Page 31 of Knot Going Down

“Hey, it’s okay,” Emily soothes, pulling me so close I can pick up every note of her light amaretto scent. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m an expert at this kind of thing. Just breathe with me, okay?”

She takes a deep inhale, and I clock the exact moment she knows my secret. Her body stiffens, a small gasp leaves her lips. But she softens immediately, tightening her hold on me, rubbing my back. “Oh, Ava.”

Gunner wedges himself between us like he belongs there, letting out a satisfied grunt as he settles in. He rests his heavy head on my thigh with a dramatic sigh. His warmth is steady, and grounding, and almost as comforting as Emily’s.

For the first time in a very long time, I don’t feel so alone.

Emily lets me cry for what seems like a long time. My muscles are stiff, and now I really have a headache. Emily’s got to be uncomfortable. Her legs are probably asleep from how I’m half in her lap, but she doesn’t complain.

“I need to find the suppressants,” I whisper.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Emily sighs and repositions herself, scooting closer to Declan’s bag. “So, did you already look through here?”

“Sort of, but not thoroughly.” I kneel next to her.

Together, we make short work of looking through each little travel organizer. The only semi-interesting things we find are Declan’s neurotically folded socks and three old, well-loved cookbooks—titles in French, spines cracked, pages marked with penciled-in notes and little splatters of sauce. He must’ve picked them up in Paris. Definitely didn’t have him pegged as the used cookbook type. I tuck them carefully back at the bottom of his bag, a little more curious than before.

“No, this one was on top of that one,” I say as we carefully try to keep our snooping from being discovered.

“What do we do now? The pills clearly aren’t here.” Emily leans against the back of the couch. “Do we even know he has them? We need a plan.”

“You’ll help me?”

“Of course.” Emily smiles. “We’re besties. Remember?”

Right, besties. That conversation in our Olympic Village apartment seems like ages ago.

Something in my gut aches, a tug in my chest that has me turning to study Emily. She’s so kind, so beautiful. She stares back at me, and I know I’m making too much eye contact, but I can’t look away. Surprisingly, Emily doesn’t seem alarmed by it.

She sets her hand on top of mine and gives it a squeeze. “So, omega, huh?”

There’s something sad in her smile that makes me want to pull her in for a hug.

“I didn’t want this. Idon’twant this.”

“We don’t always get what we want.” Again, that sad smile.

“What is ityouwant?” I turn her hand over and lace our fingers. She doesn’t pull away.

“I… um… what do you mean?”

“Seems to me you have three men drooling over you,” I say, half an answer.

“Not Knox.” She looks down at our hands.

I tilt my head, studying her. “Is that what you want? Knox to be into you?”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head adamantly. “I don’t date unbonded alphas.”

“Right.” I raise an eyebrow at her.

“Declan and I aren’t dating. We’re having fun. On vacation.”

I nod, but I’m sure she can see my skepticism. I shift my gaze away from her to the strands of dog hair littering my shorts. “And what about omegas?”

“What about them?”

“Do you date unbonded omegas?” I hold my breath as I wait for her answer.