Page 29 of Knot Going Down (OlympicVerse #3)

EMILY

I ’ve touched myself twice since Ava coached me through it two days ago. But it hasn’t been the same.

Knowing she was next to me, watching, listening, experiencing it with me, made it exponentially better. Not that it hasn’t been good the other times. It’s been empowering to know I can take charge of my own pleasure. I feel a little silly I didn’t figure that out sooner.

But… it still hasn’t been the same.

“What about this one?” Ava says, holding up a deep, inky navy gown. It almost looks black until the light hits it and reveals the rich midnight blue. Looking like poured silk through the bodice, it has thin, off-the-shoulder straps and a deep low V down the back.

I shake my head, mouth falling open. “I can’t wear that!”

“Why not?”

“It’s so… so…”

“Sexy,” Knox says from right behind me. I’m not sure when he moved so close, but the heat of him at my back sends a hot throbbing between my thighs. Ava may have created an addict.

“Try it on.” Ava pushes the gown into my arms, then guides me toward the dressing rooms at the back of the small shop.

She comes in with me and closes the curtain behind us.

It’s a normal action. Meggie and I have often shared changing rooms so we can try things on for each other.

I’ve undressed in front of plenty of women in locker rooms before swim meets—even in front of Ava before.

But this time feels different.

The dressing room is small, barely big enough for the two of us.

There’s a mirror opposite the curtained doorway and a small stool in the corner.

A bar for hanging garments lines one wall.

I fumble around Ava as I hang the dresses up, and she takes a seat on the stool.

With my back to her, I lift my shirt over my head, all too aware of her presence.

I’ve never spent much time picking apart my sexuality. I loved Knox. And after him, I didn’t feel much of anything for anyone. No one drew my attention like he had. Maybe I thought that meant I was straight. Maybe I never questioned it. But now, I’m questioning everything.

Maybe it’s not about gender. Maybe it never was. Maybe it’s about attention. Affection. Safety. Desire.

Is it weird to only want people who want you back? A kind of responsive attraction? It feels real. And complicated.

I can feel Ava’s gaze on me as I slip the dress over my head, but I refuse to look at her in the mirror. If I look, I might give away my thoughts. And I still don’t really know what I’m thinking.

“You should probably try it on without a bra,” Ava says. “You won’t be able to wear one with it.”

It’s a casual statement, but it makes my nipples tighten. “Right,” I mumble. “Yep.”

My hands feel clammy, heart racing, and there’s an ache I can’t explain deep inside me, hot and heavy. I’m so… turned on. Really turned on. That’s what this is, isn’t it?

When was the first time I felt this? Do people remember that kind of thing?

I don’t really remember learning about sex, either.

I didn’t get The Talk from my dad, but I put enough together from books and movies and overhearing stuff my friends said.

Every teen magazine had some Q&A section that always had one write-in asking if their boyfriend fingering them counted as popping their cherry, and I remember reading my first grown-up romance novel and looking up the definition of climax.

Ellis always offered to answer any questions I had, but I was not going to talk with my big brother about that . Health class was all about green discharge and sanitized genitals and entirely unhelpful other than managing to gross everyone out.

But I remember Violet. My best friend in middle school.

A year older, always effortlessly cool. She used to play with my hair, whisper secrets into the hollow behind my ear.

I’d feel so warm afterward, so fidgety and charged, like I didn’t know what to do with my skin.

I told myself it was admiration. But was that all it was?

I thought I wanted to be her. But now, looking back, I think I wanted her.

I just didn’t know that was allowed. I was, what, twelve at the time? Gosh, that seems so young when I look back from where I am now at twenty-two, when I compare it with the different couples and packs I’ve met and all the beautiful ways love can exist between people.

Meggie and I used to do each other’s hair and share a blanket watching a movie on the couch, but that wasn’t at all like the hot restlessness I felt being close to Violet.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Ava’s voice sounds a little strained, and it immediately cuts through all my rambling thoughts.

