Page 10 of Knotty Nights

There was a soft thud upstairs, followed by footsteps that made the floorboards creak. I glanced toward the rickety wooden staircase in the corner just as her feet appeared on the top step. They were bare against the dark wood—the toes were painted a deep red.

Each step made the plush robe she wore shift around her legs. It was a soft, wine-red thing that looked like it had been washed and loved a hundred times before. The fabric brushed her shapely calves and was tied in a loose knot at her waist like she’d done it one-handed while absently thinking about something else.

The world around me dialed the volume down as her arms came into view, then her shoulders. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head—a tumble of curls pinned up high. A few strands had escaped, curling around her neck and brushing her cheeks.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

I had never laid eyes on an omega more out of my league than this one.

She had soft, glowy cheeks like vintage actresses in a black and white movie. With her hair curling around her face, she looked like she’d just stepped out of a steaming bath.

“Jazmine?” I asked, willing the stutter away with every ounce of willpower I possessed.

She paused a few steps away from the bottom of the stairs, eyeing me across the room.

I didn’t smell her at first. The cottage had several warm scents like cinnamon and woodsmoke that bled out onto the porch, but when she stood just a few feet away, it hit me like a match to a room full of petrol.

Omega—sweet and heady like airborne honey.

My lungs pulled it in before I could think, and for a second, I forgot every decent thing I’d ever learned about control. Rational thought frayed at the edges as I pictured running my fingers through her mess of curls and tilting her head back to bare her scent gland.

My head spun with wild thoughts, but I forced myself to be still and deny what my body wanted. She was a stranger, for god’s sake.

But… could a person’s scent be described ascreamy? Because that’s what it felt like. Under it all was the primal-soft note of skin and the thrum of an omega nesting in her own den.

I didn’t miss the little spark of friction lingering in the air, the only clue that gave away her impending Heat.

“Oh, hello,” Jazmine said, a burst of red tinting her dark cheeks. “You’re early.”

Rosie’s gaze ping-ponged between us, her eyes wide.

“You mean…” Rosie said, pinning her mother with a look. “You have adate?You have a date and you didn’t tell me?!”

Before her mother could reply, she continued at a rapid-fire cadence: “Is that why you said I couldn’t stay for the weekend? You could’ve just told me the truth!”

She whirled around to face me again.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We, uh,” I paused, swallowing the stammer that was pushing to the surface. “M-maybe I should let Jazmine tell the story.”

“And I will,” she said, stepping down and taking her daughter by the shoulders. “When I see you next weekend.”

I stepped aside before Rosie could walk right into me.

Behind us, I heard the crunch of gravel as a black car pulled up the driveway.

“Your Uber’s waiting,” Jazmine said with a brow raised pointedly. “Text me when you get back to your dorm, okay?”

Rosie didn’t seem too happy to leave her mother with me. Her glare proved it.

“I promise I’m normal,” I said aloud, then regretted the words immediately. Normal people didn’t go around proudly proclaiming they were normal!

Fuck. My. Life.

I adjusted the glasses on my nose and cleared my throat pointedly.

Jazmine offered me a small smile.