Page 48 of The Knotheads Next Door
I groan and pull my pillow over my face. This was not the plan. The plan was to keep my distance, maintain boundaries, and absolutely not develop any kind of attraction to any of my temporary roommates. I could lie to myself and say the planwas working if the pillow I'm desperately trying not to smother myself with, didn't smell like Jasper. Which it does.
Because it's his.
The plan is failing spectacularly.
It's not just Wells. It's Theo, with his gentle hands and kind eyes, scent-marking me when he thought I was asleep. It's Jasper, with his gruff exterior and those forearms that should require a permit. It's all three of them, filling the house with their alpha scents, their presence, their... everything.
And my body is responding with increasing enthusiasm, which is both terrifying and inconvenient.
Gerald mews from his cat bed in the corner, clearly deciding I've wallowed enough for one morning.
"You're right," I tell him, tossing aside the pillow. "This is pathetic. We're going to get up, take a cold shower, and pretend none of this is happening."
He blinks at me, unimpressed with my plan.
The shower helps, a little. The blockers help more, and the in-shower orgasm I give myself with the shower head helps the most. Though I'm having to use twice the amount of scent blocking lotion as much as I did when I first arrived. At this rate, I'll be bathing in the stuff by the end of the week.
Downstairs, the house is quiet. Theo's already at the clinic, according to the note on the fridge. Jasper's truck is gone, which means he's probably at a job site. And Wells... well, I'm not sure I'm ready to face Wells just yet
.
Which makes this the perfect time to escape to work.
At the flower shop, Crystal takes one look at me and raises an eyebrow. "Rough night?"
"Just tired," I say, reaching for my apron. "Mayor's Gala. Lots of small talk."
She nods, unconvinced. "Heard you went with Wells. The whole town's talking about it."
Great. Because what I really need right now is to be the subject of more small-town gossip.
"It wasn't a date," I clarify. "Just a work thing. He needed a plus-one."
"Mmhmm," Crystal hums skeptically. "And I need another shipment of peonies like I need a hole in the head, but guess what arrived this morning?"
I'm saved from further interrogation by the arrival of actual customers. The morning passes in a blur of arrangements, deliveries, and the soothing rhythm of flower preparation. By lunchtime, I've almost convinced myself that everything is fine. Normal. Under control.
Then my friends burst through the door like a glitter bomb of enthusiasm.
"There she is!" Lala exclaims, rushing forward to grab my hands. "Our belle of the ball! We've been dying to hear how it went!"
"It was fine," I say, already knowing this will not satisfy them. "Just a boring work event."
"Not according to Mrs. Landingham," Billie says, settling herself on the stool by the counter.
"She said you and Wells were, and I quote, 'thick as thieves all night, with him glaring daggers at poor Bradley Peterson.'"
I roll my eyes. "Mrs. Landingham also thinks her cat is plotting world domination with the help of alien technology."
"Her cat is definitely up to something," Avianna agrees thoughtfully. "But that's beside the point. Spill. Did you have fun? Did Wells behave himself? Did you?"
"Yes, yes, and yes," I say, busying myself with trimming roses to avoid their scrutiny. "It was just a nice evening out. A distraction from... everything."
The three exchange glances, and I brace myself for whatever's coming next.
"Honey," Lala says, her voice gentler than usual, "your scent has changed again."
I freeze mid-snip. "What do you mean?"