I turn around to look at her, dress hanging loosely over my head, hands still fumbling to unclasp my bra.

She sucks her lips between her teeth.

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

The eye contact she’s making is intense, like she’s trying to see straight into me. A flush builds from my chest, up my neck, my skin turning blotchy in the mirror behind Ava.

“I kissed Knox.” Her gaze doesn’t waver from my face, fully owning her confession. “I had a heat spike, of sorts, I guess. Knox helped me with it. He knows I’m an omega. And he said Declan keeps the pills in his wallet. I wanted to tell you last night, but…”

“Oh.” My stomach drops like the floor just gave out beneath me, a sting flashing sharp behind my ribs before I can school my face into something neutral. “Oh,” I repeat, softer.

Turning away again, I pull the dress down enough to cover my chest as I let my bra fall. With my jean shorts still underneath, the fabric bunches awkwardly at my hips.

“I’m sorry,” Ava says. “I know you have a history. And?—”

“No. It’s good.” I force a laugh as I shimmy my shorts off.

“Good?”

“I couldn’t get anything out of Declan, but now we know where the pills are, and that’s good. Really good. We don’t want you having any more heat spikes, or God forbid, a proper heat, right? I mean that would?—”

“Emily.”

She says my name with the force of a brick.

It stops my words, but not my mental spiral.

Did she like kissing Knox? Did he like kissing her?

Will I have to watch as they develop a relationship this week?

I can see it now. Knox, making her laugh the way he used to make me laugh.

Ava, looking at him the way she looked at me when she taught me to touch myself, pure heat and fire.

The two of them kissing, hands roaming everywhere, clothes coming off, hot skin against hot skin, and?—

“Em, I didn’t mean for it to happen.” Ava’s hand comes to my shoulder. I turn slowly. She’s standing now, and in her heels she’s tall enough that my face is just a little above her perfect breasts, right at the level of her neck. Where Knox will probably bite her.

“It was instinct,” she whispers with a wince. “Biology. Nothing more.”

“It’s okay if you want it to be something more.

” I tug on the top of my dress, but that makes the hem ride up my ass, so I yank on it, which makes the top slip down and expose more of what little cleavage I have.

I feel naked, vulnerable. “It’s fine. I get it.

Knox is hot, and he’s got that bad boy thing going on.

Sure, he’s technically a criminal, but he’s got a good heart, and I know he was trying to help omegas—like you—and I don’t have any claim on him.

I was, like, sixteen when we dated. He’s an alpha, and I’m?—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re just a beta.” She steps forward, backing me against the mirror. “You’re bright and beautiful. Like… like… sunshine.” She says the last word like a breathy sigh of realization. “Yeah, you’re sunshine, Emily. And we all gravitate around you.”

It’s too similar to how Knox described me. But packs don’t gravitate around betas. They gravitate around omegas. Like Ava. Not that we’re a pack. We’re friends who barely know each other. We’ll part ways as soon as this ship lands and probably never be in the same room together ever again.

My heart pinches tight. If only they knew how quickly my thoughts turn into black holes, how dark my fears really are. They wouldn’t think I’m sunshine then. I lift my chin, something defiant swimming in my gut. “What if I don’t want to be sunshine?”

Ava narrows her eyes. “What do you want to be?”

“I don’t know.” I look behind her into the mirror. “But I know I’m not as sunny as everyone thinks I am. Most of the time, I’m really… scared.”

“Are you scared right now?”

My breath feels shallow and shaky, anxiety and arousal swirling together as heat coils low in my belly. Every glance from Ava sparks along my nerves like static. She’s so close I can taste the blackberry scent of her on my tongue. I’ve always loved blackberries.

“Is everything okay in there?” Knox’s voice comes from right outside. “Fuck, Ava,” he says, lower, like he’s leaning right against the curtain. “Your scent…”

She’s perfuming. Shoot.

