Page 71 of Knot Only His

“Like what?”

“You.” The word comes out as a murmur. “Ever since Carver...”

“Since his knot?” Kai’s eyes darken.

I nod, heat creeping up my neck. “Everything’s different now. People keep saying I’m an omega, but it used to just be a joke because everyone used to say I was ‘too pretty’ and 'too mild' to be an alpha. Then my sister Grace presented late, and now with Carver...”

“Your body’s awakening.” His voice is soft, certain. “You can feel it, can’t you?”

I press my hand to my chest, where that constant ache lives now. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Everything.” I meet his gaze. “The way I feel. These scents. How much I want...”

“Want what?”

“To belong.”

“We’re both hurting. Both confused.” Kai’s fingers brush against mine. “That’s what makes us understand each other.”

“I suppose that’s a start.” I lean back against the headrest, processing his words.

A blur of motion catches my eye.

Jagger bursts through the front door, his little legs pumping as he races down the path and to his uncle.

Behind him, Asher jogs out shirtless, his gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Sweat glistens on his chest, highlighting his defined muscles and the deep V that disappears below his waistband.

Wetness pools between my thighs, causing a scent so sharp and immediate, I’m taken aback.

Kai’s nostrils flare. “You need to be careful.”

I bite my lip and nod, mortified that he can smell my reaction.

How the hell am I going to cope in their home?

Oliver emerges next, wearing only basketball shorts. His tattoos wind up his torso in intricate patterns that remind me of Carver’s. The similarity makes my chest ache and I glance away before anyone notices.

“I hope you two are planning to cover up before the social worker arrives,” Kai calls through the window.

Oliver laughs, opening my door as he lowers and gives Kai the middle finger.

“Hey, Jagger’s around,” I tell him.

Oliver laughs and extends his hand to help me out.

When I take it, he pulls me close and presses a soft kiss on my cheek. Our eyes lock, just like they did that day in New York, and again at the stadium.

“Thank you for this,” he murmurs against my skin.

“Oliver.” His name comes out breathier than I intend it to sound.

“Give her to me,” Asher says.

“You’ve touched her more than anyone,” Oliver says, keeping tight hold of my hand and walking me to the house as Jagger runs up to me.

“Harlow!” Jagger crashes into my legs, wrapping his arms around my thighs. “I helped Asher and Oliver work out.”

---