Page 67 of Knot Going Down

Maybe it’s that smile. Maybe it’s the way he says my last name, or the stifled groan that slips past his lips, but I can’t help the little breathy whimper that slips out.

I turn toward Ava, thinking she might be a distraction from these men, which is a wildly bad idea, given the train of my thoughts ten seconds ago. Her eyes are already on me. Pupils dilated. Her nipples are stiff peaks against the silk of her gown, and the wetness between my thighs makes me clench my core.

I hold her gaze. And lick my lips.

“What are you thinking about?” There’s something almost fragile in her voice.

“You,” I whisper before I can second guess myself.

And everything changes.

Ava’s scent hits us like a wave.

It crashes over me first—not just a hint of it, but the full force. Creamy and rich with a sharp, unexpectedly hot twist. Crumbly graham cracker and blackberries, ripe from the vine, plump and juicy with seeds that get stuck in your teeth. The scent screamsomega.

Lucas inhales sharply, the sound too loud in the enclosed space. His eyes go wide with realization. Knox’s whole body goes rigid beside me. His fists clench, jaw twitching. His eyes darken, and for a moment, he looks entirely, dangerously alpha.

And now, Ava’s scent isn’t the only one flooding the space. His mixes with hers, all warm and arousing and intimate.

Ava stumbles back. Her chest heaves like she’s forgotten how to breathe.

The elevator dings. The doors open.

She bolts.

“Ava!” I call, already stepping forward.

Knox surges toward the door, but I lunge, shoving my arm across his chest.

“Stay here,” I say, firmer than I expect.

His eyes flash. That alpha instinct ready to chase. He wants to argue, but I see him check himself. Wrestle biology back into the corner as his more-evolved brain takes control again. He exhales hard and steps back.

“Go,” Lucas murmurs behind me, a hand warm and steady on my back. “She needs you.”

I nod once and take off after Ava, heart hammering, praying I can be what she needs.

33

AVA

I’m perched at the edge of the diving platform, heels dangling from my fingers, when Emily finds me. I knew she was coming before I saw her. The soft rustle of her dress in the night breeze and the faint tap of her heels against the metal ladder gave her away.

“Hey,” she says softly, climbing up to join me. “You okay?”

“Not even close.”

My feet swing absently, silk brushing against my bare calves. We must look ridiculous—two women in formal gowns, sitting on a diving platform like kids at summer camp. I wish the boat had a proper diving board so I could watch Em soar, but probably some insurance liability keeps it regulated to this more solid platform. But still, we’re above the water and further from reality up here. The pool below is nearly deserted, everyone else already filing into the dining room in their glitter and ties. The concrete platform is warm beneath me, dried by the sun, but still, this isn’t where we’re supposed to be, and I’m certain its wrecking the delicate silk of my gown.

A snagged memento of this ruined evening.

“This is my favorite place to think,” Emily says. Her shoulder brushes mine.

I glance at her. “I know.”

Maybe that’s why I ended up here. I wanted to go back to the room, curl into a blanket and let the familiar smells settle me. Some buried, instinctive part of me sought out the comforting scent of my pack—no,not pack. They’re not mine. Not really. I don’t get to claim that.

So I ran here instead. Somewhere high and open and quiet. Somewhere that reminded me ofher.