Her eyes widen in panic, and she shakes her head like she’s trying to clear it.

“It’s okay.” I stroke both hands down her bare arms in what I hope is a calming gesture. “Knox, get in here.”

“That’s not going to help,” Ava hisses.

Knox is already pulling back the curtain, crowding into the small space.

“Scent mark her,” I say.

He looks shell shocked at my suggestion. They both do.

“Definitely not going to help.” Ava glares.

“It’ll cover your scent until we can get you some scent neutralizers.”

Knox looks at me, and I suddenly realize I’m still in the skimpy little cocktail dress. His dark gaze roams from me to Ava, lips pinched tight, fist clenched.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks Ava.

She gives a resigned sigh. “It’s better than running into Declan before I get the neutralizers and having him figure it out.”

“Would it be so bad if he did?” I ask, slightly afraid of her answer.

“Yes!” Ava nearly yells. “If he finds out, I can never participate in another Olympics again, not to mention?—”

She cuts herself off, leaving me curious what she was going to say.

“And what happens if we can’t get the suppressants and you go into heat?” Knox asks, taking a step closer.

Ava grabs my hand and squeezes. She’s shaking.

“You need a backup plan, sweetheart,” he adds. “This isn’t going away. It’s only getting worse. You’re gonna perfume more and more until you’re in full heat, sending out that delicious scent like an invitation for every alpha on this ship to feast.”

“What do you expect her to do, Knox?” I push against his chest with the hand Ava isn’t clutching. But his solid frame doesn’t move. “It’s not like she can control it. We’re gonna get those suppressants. It’s our only option.”

His throat bobs as he swallows, pupils fully blown, but his expression softens, and he takes a step back. “I’ll help. We’ll get those pills.”

He’s right, though. We need a backup plan if we can’t get them. I tug on Ava’s hand, turning her toward me. “Ava, what do you want to do if we can’t get them?”

“Can’t we burn that bridge if we come to it?”

“No,” Knox growls at the same time as I whisper the same answer.

“I can help you through it, if you want,” Knox says, taking her free hand, but glancing at me as if he’s waiting for me to answer as much as he’s waiting for her.

I blink, surprised by the flicker of curiosity more than anything else. Knox and Ava. Together. Like that . It should feel… wrong? A few seconds ago it was sending me into a panic, but now, seeing them together, it doesn’t. If anything, the idea settles into my mind like a really sexy puzzle piece.

“I… um…” She looks at me, and I give her a reassuring nod. I don’t know how we’ll keep her secret from Declan if she goes into heat, but I want her to be taken care of. I don’t want her to be in pain.

“Okay,” she whispers.

Before I can stop myself, I’m imagining it.

Ava in heat, begging for a knot. Knox’s knot.

I remember the way that knot rubbed against my clit when we had sex, the way it swelled before he came.

The soft feel of his lips on mine as he filled me.

He’d make Ava feel so good. I want that for her. I want her to feel good.

Could I help her feel good? My thoughts drift to sweaty places.

Touching the curve of her waist, the slick heat of skin pressed together, breath hitching as our bodies inch closer in that anticipatory silence right before that sigh of pleasure.

How would it feel to have my lips trail slow kisses along her collarbone, to make her melt, to taste her?

I jerk myself from the sexy daydream. This dressing room is much too small for thoughts like that.

Knox scent marks Ava, rubbing his cheek against hers.

The whole dressing room smells of him now, overpowering her richness.

Knox’s leather scent rides in on the edge of danger—raw and rugged like a worn-in biker jacket, with hints of smoke that whisper stories of late-night rides and restless roads.

There’s a wildness to it, sharp and addictive, but beneath the grit, it’s worn and cozy and familiar—like the steady grip of his hand that always keeps you safe, no matter how fast the world spins.

“Thank you,” Ava whispers.

Their eyes meet, and he gives her a brief, tender kiss on the forehead that makes my chest hollow.