Page 20 of Knot a Good Idea

I could make it happen. I could be the one to make her feel?—

I stop that pointless train of thought.

“Yes. Because then I wouldn’t be sitting across the table from you,” I reply.

And the worst part about all of this? I mean every word.

This Omega, this café owner, fascinates me.

“Mmhmm.” She swallows and begins to butter another piece of bread. “I still can’t figure you out, though.”

I smirk. “I thought that was the point of the date,” I say, taking a sip of my wine.

A ghost of a smile meets her lips. “True. I’ve just never been asked out like that before. We spoke for less than a minute, and I was kind of a bitch to you.”

I frown. “Don’t call yourself that.”

That’s the last word I would use to describe her.

She shrugs. “I was rude and off-putting.”

“You wererefreshing,” I insist. “There was no pretense. You were just…you. It’s been too long since someone hasn’t bothered to tell me what I want to hear.”

She shakes her head. “Still,” she murmurs. “It’s strange. I have this feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.”

She’s already seeing through my bullshit, and its impressive.

“Such as?”

She narrows her eyes as she searches mine, looking for something in my gaze. She assesses me, her delicate brow furrowed.

Finally, she shakes her head in defeat. “I don’t know. But I’m sure this is the strangest date you’ve been on,” she chuckles humorlessly. “I haven’t been the best company.”

But that’s not true. I could sit and talk to her for hours.

The first course arrives followed by its wine pairing.

“You’ve been excellent company,” I say sincerely. “At the very least, I’m grateful to be talking about somethingotherthan my job.”

“Is that really all you talk about with other people?” she asks between sips of soup. She lets out a contenthumas she swallows, and my cock twitches in my pants.

Beautiful. She’s fuckingbeautiful.

“Mostly,” I admit.

“And it bores you?”

I sigh. “Boring isn’t the right word. It’s just…constant. There’s no escaping it. I’m not complaining, of course,” I say quickly when she raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “But when you surround yourself with people who are involved with the same company you are, conversations can turn…dull.”

“I love my job,” she says softly, staring into her bowl of soup. “And I love the people I work with. It doesn’t bore me.”

Suddenly, I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.

I must sound so out of touch to her, lamenting about how well my company is doing while she’s agonizing over firing her friend.

Prick.I imagine Hunter’s voice in my head.

“That’s admirable,” I murmur.

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