Page 16 of Knot Your Karma (Not Yours #1)
“That we were pack? Senior year. Though looking back, we were already functioning like pack by sophomore year—Reed mediating between me and Declan when we disagreed about project approaches, Declan making sure we all ate during finals week, me building furniture for our increasingly elaborate shared off-campus house.”
“You lived together?”
“Three-bedroom place near campus. Reed insisted on cooking elaborate Sunday dinners, Declan turned the basement into a workshop, I built custom shelves for Reed’s ridiculous romance book collection and fixed everything that broke.
” Adrian tests the pasta, deems it ready.
“We told ourselves we were just practical roommates who worked well together.”
“And then? ”
“Then graduation was coming up, and we realized we didn’t want to split up.
Started Second Chances Restoration about six months after we graduated, and have been traveling together ever since.
” He begins the delicate process of combining pasta, eggs, and cheese.
“Took us another few years to admit we were basically already functioning as pack.”
“That’s really sweet,” I say, and mean it. There’s something wonderful about the idea that they built their relationship slowly, out of friendship and compatibility rather than just biological attraction.
“What about you? Always been on your own, or...”
“Always been on my own,” I confirm. “My grandmother encouraged my independence. Said I was too smart to settle for someone who didn’t appreciate what I brought to the table.”
“She was right.” Adrian plates the carbonara with careful attention, adding fresh pepper and extra cheese. “Though if I’m reading the situation correctly, that might be changing.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Maybe.”
He sets the plate in front of me, and it smells incredible—rich and comforting and made with the kind of care that makes my chest tight with something I don’t quite know how to name.
“Adrian,” I say as he settles across from me with his own plate.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For this, for coming over, for not being weird about me attacking you in my front yard.”
His smile is soft, genuine. “Thank you for trusting me enough to let me in your kitchen. And for what it’s worth—I think Reed was right about the chemistry.”
I take a bite of pasta to hide my blush, but I can’t hide the way my scent probably just shifted to something warm and pleased. This is definitely the best carbonara I’ve ever had, but more than that, it’s the best I’ve felt in my own kitchen in longer than I can remember.
“Can I ask you something?” he says after we’ve been eating in comfortable silence.
“Sure.”
“The compass Declan’s looking for—professional opinion?”
I reorganize my napkin to keep my hands busy while lying to his face. “Maritime antiques with that kind of provenance usually go through private collectors.”
“Which is why it’s good you know the market. If anyone can track it down, it’s someone with real expertise.”
“Family heirlooms belong with people who understand their significance,” I tell him, then immediately busy myself with another bite of pasta. The irony tastes bitter alongside the rich cream sauce.
“Declan mentioned you’re helping with the search. Means a lot to him. To all of us.”
“It’s what I do. Help people find pieces of their history.”
“Even when it’s complicated?”
Something in his tone makes me look up sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Family situations can be... messy. Blake’s not known for responsible decisions. If he lost something that important...” Adrian shrugs. “Might not be a simple recovery.”
You have no idea how not simple it is.
“Most family situations are complicated,” I say carefully. “But that doesn’t mean the history isn’t worth preserving.”
“True.” Adrian finishes his pasta and sets down his fork. “I should let you get some rest. Long day, and you’ve had enough excitement for one evening.”
“Are you sure? I mean, after I attacked you in my front yard, the least I can do is offer dessert or something.”
“Rain check,” he says, and his smile makes my heart do a little flip. “But I’d like to take you up on that. Maybe when we can have a proper evening together, not just emergency pasta after you’ve been locked out in a storm.”
“I’d like that too,” I say, and mean it more than I probably should.
Adrian heads for the front door, then pauses in the hallway. “Karma?”
“Yeah?”
“Reed was right about the chemistry. In case you were wondering.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I have to grip the doorframe for support. “Was it that obvious?”
“Let’s just say the feeling’s mutual.” He opens the door, and the sound of rain fills the space between us. When he looks back at me one more time, his expression is serious but kind. “And for what it’s worth, I think Declan’s going to like you even more when he gets to know you better.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you see the value in things other people would throw away. You fight for what matters. That’s rare.”
He’s looking at me like I’m someone who preserves history instead of someone who steals it. The admiration in his voice makes me want to confess everything and also run away and hide under my bed until this all goes away.
“I’m not as good a person as you think I am,” I say quietly. The words slip out before I can stop them, weighted with three months of guilt I can’t explain.
“I doubt that.” His storm-gray eyes are serious, kind. “But I guess we’ll find out.”
He leaves me standing in my doorway, watching him walk away through the settling rain.