Page 50 of Knot All is Forgiven

Does she fit like that with me? I think, at one point, she did. But what about now?

Emotion chokes my throat, and I turn away from my packmates in shame.

What the fuck did I do?

I can't sleep.

I've been lying here in bed, staring at the ceiling in this room that is not mine but is slowly becoming such, spiraling out of control about all of the ways I've fucked up.

I no longer believe that when Jordan scents us, she'll forgive us. Simon blew that theory out of the water. And as much as I know I messed up, I really did think I was doing the right thing.

After going over the interaction with this other Alpha in detail, Simon finally told us everything. About how he'd been tracking Jordan, the gifts he was sending, and every detail he'd gleaned about her life, including how she'd been hiding from us.

I've got her company website up on my phone, and I've read her bio over and over, willing it to give me something that can help me bridge the gap between us.

But of course, it doesn't. These are just words on the internet describing an executive who works diligently to make her clients' products successful.

Her email address is right there, taunting me. I've been trying to talk myself out of it for hours, but my lack of sleep has me feeling reckless.

Jordan,

I hope this email finds -

I immediately trash the draft. I can't speak to her like one of her clients. It can't be impersonal. It has to be from the heart, right? I have to show her I messed up.

Jay,

It's been ages. I'm not saying that's your fault. I know it's mine. But the phone does go -

Fuck.

Why is this so hard? It shouldn't be this hard to tell someone I fucked up, and I want to talk to them and smell them and bite them and -

Okay. I see where I may be going wrong here.

Jay,

I fucked up.

Come tell me just how much.

-Cyrus

Before I can second guess myself, I hit send.

But what if she doesn't respond? What if she leaves me on read?

An idea smacks me in the face, and I dial Ronda.

"Stargazer, it's five in the morning,"she says, not sounding tired at all."What's so important you couldn't wait until after my morning coffee?"

Ronda has been my agent for a decade, way back when I was still on the ice. She's been with me through my injury andthe relaunch of my career as a sports broadcaster. I trust her implicitly.

Even with this.

"Ronda, I need a favor."

"You always need a favor."

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