Page 135 of Knot So Social

I hiss under my breath and undo his leash, holding his collar firmly as I unwrap the length from the table leg.

“Just sit still for a bit,” I mutter, clipping the end back onto his collar loop and pressuring his rear end.

The tawny dog stubbornly resists the push, swinging out into someone’s path.

“Sorry,” I mutter to the person who almost spilled their drink, guiding Jock’s hips back beside my chair. He disappears under the table instead. “You’re not nearly as well behaved as Mr Shares,” I scold.

The boxer grins at me, tongue lolling out and drool leaking from his lips thanks to the food scents pouring out of the kitchen.

My smile relaxes and I grab him around the ears, tousling playfully. Hard to stay depressed with that foolish face grinning back at me. Even though he was a rescue dog, what were we thinking when we decided to get a boxer? They’re notoriously hard to train, and clearly neither Tracey nor I had enough time to give such a big, energetic dog.

And yet I can’t find a shred of regret in my heart. Not for Jock’s existence, anyway.

“Guess we better find a house with a yard,” I muse into my froth before taking a big gulp. The cold beer washes down my throat, bringing a touch of refreshing coolness under the heat of the day.

Willow's estate has an enormous yard; it’s basically a paradise for energetic dogs.

The sky behind the Bank of America Plaza deepens with a heavy purple tint, the early promise of an incoming summer storm. Might blow past the city yet, but we haven’t had any big ones lately. I’ll need to get Jock inside before it hits.

The waiter arrives with my chicken and avo Turkish roll, and I push food into my mouth that’s never gonna fill the hole in my stomach. No food ever will, because it’s not a physical pain. It’s not even relationship related.

It’s like a new part of me has ripped open, all thanks to a shocking Jasmine scent.

I can’t say I’m really in touch with my alpha instincts. Since the first time Tracey said any show of alpha spirit scared her, it became second nature to hold myself in check. But now it simmers below the surface, as tangible as the storm rolling in over the city and equally as powerful. Daring me to try stuffing it back in its soul box after tasting my omega.

Jock turns back, whacking the chairs at my table so loudly with his tail that I wince. When he lays his head on my knee and implores with big brown eyes, I cave and feed him some of the chicken pieces, getting a handful of drool for my efforts.

I stare at the silvery wet trails for a moment before wiping them off on my shorts. That’s all my efforts have ever amounted to—a handful of waste left in an empty hand. Well, except for a thriving business that’s groaning under the weight of my absence. If I really don’t plan to return, I’ll need to take a pay cut and hire another electrician.

I groan softly and lean my chin on my clean fist.

A woman across the courtyard laughs, tossing back her head and making her blonde hair shimmer. Looks a lot like Willow from behind. For a moment I live on in a daydream. Willow, out with her friends, when I stumble upon their gathering. I pull up a chair, insert my way into her conversation. Say something dazzling that makes her smile.

I can be a good conversationalist, when I need to. Even read books on it and shit. Make a person feel special and listened to. Then what? A stray, accidental touch across the knuckles. Sparks fly, my belly flip-flopping like I’m a teenager again.

And all the while my alpha instinct rages with the need to drag her into my van and bond her right there before anyone can steal her away.

It’s such a carnal, animalistic need that my breath catches. My cock stiffens painfully, trapped in my underwear, living proof of the dilemma stirring my soul.

I’ve never felt this strongly about a woman before. Or about a human, career, person, or power. One breath and my internal compass swung completely in her direction.

When my friends talked about scent matches, I’d give a tight-lipped smile and nod. That was always for other people. Didn’t seem logical enough for me. But now? Now I’m drowning in that very ill-logic. Just the memory of the woman who wrapped her arms around me briefly has me quivering in my boots.

And so, I have a decision to make.

Do I reach out, see if she feels the same way about me? Risk another entanglement, but this one with the essence of myself on the line? If it doesn’t work, I’ll break for sure this time.

A pitched male voice rises above the hum of the crowd. “Oh, my stars, is that the bastard himself? I cannot believe my eyes.”

My stomach sinks with unhappy recognition

Beau sashays through the crowd and leans his forearms on the back of a chair at my table. A rich omega-level scent, underpinned with a chemical edge, drifts through the air around him. Rowan falls into place beside him, one arm hooked around his lover while Pete pulls out a chair and drops into it, arms crossed over his chest.

Their eyes flash, sharp as daggers.

I lift my beer as if to toast them.

“Fancy seeing you lads here,” I say.