Page 62 of In Knots

Chapter 17

As the sky darkens the noise in the pub increases, and more and more people cram into the space. At some point, someone cranks on some music, a rock band I’m vaguely familiar with, and the patrons start to sway in time, arms linked around necks, pints spilling onto the stained carpet, singing along to the words. Bear seems to be leading the singalong, jumping up onto a table, even though he already towers above the heads of everyone else in the building, and swings his arms about, conducting the recital.

Beside me, Buzz sings his heart out and Ryan drums his fingers on the table in time to the beat. Cam catches my eye.

“You don’t know the words?” he mouths at me. I shake my head. He scoots his stool around to whisper in my ear, resting his arm on my shoulder. His scent is like caramel. “They don’t make sense anyway. What song do you know? I can tell Bear to make them play it.”

“Oh no,” I say, raising my hands up. “I can’t sing.”

“Did you go to one of those hoity-toity Omega schools?”

I roll my eyes, “Maybe.”

“Did they teach you to sing?”

I groan. “I don’t hear you singing,” I point out.

“I hate this shit.” He grins.

“He likes Mozart and all that bollocks,” Ryan yells over the din. “Makes us listen to that shit when we’re working on a particularly tricky engine. Says it helps us concentrate.”

I rotate my head to look at Cam and he shrugs. I wonder if he was telling me the truth when he said he had no idea about art.

“It’s been scientifically proven to help concentration,” he shouts back to Ryan, then whispers in my ear, “But I also get bored of the crap they play in the garage. Need a break from it sometimes.”

“I like this music, actually,” I say.

“Hey, each to their own,” Cam says, his face coloured by the alcohol. “Can’t say I agree with your taste …” He points a thumb at his pack mates.

“Hey!” Ryan says. “The girl’s got excellent taste.”

The music ends with a guitar solo and then the pub erupts into cheers, Bear taking a bow before jumping from the table and joining us.

The music shifts to something more sultry and couples start to invade the space left by the now finished darts match.

“I didn’t see you singing,” Bear says to me and Cam. “I know he claims not to know the words. What’s your excuse, hot cheeks?”

“I don’t either.”

“You don’t like that music?”

“I do like it.”

“Then, why aren’t you dancing?” he throws an accusatory look at his friends. Then he holds out his hand. “Would you like to dance, Alexa?”

I glance towards Buzz and he winks at me. “Sure,” I say.

Together, we squeeze through the crowd and join the other couples. Closer now, I can see the style is nothing like the dancing we were taught at omega school. No foxtrots or waltzes. The couples cling to one another, grinding their hips, hands clutching at shirts and groping at backsides.

I glance up at Bear. “I’m not sure I know this dance.”

“We don’t have to–”

“Show me,” I say. It’s far more sensual than the dancing I’ve been taught. Freer, wilder. I want to move like those girls. To feel like those girls, their cheeks flushed with desire, their pupils blown wide.

He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me in close to his body. He’s still holding my hand with the other, and he wraps my arm around his neck, encouraging me to cup his hot gland. Then his hand rests on my thigh and tugs on my skirt, lifting the material higher and higher, my heart beating more fiercely with every inch of skin exposed. He halts when the hem reaches my mid-thigh, my breath coming in pants of anticipation. Nudging my legs apart with his knee, he brings me even closer to his body.

“You hear the beat?” he whispers right by my ear, his voice deeper now. I feel like everyone is watching us. Bear is huge and one of the best looking men in the pub. But it’s not just that. He has an energy about him, a radiance that casts him in dazzling light and brightens everyone around him. Held in his arms, I feel that heat more than ever.

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