Page 140 of Knot Like Other Girls

"Perfect timing," I say with a smile, reaching for the first mug. "They always wake up like this?"

Cole nods, pouring the dark coffee into each mug in turn. "Troy falls out of bed about three mornings a week. Roman takes at least twenty minutes to become human. Savva's already been awake for an hour, just lying there in his thoughts. And Liam..."

As if on cue, Liam appears in the doorway, his massive frame filling the space. His dark hair is disheveled, the "Memento Mori" tattoo on the side of his head obscured by sleep-mussed strands. He's wearing only a pair of low-slung sweatpants, his tattooed torso bare.

"Coffee," he growls, making it sound like both a plea and a demand.

Cole silently hands him a mug with "too early for this shit" printed on it, and Liam takes it with a nod of thanks. His gray eyes find mine, softening immediately. "Morning, little omega."

The term of endearment makes my stomach flip pleasantly. "Morning, Liam."

He takes a long drink of coffee, then tilts his head, nostrils flaring slightly. His eyes sharpen, focusing on me with sudden intensity. "Your scent's changing."

I nod, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.

Liam exchanges a look with Cole, some silent communication passing between them. Then he moves further into the kitchen, coming to stand near me. Not touching, but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin.

"Still want to go to town?" he asks, his gorgeous accent thicker than usual with the lingering effects of sleep.

"Yeah," I say. "I need those nesting supplies."

Liam nods, taking another sip of his coffee. "Best get a move on then. Once the others are properly caffeinated."

Troy stumbles into the kitchen next, followed closely by an immaculately put-together Savva. Troy's hair is tousled and one eye is still closed, like sleep is a living thing that kicked his ass all night. Savva, in contrast, looks like he could step into a business meeting without changing a thing, dressed in pressed slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

"Coffee," Troy moans, making grabby hands toward the pot. "Feed me, Seymour."

Cole wordlessly passes him the bear mug. Troy takes it, inhales the steam, and makes a sound that borders on indecent.

"Honestly, Troy," Savva says, accepting a plain navy blue mug from Cole with a nod of thanks. "Must you be so dramatic before breakfast?"

"It's not drama, it's appreciation," Troy retorts, taking a long drink. "Some of us actually have emotions, Savva."

Savva raises an eyebrow. "I have emotions. I simply don't feel the need to broadcast them at full volume like a particular golden retriever I could mention."

Troy grins, unrepentant. "Woof."

I can't help the laugh that bubbles up at their banter. Four alphas in a kitchen should feel overwhelming, intimidating even. But instead, it feels... right. Like the final pieces of a picture falling into place.

Roman is the last to join us, entering the kitchen with the careful movements of someone not yet fully awake. His dark hair has been combed, but his golden-hazel eyes are still heavy with sleep. He's wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs, his muscular body on full display in the morning light.

I try not to stare, but it's difficult—Roman De Luca in a state of dishevelment is a sight to behold.

Without a word, Cole hands him the "world's best alpha" mug. Roman takes it, drains half of it in one go, then finally seems to notice the rest of us watching him with varying degrees of amusement.

"What?" he asks, his voice a deep rumble.

"Nothing," Troy says innocently. "Just enjoying the morning show."

Roman narrows his eyes at Troy but doesn't respond. Instead, his gaze finds mine, and I watch as awareness sharpens his features. His nostrils flare subtly, and I know he's caught the change in my scent. The brewing heat.

"Bella," he says, my name carrying a wealth of meaning in his mouth. Question, concern, desire—all wrapped up in the way my name rolls off his tongue.

"I'm fine," I assure him. "Just the early stages. We still have time."

He nods slowly, finishing his coffee. "Breakfast first, then the shop?"

"That's the plan," Cole confirms, filling his own mug. I'd hoped he'd choose that one, which is why I positioned it so it would be the last mug available. It's all black, with two wolves painted on it. One white, one grayish brown, their noses touching so their heads form a heart shape. He catches me watching him, and when I smile at him, he offers a slight smile in return.

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