Page 131 of Knot Like Other Girls

The simple words seem to affect her more than our elaborate explanations. Her cheeks flush adorably, and she nods, surrendering the dishes to me with a small smile that hits like a punch to the solar plexus.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…

I'm in deep here.

Roman glances at the clock on the wall. "It's getting late," he says, his deep voice cutting through the clatter of cleanup. "We should finish up."

We all know what he means, though no one says it. Even Troy, who never shuts his gob, suddenly finds the drying of a serving bowl absolutely fascinating.

Bella breaks the tension, brave little thing that she is. "So," she says, looking around at all of us, "how exactly are we going to... arrange ourselves? In the bed, I mean."

"Roman's got a California king," Troy volunteers, finding his voice. "Biggest damn bed I've ever seen."

"You've been in Roman's bed?" I can't help but needle him, grateful for the tension breaker.

Troy's grin is unrepentant. "Of course. Had to know if he got himself the best mattress, too, or if it's just the best room in the house."

Roman's exasperated sigh is so familiar it nearly makes me smile. "The bed is large enough," he says, ignoring Troy's remark. "Bella can take the center."

"Naturally," Savva agrees, his elegant hands folding the last dishcloth so fast it's practically magic. "With the rest of us arranged around her."

"I'll take the floor," Cole says in his usual flat tone.

"No," Bella's voice is soft but firm. "I want all of you. In the bed. That's the whole point."

Cole's jaw works, but he doesn't argue further. Something passes between him and Bella, some understanding that makes me wonder what exactly happened between them besides the obvious physical connection and knotting. There's a gentleness in the way he looks at her that I've never seen from him before.

"Well then," Roman says, drying his hands on a towel, "shall we?"

The walk to Roman's bedroom feels like the longest march of my life, and I've done quite a few of those in terrain a hell of a lot more hostile than this cozy cabin. My pulse hammers in my throat like a fucking bird.

Get a grip, Rourke. It's just sleeping.

But it's not, is it?

It's intimacy. Vulnerability. Trust.

Things we've all forgotten how to do properly outside of combat situations.

Roman's bedroom is exactly what you'd expect from our stoic leader. Everything in its proper place. The massive four-poster bed dominates the room, dark wood gleaming in the lamplight. It's big, but it suddenly looks a lot smaller when I think about fitting five huge alphas into it along with Bella.

"Um," Bella says, standing in the middle of the room, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. "Should I... change first?"

"Good idea," Savva says smoothly. "We'll give you privacy. The bathroom is through there." He points to a door on the far wall. "We'll change out here."

"Here's your luggage," says Cole, materializing with the suitcase hanging from his hand like it weighs nothing. Although to him, it probably doesn't. Same with all of us, really.

She nods gratefully, disappearing into the bathroom with it.

The moment the door closes, we all exhale like we've been holding our breath.

"This is going to be a fucking disaster," Troy mutters, running a hand through his blond hair.

"It will be fine," Roman says firmly, already pulling fresh t-shirts and sleep pants from a drawer. He tosses clothing to each of us. "We'll make it work because it's what she needs."

I catch the bundle of clothing, glad he's being so practical. Of course he has sleep clothes for all of us. Does the man think of everything?

"Cole," Roman says, his voice slightly softer. "Are you alright with this?"

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