Page 47 of Knot in Bloom
“Right. Just happened.” River takes a bite of his sandwich, studying my face with amusement. “And how’d that go? Three alphas, one omega in crisis?”
“Better than expected, actually.” I sink onto one of the kitchen stools. “We worked together. No territorial bullshit, no competition. Just focused on what she needed.”
“Huh.” River’s eyebrows raise. “That’s either really mature or really telling.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean most alphas would be pissing on trees by now, marking territory.” He leans against the counter. “But you three are coordinating instead of competing. That’s either very evolved behavior or...”
“Or what?”
“Or pack instincts kicking in.” River shrugs like he’s discussing the weather. “Your omega, your pack. Biology’s got its own logic.”
My phone buzzes before I can process that fully. Text from Sadie.Would you all want to come over for dinner? My place, seven-thirty? Shop’s closed tomorrow so we can actually relax. After this morning, I owe you more than just thank you.
I stare at the message. She’s inviting all three of us. To her apartment.
“Oh damn,” River says, reading over my shoulder without shame. “She’s inviting all three of you over? At the same time?” His grin turns knowing. “Dude, I think she might just be your omega. And you might be getting a pack out of this too.”
My pulse quickens. “You think?”
“I think she just made a very clear statement about what she wants. And what she wants is all of you.” River finishes hisbeer. “So you better figure out what you’re bringing besides your pretty face and excellent timing.”
My pulse quickens as I read the message again. A whole evening with her. With all of us. In her space where she feels safe enough to let her guard down.
“What should I bring?”
“Wine’s classic. Something good enough to show you care, not so expensive it feels like you’re trying too hard.” River finishes his sandwich. “And maybe that poetry notebook you’ve been working on. Might be time to be a little more direct about your feelings.”
An hour later, I’m standing outside her building with a bottle of red wine and my poetry notebook tucked in my jacket pocket, watching Caleb approach from one direction carrying a six-pack of craft beer, and Reid from another with what looks like a bottle of expensive tequila.
We converge at her door like we planned it, though none of us texted about timing.
“Interesting,” Reid says, taking in our simultaneous arrival and the alcohol we’re all carrying.
“Natural,” Caleb corrects, and there’s something in his tone that suggests he’s as affected by whatever’s happening between us as I am.
I knock, and when Sadie opens the door, the scent that hits us stops all three of us in our tracks.
Honeysuckle and vanilla, but deeper now. Richer. With an undertone that makes my cock thicken in my jeans and every alpha instinct I have purr with recognition. She’s wearing a soft sweater that hugs her curves and jeans that make her legs look endless, but it’s her scent that affects me most.
“Hi,” she says, a little breathless, pupils already dilated from catching our combined scents in the small hallway. “Come in.”
Her apartment has been transformed. Candles flicker on surfaces, casting warm light across cushions she’s arranged around her coffee table. The lighting is softer, more intimate than usual. Wine glasses sit ready, and something that smells incredible simmers on the stove.
“This smells amazing,” Caleb says, following her toward the kitchen.
“Beef stew. Comfort food seemed appropriate after this morning.” She accepts our offerings with flushed cheeks, setting the wine and beer in the kitchen, but her gaze lingers on Reid’s tequila bottle with interest. “I wasn’t sure what everyone would want to drink, but it looks like we have options.”
“Tequila for later,” Reid says with a slight smile. “When we’re feeling brave.”
The comment hangs in the air, loaded with possibility, and I watch Sadie’s pupils dilate further.
We settle around her coffee table with bowls of stew and wine, the intimate setting making every interaction feel charged. When she reaches for the salt, her fingers brush mine.
“I still can’t believe we pulled off this morning,” she says, tucking her legs under her on the cushions. The movement makes her sweater ride up slightly, revealing a strip of skin that makes my mouth water. “This morning I thought the photo shoot would destroy my reputation.”
“This morning you were spiraling in your own head,” I say gently. “You just needed to remember what you were really trying to create.”
