Page 26 of Knot Your Business

“Good evening, Ms. Fallon,” the man says, ripping me from my quiet perusal of the men. When I confirm I have no additional questions, he says, “This call automatically ends in an hour. Don’t panic when it cuts out. I’d start with exchanging numbers or socials or whatever other way you prefer to communicate.”

I murmur a soft agreement, noticing that the men are silent. His box disappears off the screen a moment later, leaving only the three men I’ve matched with.

Pack Montegue.

Dominic stands up, his scowl still firmly in place. Jasper twists toward him, stopping him with a hand on his thigh. My chest tightens at the simple intimacy of the movement, at the way Dominic’s gaze softens for a heartbeat of time, the way Jasper leans into him. I glance away as they kiss, that blade twisting in my chest until I feel like I can’t breathe.

No wonder he left me. I’m the literal opposite of Dominic. Well, except maybe in personality. He’s as much a black cat as I am from what I can tell. But I’m Omega, not Alpha. I crave comfort and routine and safety. I need touch and smells and a place I can create as my own without restrictions. Alphas don’t. They’re possessive and territorial, needing to stake their claim and mark their people as their own.

Rylan leans forward, ignoring the other two men. “What’s your number, Violet?”

Right. We’re supposed to actually be productive with this thing. Asking for my number is good. Normal. I rattle it off, and he’s quick to send me a single text, only his name and a winking emoji. I save the number and then put my phone away, leaning forward and crossing my arms, trying to keep my fidgeting from being noticeable.

By the time I’m resettled, Dominic is gone, and Jasper is looking at me like he’s attending someone’s funeral. Is it so awful that we’re matched that he feels like something has died? I force a swallow, trying to move the lump lodged there.

Fuck me. I’m better than this, right? I can face down a call with these men. I can handle it. I promised myself I would give myself the weekend. If everything is still fucked after the weekend, then…

I cut the thought off, already feeling the frustrated tears springing to life. I blink to clear them, hoping they’re not obvious on the video call. Rylan moves a paper around, pulling something that looks like it might have come from the Council’s packet of information and looking it over.

“You go to UCLA?” he asks, glancing up at me.

Jasper’s still looking at me. It feels like that somber, tired gaze sees right through me to the scared girl I feel at the moment. In another life, he was that person. He saw the scared girl and, for a time, helped me believe I could be more than that, could coax her into becoming something other than what society demanded of my designation.

And then he was gone.

I clear my throat and focus on Rylan, trying to keep myself together. Only an hour. I only had to make it an hour, and then I could cry again.

“Yeah,” I say, picking at my fishnets. “I’ll be graduating next weekend.”

“That’s fantastic,” Rylan says, setting down the paper, dropping his hand to Jasper’s thigh. Jasper visibly relaxes under the touch, and the knife in my chest twists again. “Send us the information for the ceremony. We’ll make sure to be there.”

Jasper stiffens but doesn’t say anything, and Rylan runs his hand down Jasper’s thigh, soothing him so instinctually it fucking hurts. Every single instinct in me wants to beg him for his address and pay whatever hellacious rideshare fee so that he can comfort me, too.

God, I’m a mess this week. And I can’t even blame it on my heat coming soon.

Jasper clears his throat, and Rylan takes a deep breath. “I need to go run through some pieces before dress rehearsal tomorrow.”

Rylan’s mouth twists before his expression smooths out. He nods, drawing Jasper to him and kissing him, too. It’s different than with Dominic, but the intimacy is the same. It’s something my parents have never had, that I’ve only ever seen in groups around me on campus or in movies. Never in my own life. Not since Jasper.

I clear my throat.

“You don’t need to stay on for the full hour,” I say as Rylan focuses back on me, Jasper’s retreating form disappearing from the frame.

“I know,” he says. He grabs that piece of paper again. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in school. What’s your major?”

“Biomedics.” His eyebrow ticks up. I offer up the explanation before he can ask. “I declared my second semester Freshman year. I wasn’t planning on matching then. I’d planned on going into research around Omega designations.”

“Specifically Omega? Or Alphas as well?”

I scrunch my nose. “Definitely not Alphas. They’re overbearing to start with. Asking them to consent to research performed by an Omega? Half of them would laugh me out of the room.”

“That’s a shame,” Rylan says, his voice dropping, gaining a rough edge.

My breath catches in my throat, and my scent strengthens around me. I clear my throat to keep my reaction from being quite so obvious. I don’t rush to fill the silence, not really sure what to ask him or offer up about myself. I’ve never tried to backtrack a one-night stand into a relationship, much less an Alpha that knotted me through my heat. Desire flashes across my skin, and I can feel my chest heat with it.

“I imagine these are helpful when all of this is long distance,” Rylan says after a few minutes. He scratches at the snake tattoo on his neck. “But they drive me up the wall. How about I come grab you after dress rehearsal tomorrow morning?”

A seed of hope blooms in my chest, swelling almost too fast for me to tamp down. “All right,” I offer, keeping my voice calm. “I can send you my address.”

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