Page 25 of Knot Your Sugar Rush
“Yes, Gram.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go let those handsome men take care of you. I won’t tell your mother if you don’t.”
I groan and kiss her forehead. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Like you didn’t get it from me.”
I linger, and my voice drops to something quieter. “Gram... I don’t think I’m ready. For love, I mean. After Eric... I just... I can’t.”
Her expression softens, and she reaches up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear like she used to when I was little.
“I know, sweetheart. You’ve been hurt. You don’t have to be ready. Just be honest with yourself. And trust your heart to know when it’s time.”
A knot loosens in my chest. “Thanks, Gram.”
“Anytime. Now go home. I’ll be right here tomorrow, laughing with nurses and flirting with doctors.”
I smile and leave the room with my chest just a little lighter.
When I step back into the waiting area, the three of them stand to meet me without a word.
“Would you mind... taking me home?” I ask.
Dane steps forward. “Let’s get you there.”
No hesitation. No expectations.
Just quiet, steady presence.
And maybe, just maybe, something like safety.
Chapter fourteen
Jamie
The car is quiet for all of three seconds before it turns into a pressure cooker.
Cam’s in the back seat beside me, tucked into the corner like she’s trying to take up as little space as possible. She’s quiet, her fingers worrying the edge of her coat, but her scent—gods, her scent—is everywhere. Warm, soft, a little spiced from tears and stress, and still so very her. It wraps around all of us, curling into the crevices of the car like smoke.
Dane’s driving, jaw tight, hands gripping the wheel like the steering column owes him money. Theo’s in the front passenger seat, quiet and still, except for the subtle twitch of his fingers drumming against his thigh.
And I’m trying really, really hard not to inhale like I’m drowning.
We’re all trying to act normal, like we’re not three alphas crammed in a car with a single omega who smells like safety and heartbreak and something none of us want to admit aloud.
We’d talked about it years ago—how it might be nice to share a bond with someone who could tether us all. Someone whocould soften our edges and stitch our differences together. But it had always felt like a daydream. Something for other people. Someone else's life.
Now she’s sitting next to me. Camellia Vale. She’s grown into herself in a way that’s quiet and unshakable, even with everything that’s happened. And she smells like a wish.
I glance sideways. Her eyes are fixed on the passing trees, the glow of streetlights flashing across her face.
“You doing okay?” I ask softly.
She startles a little but nods. “Yeah. Just... processing.”
“You were solid back there. She’s lucky to have you.”
Cam lets out a shaky breath. “I’m lucky to have her.”
