Page 101 of Knot for Me
Marco’s laughter trails off, and he clears his throat. “How will you manage without alphas?” His eyes are curious, not scheming, so I humor him.
“A great vibrator and lots of blankets.” I shrug and take a drink.
The three of them do that silent communication thing of theirs. I carry on, taking a serving of the pasta and two breadsticks. I eye the basket and decide I can come back for a third later.
“What if you used us?” This from Cory, who casually takes a bite of his pasta like he didn’t just offer himself to be a sex toy.
“That sounds complicated.” I take a bite and chew, glancing at all of them. “What if you can’t control yourselves?”
“I think I’ve proven that I can,” Lucas drawls, looking at me over the rim of his wine glass.
He has a point, but still. It’s risky. Heats are packed with hormones and the strangest of desires. For all I know, I could end up begging them to mate me. I don’t want to lose myself in the thrall and then later regret what I’ve done. I also don’t want another incident like the one with Lucas, where they give me exactly what I ask for, but then after the fact, I freak out and ruin everything.
“You have,” I finally agree. “But no. I can’t.”
“Don’t trust yourself or us?” Marco asks, stabbing his pasta.
“Both. Me more than you, but both if I’m being honest.” I twist my mouth to the side and tear off a piece of bread. “I’m sorry I’m not a good omega.”
Lucas scoffs. “What makes you think you’re not good?”
“If I felt differently, maybe this could happen. I like you guys. You’re fun when you’re not being a growly asshole, but I just…” There’s no good reason other than stubborn pride.
“You don’t have to explain yourself if you don’t want to,” he says, glancing at Marco and Cory. “We’re not going to force anything on you. We enjoy your company too, if you haven’t noticed, and one heat isn’t worth ruining our friendship.”
“Friends?” I ask with a strained smile.
This is wrong.
It shouldn’t be friends, we should be mates.
I won’t give them children though. I can’t be who they need me to be. I can’t stop being myself and submit to them how an omega should. I can’t be theirs.
And that crushes me a little bit.
If I weren’t an omega, things would be different.
“If that’s what you want.” He takes a big gulp of wine then sets the glass down. “And if you want or need more during your heat, we’ll be here. I promise we won’t mate you without your consent.”
I chew on my cheek and nod, scooping up a bite and shoving it into my mouth. Cory changes the conversation and dinner carries on like normal, except for the strange offer from them nestling into the back of my mind. I only have five days until my heat starts.
They’ll help me through it if I want.
And part of me does.
The weak, omega part of me that wants alphas more than anything in this world.
I wish I could give her that.
Life would be a lot easier if I could.
* * *
I get crankier and hungrier with every day that passes. On Sunday, I snap at Frank after I burn popcorn and set off the smoke alarms. Monday, I eat more bacon than should be legally allowed. Cory doesn’t seem to mind making it for me though, and every time I get to the kitchen, there’s another batch on a plate waiting for me. My scent starts to change too, growing strong enough to make Frank cough every time I pass him. Cramps start on Tuesday, and with them come what I like to call Asshole Reagan.
I don’t say hello. I don’t smile. I don’t clean. No one gives me shit for it though. The guys go to work as usual, but there’s an unnatural amount of chocolate and wine waiting for me when I open the pantry to look for a snack. Frank simply nods and averts his gaze, probably worried I’m going to rip his head off again. My upper lip curls. I hate how he’s cautious around me, then I realize that I look like a psychopath snarling at him and it’s no wonder he’s not talking to me.
Wednesday is the day of theft. I’ve never been a thief. I imagine someone will notice that every blanket in the mansion is suddenly missing. I don’t feel an ounce of shame for taking the comforters from Cory, Marco, and Lucas’ beds. They smell good, and if I can’t have their knots, the least I can have is their scent. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it’s not rational to want traces of them in the nest I’m building, but I’m past listening to anything sensical. My focus is on one thing and one thing only. Making a comfortable space to cocoon myself in while my heat passes. If that means the guys only sleep with their sheets, then so be it.
