Page 175 of Knotting the Firefighters
"I still like Aidric. Not just in a horny attraction way, but a genuine emotional connection that never fully dissolved despite years of separation and anger."
Still likes him.
Present tense.
Current feelings, not just nostalgic memories.
"If we worked through our shit—" Calder's careful phrasing suggests he's testing waters, gauging my reaction. "—I wouldn't be opposed to rekindling a relationship within pack context. But that really comes down to whether Aidric wants to dive into that emotional complexity."
Pack context.
Including me rather than excluding.
Polyamory rather than choosing between connections.
My smile is genuine—pleasure at his honesty, satisfaction at his willingness to consider complicated dynamics.
"I'd be completely supportive," I declare with enthusiasm, throwing my hands up in a gesture of full endorsement. "Front row seat to watching you two work through years of unresolved tension while figuring out how to integrate into the functional pack dynamic."
His eye roll is affectionate rather than irritated.
"You just want to witness the male drama," he accuses without heat. "Voyeuristic entertainment watching Alphas navigate emotional vulnerability."
I laugh—a bright sound that echoes through the empty gym.
"With popcorn and—EEP!"
The world inverts without warning—Calder moving with speed that shouldn't be possible from a disadvantaged position, leverage and technique combining to reverse our positions in a single fluid motion.
How—?
When—?
Was he sandbagging this entire time?
Suddenly, I'm pinned beneath him, his weight distributed across my body in ways that are simultaneously restraining and carefully controlled. His smirk is absolutely triumphant, satisfaction evident as he leans down to capture my mouth in a kiss that tastes like victory and morning coffee.
"There," he announces when he finally releases my lips, breath warm against my skin. "I one-upped you. Gained upper hand through strategic patience and tactical surprise."
Cheater.
Absolute cheater.
Pretending to be defeated while planning a reversal.
"No fair!" My protest emerges indignant, body already attempting escape that his superior position prevents. "You cheating asshole! Letting me think I won so you could surprise attack!"
Tactical deception.
Which is actually an impressive strategy.
But I'm not admitting that while currently pinned.
My leg swings up reflexively—aiming for a vulnerable target with precision that would definitely end this encounter if contact were successful.
He rolls aside with impressive reflexes, narrowly avoiding a ball-crushing kick by mere inches.
"Jesus!" He scrambles to his feet, hands instinctively protecting threatened anatomy. "Not enjoying my morning coffee with an ice pack on my balls, thanks!"
