Page 52 of Knot So Social

Tracey gasps for breath, cushion stuffing floating around her. She seems smaller, weaker than I remember. Childish even. Did I turn her into this, going along with all her demands, or was it a flaw embedded in her long before we met?

A bitter truth dawns on me as I stare. The fights and moods weren’t some phase we were going through. There were no sudden pre-wedding jitters. Hell, even her fear of my alpha state may not have been real. The red-faced cheater in front of me throwing a tantrum and breaking the furniture is the real Tracey—the one she hid the entire time we dated.

The way she sliced away my interests and hobbies one by one, my palate, clothes style. and time slowly molded to please her, none of it was ever about making me happy or fulfilling my needs.

How could I have been so blind?

“We’re over,” I say woodenly. “My lawyer will be in touch about the assets.”

My eyes burn as I put my things in the van, shoving mindlessly at the equipment inside until it all fits. Takes a few tries before I can shut the doors.

Now what?

My mind floats far away, icy cold and blank, but my fingers move on autopilot as I text my brother.

Can I crash at yours a bit longer?

Sure. House is empty anyways. Good news, I got the job. Can you put the aloe in the sun somewhere? Key’s under the gnome.

I bark out a mirthless laugh. No judgement from Jeremy, just acceptance. And of course he got the job. He always gets the job, then loses it, and moves on like he’s fucking unstoppable. With a smile on his face.

And he leaves his spare key where any random passerby could find it.

I throw the van into reverse and leave the driveway, casting one last look at the home that belonged to me and my fiancé—ex fiancé. And then it’s gone, like it never existed, vanishing from my rearview mirror as I turn the corner.

My brain blanks, scrubbing at all the time I spent with Tracey. What I accomplished or even who I was before we met blurs away, as if a decade of my life has been scrubbed from the record.

Who the fuck did I become? Whoever that man was, he just broke apart.

Chapter sixteen

Jeremy

Things must be bad for Joel if he wants to sleep at my cramped place again. Well, he did seem off, ever since he growled at me on the phone that day. Maybe his fiancé really dumped him.

But I don’t have time to mull over his problems, because I’m too busy cramming my brain with every scrap of information about omegas, heats, and first aid I might ever need.

Luckily my physical report was fine. When they asked about my scrapes and found out I’d been T-boned at an intersection, all the staff got so concerned for me. Logan asked if I needed more time before beginning work, but I assured him I'm fit for purpose. And since my wounds will be closed before I see any clients, the medical staff weren’t worried.

The psych analysis also went well. Apparently I’m not a psychopath or narcissist, so that’s a positive.

And the heat training? Most of it’s common sense, and in a strange way, a culmination of many things I’ve learned in totally odd places. Like bits of sports massage from high school football training, and correct lifting techniques from a warehouse job I had once, and trauma response from that one time I did a stint as a 911 operator.

I’d thought I was completely out of my depth here at Heat Wave, but each new certification I tick off seems deeply meaningful. Like this is where I’m supposed to be.

And that’s a brand-new sensation.

An alpha walks into the staff room and grabs a water bottle from the fridge.

“Still slaving away, new guy?” he asks, flashing me a cocky grin.

“No rest for the wicked,” I quip, leaning back in my chair and stretching out the cricks in my neck.

He walks over and offers his hand. “Simon Roudler. I’m a service officer here.”

“Jeremy,” I say, flashing him a smile. “Service officer in training.”

The alpha has a nice, firm grip, but brings with him a flood of intense scents, like a candle shop. Creamy strawberry musk mixes with cloves and star anise, the combination burning my nostril. All of it signals that a lusty omega’s nearby.