Page 90 of Hard Knot

Right. Haven’t dove into the whole marking phase just yet.

Besides, it’s too soon for that. Markings are permanent, though you can get rid of them. Even if they’re a pain in the ass, worse than tattoo removal. Either way, we barely know each other to be talking about spending the rest of our lives together.

Carter's laugh is low and without humor.

"You offering to check?"

"Carter," I murmured, placing my hand over his where it rests on my stomach. I can feel the tension thrumming through him, like a tightly coiled spring ready to release.

James's eyes track the movement, his jaw tightening.

"Still dancing, Eli?" he asks, deliberately using the nickname that makes Carter's grip tighten further. "We made quite the pair back at Harvard. Maybe we could pick up where we left off."

Shit…

The offer I dare admit is tempting. Doing solos has been my choice for the auditions because no one wants to dance with a Forgotten Omega.

It’s bad luck…apparently.

Yet, James and I always had chemistry. The way we moved on the stage, no matter our rivaling flaws, never ceased to captivate a crowd, even if they knew our ongoing envy towards one another.

"The only place you'll be picking anything up," Carter growls, "is the emergency room if you don't back off."

"Carter!" I snap, but there's no real heat in it. Part of me — a part I'm not proud of — thrills at his possessiveness. To be fought for is such a turn-on for me when I read it in books or watch it in movies, but to physically experience it, is a whole other level of triggered lust.

James takes a deliberate step forward, entering Carter's space.

They're almost the same height, both radiating Alpha energy that makes the air feel thick and charged. I’m the middle person, yet I can’t do anything but dart my gaze between the two, noticing how charged the air is; like electric currents can spark into reality at any moment.

"You know," James says conversationally, though his eyes are hard, "Eli and I have history. Years of partnership, trust,chemistry." His lips curl into a challenging smile. "Things you can't build in what, a few days?"

"So?" Carter emphasizes smoothly. "You'd be amazed what you can build in a short time with the right person. I’ll admit, we only just met, but when you meet the right Omega, sparks can fly in a heartbeat." His mouth brushes my ear as he adds, "Right, Abbie?"

The deliberate use of the new nickname — his nickname for me that I warned he’d have to ‘earn’ to use,which…he kind of did— makes James's expression darken.

"Abbie?" he scoffs. "She hates nicknames."

"No," I find myself saying, "I hated being called names that were intentionally made to bully me. Like Lizzy from that stupid show. Abbie..." I pause, realizing the truth as I say it, "Abbie feels more sentimental."

Something flashes in James's eyes —hurt maybe— or recognition that things have changed more than he realized. He recovers just as quickly, but I do dislike that it has to come down to this.

That I have to hurt him so he’s not pulled into a mess that may get him hurt.

"We were good together," he says softly, his tone shifting to something more vulnerable. "Before everything went wrong…before you disappeared...we had plans, Eli. Dreams."

Fuck…

If only I could tell him the truth.

How despite the need to run away, I had been tempted so many times to reach out to him. How I wrote letters that were a postbox away from sending, and yet I couldn’t gather that final push to reach out to him.

To tell him I was okay.

That I was safe.

That I was tainted and ruined…but not fully broken.

That…the girl he loved died that day…

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