Page 119 of Knot Like Other Girls

I pull my phone from my pocket, noticing with a flutter of anxiety that I have seventeen unread texts. All from Skye.

"That's... a lot of messages," Cole says, raising his eyebrow, his gaze fixed on my screen from his position across the aisle.

"Skye," I explain, a smile spreading across my face as I scroll through the increasingly dramatic texts.

[BELLA. It's been TWO HOURS. Are you alive????]

[If you've been kidnapped by five hot alphas, at least send an emoji so I know you're okay.]

[I swear to god if you don't answer me I'm going to assume you're dead and I'm coming after those bodyguards with a scalpel.]

[For real though, everything okay?]

Her last text came in just five minutes ago.

[I know you're on a plane right now (thanks for the location share, at least) but I expect a FULL REPORT when you land or I'm calling the National Guard.]

"Your friend seems passionate," Savva observes, peering discreetly at my screen.

I laugh. "That's one word for her." I quickly tap out a response.

[I'm alive! On the plane now. Will call when we land. Stop planning my funeral.]

The reply is almost instantaneous.

[THANK GOD. Hope you get so much alpha dick you can't walk for a month and Brax can't make you go to that stupid fucking gala.]

I can't help but laugh again.

"Must be quite the conversation," Roman comments, his golden eyes watching me with warm curiosity.

"She's threatening to call in the National Guard if I don't give her hourly updates," I explain, holding up my phone. "Skye's a little... protective."

"Good." Liam nods approvingly. "The more people we have watching out for you, the better."

I type out another message to Skye.

[I promise I'm fine. Better than fine. Will give you details later when I have privacy.]

Her response pops up instantly.

[PRIVACY?? From what? Or WHOM? Bella Emerson, are you having wild sex with a pack of alphas on a PLANE???]

My cheeks flame instantly, and I slap my phone screen-down against my thigh, too late realizing that at least three alphas probably saw it.

"Everything okay?" Cole asks, his voice gruff but concern evident in the way his brow furrows.

"Fine," I squeak, then clear my throat. "Just Skye being Skye."

Troy emerges from the cockpit again, carrying a tray of what looks like pastries. "Snack time!" he announces cheerfully. "We've got about two hours before we land, and nobody should fly on an empty stomach."

"You've already fed me breakfast," I protest weakly.

"That was hours ago," Troy says, like I've said something ridiculous. "And airplane altitude increases metabolism. It's science."

"That is absolutely not science," Savva replies, but he takes a croissant anyway.

"How did you even get these?" I ask, accepting a chocolate-filled pastry that looks freshly baked.

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