Page 7 of Knotty Nights
Nope.
Arya’s dark eyes stared back at me, shy and sheepish and so fucking cute…
Maybe I should trust the algorithm more often.
A knock on the bedroom door reminded me that I wasn’t alone.
“Mom?” Rosie’s voice echoed from the hallway. “You in there?”
I slipped the phone under the blanket and called for her to come in.
“How are you feeling?” I asked as she fell onto the empty space next to me with a groan.
“Great, just great,” she murmured into a fox-shaped pillow, her loose curls tumbling around her puffy cheeks. “I’m going to die alone.”
I’d raised a drama queen.
“Your life isn’t over just because you got dumped by some shithead Alpha,” I chided, trying not to shake some sense into my kid. Rosie was on day five of a breakup—well, could itreallybe called a breakup if they hadn’t made a commitment to each other?
“It feels like it,” she sighed gustily. “Everyone else I know is happily coupled up. When you were my age, you were already pregnant with me.”
I snorted. “That isn’t the happy story you seem to think it is.”
She sat up quickly. “You weren’t happy to be pregnant with me?”
“Of course I was,” I assured her. “But you know you weren’t planned, right? Your Momma and I had a little accident.”
“That makes me feel wonderful, Mom. I’m nothing but a little accident.”
I couldn’t stop the eye roll this time. With a sigh, I pulled her closer and placed my cheek against hers, marking her with my scent.
“You are the best thing in my life, Rosie, but having you at twenty was a bit of a struggle. I never got to finish college.”
“Momma did though.”
“I wanted her to,” I insisted. “One of us needed to have a degree-level job if we were gonna raise a child.”
She was quiet for a moment, although I could see the gears turning in her head.
“How did you know?” she began softly, her breath tickling my shoulder. “That Momma was the one?”
It was probably cruel to tell my daughter that I didn’t believe in The One—capital T, capital O. After the blindsiding divorce, the very idea of a mate seemed silly.
It was easier to exist alone—at least this wayIwas responsible for how my day went. Someone else’s mood and behavior didn’t have any bearing on my life…
Well, except for Rosie’s.
“I don’t think there was one particular moment,” I told her. “I only knew your Momma made me happy.”
Until she didn’t.
Rosie pressed closer and took a deep breath, scenting the air.
“Your Heat is close,” she said, tucking strands of my curls behind my ears. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Of course,” I assured her. “This is an induced Heat, baby. The doctor said it would be mild.”
Rosie grimaced. “I never believe doctors when they say something ismild.”