Page 159 of Knot Like Other Girls

"As long as we get something other than cookies," I say dryly.

Liam laughs at that.

And Cole actually smiles.

"Perfect," Bella says, settling against all of us with a contented sigh.

The only problem with dinner in the nest is it means one of us is going to have to get up and go to the door to get it.

And that someone is certainly not going to be me.

In fact, I want this to never end.

CHAPTER 43

LIAM

The nest feels just right.

Fucking perfect, if I'm honest.

I stretch my legs, careful not to disturb the elaborate layout of blankets and pillows surrounding us. The way our omega has woven these fabrics reminds me of something ancient. Something encoded into the DNA of alphas, betas, and omegas long before modern civilization interfered.

"Stop moving around," Roman mutters from near the center of our den.

"I'm not moving around," I shoot back, moving a little extra just for him. "I'm getting comfortable."

Savva blows a puff of air through his nose, giving me an amused look that says he doesn't believe me for a second. The energy buzzing through my system isn't something I can easily hide from alphas who know me so well.

Cole remains silent, but his arm tightens around Bella's waist. She's nestled against him like she belongs there, and she does.

We all do.

We belong here, with her, in her nest.

The little invisible demon of anxiety that sits on my shoulder screeches in my ear that we don't even know yet if she's going to choose us permanently once we get her through her heat. But I feel deep down in my heart that she's going into.

I glance at her and she smiles at me, warm and sweet even though she's half asleep.

Yeah. Just a hunch.

"Where the fuck is Troy with the food?" I mutter, not just because I'm starving, but because the stillness makes me too aware of my own thoughts. And my thoughts right now are dangerous territory.

"He left two minutes ago," Roman says, checking his watch. "Should be here any time now, unless the delivery driver got lost."

"They didn't," Savva says dryly, looking back down at his phone. I can tell he's watching everything from his damn drone app. The way his fingers move on the screen is obvious enough.

The front door slams, followed by Troy's distinctive heavy footsteps. "Food's here!" he calls out.

"In here," Roman answers, though it's hardly necessary.

He knows where we are. Where we'll be spending the night, if our scent match will have us.

Troy appears in the doorway a moment later, his arms full of takeout bags. His blond hair is windblown, and he's grinning like he's pulled off some masterful heist instead of ordering from every restaurant in Sweetwater.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announces with unnecessary grandeur, "dinner is served."

"About bloody time. And there's only one lady," I grumble, though there's no heat behind it.

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