Page 109 of Knot So Social

“You okay there, darlin’?” Jeremy asks, stumping over.

Am I? I’m not sure.

“Ah, maybe now’s a good time for a proper introduction? Willow, this is my brother Joel. Joel, meet Willow.”

Joel’s cheeks turn dark red beneath his beard shadow. “A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

“Willow.”

“Huh?” he cocks his head, craning back to meet my gaze.

“Call me Willow. Please.”

His gaze flicks over my shoulder to his brother and back to me. “All right, Willow.”

I wish he’d put his other arm around me and hug me tight, but my human nature is starting to catch up with my omega self, and it’s roaring in with a giant scolding.

“Um.” I release his collar and unwind my legs, slithering down his body. Jeremy steadies me from behind as my feet land.

“I’m sorry about that.” Lies. “Light, ah, in the s-studio.” I point in what I hope is the correct direction. “E-Excuse me.”

I turn and flee for the safety of my bedroom.

Flinging myself through the door and into my attached bathroom, I lean on the vanity. My hands shake as mortification floods my veins. What the actual fuck, Willow? One heat, and suddenly you’re acting like a bond-sick omega with every alpha who walks through the door?

I study myself in the mirror. To be fair, a lot more alphas have walked through that door this month than in the previous seven years combined. Maybe my system got overwhelmed. I swallow down a groan.

No, this has less to do with my heats returning, and more to do with who I really am. I’ve kept people at arm’s length for so long, I forgot how good it felt to have company. Mr Shares excluded.

And that scent! What sane girl could resist getting an extra whiff of that? If summer had a scent, that would be it in a nutshell. I wash my face, scrubbing at my skin in an effort to wake up from the pheromone stupor. I need to be able to go out there and face Joel. Apologize. Talk to him about the lighting equipment.

But my hands still quiver.

Because my soul says this is something more, something I’ve never come across before, not to this extent. Scent matching was supposed to be a fantasy. One that girls like me don't get to dream about.

Scent matches? What are you, twelve, Willow? If everyone waited around for a scent-match, there wouldn’t be another fucking pack formed in the world.

That was Drew, laughing about a daydream I accidentally mentioned out loud.

But Bryson took my words far more personally. His eyes narrowed and his scent turned bitter as he grabbed my chin. “Is this your way of trying to get rid of us, omega? If so, don’t bother. There’ll be no scent matches for you, ever.”

He was wrong. One exists, an alpha whose scent seems created exactly for me. And come to think of it, haven’t I been far too open with both Jeremy and Alessandro to say that I simply like their scents? Sure, their alpha musk isn’t as powerful as Joel’s, but it still affects me more than other alphas. Enough for me to overcome my alpha-aversion . . . and that’s saying a lot.

So what do I do now?

The door creaks open in the bedroom behind me. Jeremy’s reflection bobs in the mirror as he swings himself across the carpet. I tense as he reaches the doorway. He’s the one who helped me through his heat, but I climbed his brother the moment I met him?

That can’t be pleasant for this alpha.

Chapter thirty-four

Jeremy

Willow’s eyes flick up to meet mine in the mirror, her blue orbs bright with tears, contrasting with her pale face. A shiver runs down her back.

I lean my crutches against the wall and hop up behind her, resting my hands on the vanity either side of her body. She looks like she’s about to cry. I know this expression. It’s like when her heat first roared to life—vulnerable, uncertain, and shocked by her own feelings.

Gently I scoop her hair to one side, exposing her neck. I drop tiny kisses on the soft skin from her collar to hairline. She closes her eyes and leans into my touch, her body slowly relaxing. But a single tear leaks, streaking a silver trail down her cheek.