Page 1 of Knot Your Business

One

JASPER

“Have so much fun.” Liz practically bounces in front of me, her cello already put away and perched against the wall. “Take tons of photos. Oh my gosh, I’m so excited for you both! I’m sure whoever the Council chooses will be perfect for you!”

Mason laughs, snapping the lid closed on his own cello beside me. “It’s their first one, Liz. Hardly anyone gets matched on their first gala.”

I ignore my friends and work to get my cello put away, double checking the humidifier and my bow’s tension before shutting the case. I cross the room, opening the long term-storage locker offered at a monthly rate by the philharmonic. I’d have rather just taken it home, but the flight schedule worked out to be too tight to make a trip out to the estate and then back to Van Nuys. LA traffic downright sucks on Fridays, even worse than normal. Rylan moves by me, stashing his double bass in the same storage locker, his arm brushing mine.

Butterflies twist in my stomach, and a smile plays across my lips before I can hold it back. Not that I need to. It’s been over six months since my apartment flooded, forcing me to temporarily move in with him. Six months since we finally figured out how to tell each other we craved the other. I skip over the fact it took his best friend—who was my date at the time—getting into a fist fight with him for it all to come to light. They don’t bring that part up, so neither do I.

Rylan leans into me once the padlock is on the door. Our noses brush, his couple inches of height hardly noticeable when he’s this close to me. His eyes are serious, his narrow jaw more pronounced from the way he clenches his teeth for a heartbeat. A low growl rumbles through him before he forces it to stop, his throat rippling with his swallow.

“You ready?” I ask, keeping my voice light. “Dominic should be here any minute.”

Dominic, his friend and my other lover. Alphas are naturally wired to thrive in group dynamics, with multiple Alphas often being involved with a single central Omega. Our dynamic isn’t as common, since I’m an average Beta and not an Omega, but I’m learning to be more confident about it.

With a single nod, he pulls me into his arms, kissing me without a care in the world that our coworkers are watching. Rylan is like that. From the moment I agreed to see if this could work between us, his hands have been on me. Alphas are like that. They need to touch, to mark, to know that the people around them understand that their partner is theirs.

And, hell, am I Rylan’s.

My breath hitches as he swipes his tongue along my lower lip. My dick presses into his hip, hard and aching already.

“Come on, Rylan,” Liz pouts, breaking the moment, “you’ll get him all weekend. Let us at least say bye to him. He was ours first.”

Rylan sighs and steps away from me. I bite back the groan that wants to rip from me. Fuck, but my friends really know how to cock block.

“You have your pin?” Liz asks the moment I’m turned back toward my friends. “And your tux is ready to go?”

“Liz, he’s 26,” Mason says, voice dry. He clicks his cello case closed and slings it onto his back in one move. “I’m sure he can handle his own outfit just fine. Don’t forget that his boyfriend has a freaking private jet that they’re using to fly into New York tonight. I’m sure they have a whole slew of staff that will make sure they get there in one piece in the proper attire.”

Huntley laughs and nods her agreement. Liz pouts, but the outburst I’m expecting is interrupted by her quick gasp. Before I can turn, she’s sprinting across the room, launching herself into a man’s arms.

Huntley shakes her head. “Eventful weekend all around. Didn’t realize Zach was getting back today.”

Zach is one of four Alphas that Liz matched with last summer at a matching gala nearly identical to the one I’ll be attending tomorrow night. He’s been on deployment for the last six months, leaving just before Halloween. Liz was a mess over the holidays despite the other Alphas of her pack—and us—doing their best to keep her spirits up.

“And then there were two, Mason,” Huntley says with a sigh.

Mason shrugs. “You could always call Jonas and see if he wants to go out.”

I shake my head and sidestep between them. “Don’t egg her on right now, Mason. Please. She just settled down over all of that.”

Huntley and one of Rylan’s recording buddies have been an on-again, off-again duo since the new year. Currently, they’re off, and Huntley hasn’t been handling it the best. She catches my gaze and shakes her head once, rolling her lips into a thin line.

Hint taken.

“You want a ride home?” I ask her, forcing the conversation away from Jonas and whoever else might be occupying her time recently.

She waves me off. “I’m fine. The walks are faster now that I’m not waiting for you to drag that thing behind you.” She winks, and I chuckle. My cello might be larger than her instruments, but I’m no slower for it, and she knows it.

Mason’s sharp intake of breath is my only warning before there’s a hand on my waist, and I’m being spun around. Dominic’s as breathtaking as ever, his brown eyes shining in the artificial yellow light of the room. He’s dressed in his signature black-on-black slacks and button-up, though the first two buttons are undone, showing a triangle of skin just below his collarbones.

“Hey, Dom, hope you have a good weekend,” Huntley says as she passes by us, grabbing her bag before putting her instruments on opposite shoulders.

None of my friends react to his sudden arrival. Technically, this room isn’t supposed to be accessible to anyone other than bonded Alphas of the Omega musicians. But being directly tied to the Italian mafia has its perks when Dominic wants to use them.

“Grazie,” my lover murmurs, not taking his gaze off mine.

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