two weeks ago. Okay, when I think about it like that, it doesn’t soundsobad, but for me, it is. Two days was my max prior to now, and that was only because I had the flu. I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, so I did. Why waste the opportunity? The time to mate would present itself when it was ready. And, fuck, did it. Moments before, I was explaining toJosh that I wasn’t ready to mate, and then I got slopped on and punched in the heart at the same time.
Fate.
I have no doubt at all that it is fate.
I stumble down the road, blind to everything and everyone around me. All I can focus on is getting as far away from Storm as I can. I hate that I had to walk away, but I would’ve ended up regretting sleeping with her now, and she most definitely would’ve, and our chance would have been blown. I can’t do that to myself or my pack, or her. She deserves better than for me to be thinking with my dick and not my heart.
I groan when my cock twitches in my pants. I get now why Josh went in for that kiss as soon as he could. She is perfection. She tastes like her scent, just as I knew she would. Fresh cherries that burst with flavour as you bite into them.
“Fuck. Fucking fuck.”
I hunch my shoulders and keep walking faster until I reach my house and come to a grinding halt.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I hiss, seeing the navy-blue Mercedes idling at the curb.
My dad’s driver waves to me, and I wave back before I practically punch the front door off its hinges. I did not need him here today. But it’s notentirelyunexpected. I knew he’d come sniffing around. He doesn’t believe for one second that I’m to be mated soon, and why would he? I’ve given him no reason to. I just hoped it would be a bit later when we had more to go on with Storm.
“JP,” he booms when he sees me.
He is lurking in the entrance hall, checking out the décor, looking for something specific. A woman’s touch, no doubt.
“Dad. What’s up?”
“I was around, so I thought I would come to meet the omega who tamed my wayward son.” He smiles ingratiatingly, which pisses me off further.
“Storm doesn’t live here, yet. But I’ve just come from hers.” So far, it’s all true.
“Hmm.”
“You don’t believe me? Smell me.” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it.
I expect him to turn his nose up, but he takes a curious step forward and inhales. He closes his eyes and smiles slowly. “Cherries. You said. Doesn’t mean she’s ready to be your mate, though.”
“Look, she is going through something right now. I’d rather not drag her down here to meet you. We will announce when we are ready, okay?”
“Problem?” The way he says it almost makes me feel like he is hoping there is.
“Nothing we can't handle.”
“Well, don’t dally, son. Your twenty-ninth is in four weeks. You are running out of time.”
“I don’t need to be reminded, and time isn’t a factor. We are all good.”
“We’ll see,” he says and brushes past me. “Sooner rather than later.”
I don’t bother answering. I just let him go and then drop my head into my hands. This is a disaster. I need a drink. Waiting a few minutes for him to leave, I hesitantly open the door to see the car has gone. Closing it behind me, I head in the direction of the bar where Storm met Franco. It’s nearly eleven. It’ll be open by the time I get there.
A few minutes later, I shove the doors open and aim for the bar, where I order three shots of Scotch, neat.
The bartender places them in front of me, and I pick up the first one, throwing it down my throat and relishing the burn. Slamming the upside-down shot glass on the bar, I pick up the second one, only to be interrupted by a blonde omega I recognise vaguely from out and about.
“Third one for me?” she asks, her big blue eyes wide and flirty as she leans on the bar.
“Nope.” I glug the shot and place the glass upside down next to its friend.
