Page 90 of Knot Like Other Girls

"We should check if those suppressants are working," I mutter, desperate to change the subject before she breaks through any more of my walls. "How are you feeling?"

She allows the diversion, settling back against my chest. "Better. Still warm, but not... burning anymore. Not like before."

"Good." I don't move, though. Don't loosen my hold on her. Not yet. "That's good."

Another silence falls, but it's different now. Comfortable, almost. My thumb moves in small circles on the back of her hand, a gesture so automatic I don't realize I'm doing it until she sighs contentedly.

"I thought you hated me," she says suddenly. "When you first arrived."

The statement is so absurd I almost laugh. "Why? I never hated you."

"You avoided me. Barely spoke to me. Looked at me like I was something dangerous."

Because you are, I think but don't say. Instead, I sigh, my breath stirring her hair. "It wasn't you. I don't... I'm not good with people anymore. Especially not omegas."

"Because of Sarah?"

The name still stings, but less than it used to. "Partly. And partly because people tend to react badly to… this." I gesturevaguely at my face, though she can't see the movement where her face is nuzzling into my neck. "I figured it was easier to keep my distance. Safer."

"Safer for who?"

"Both of us."

She shifts again, turning to face me fully. Her heat scent has faded to something milder, still sweet but not so overwhelming. Her eyes search mine, looking for something I'm not sure I have to give.

"I'm not afraid of you, Cole."

"Maybe you should be." The words come out rough, almost a growl.

She shakes her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "No. I don't think so."

Before I can respond, she reaches up, her hand hovering near my face. I freeze, every muscle going rigid. "Can I?" she asks softly.

I should say no. Should pull away, put distance between us. But I find myself nodding, a sharp, jerky movement.

Her fingers are gentle as they trace the edge of the scars on my right cheek. I close my eyes, unable to watch her explore the ruin of my face. Her touch moves higher, skimming over my temple, across my right eye.

"I should warn you," I mutter, the words scraping out of my throat. "The right eye isn't real. Lost it in the explosion. What you're touching is a prosthetic. I take it out at night and wear a patch."

Her fingers pause for just a heartbeat before continuing their gentle exploration. "That's why it doesn't dilate like your left one," she says softly. "I noticed, but wasn't sure."

My eyes snap open in shock. "You noticed? When?"

"That first day, when you all arrived. I saw how your left pupil reacted to the light when you moved from the hallway into the living room, but the right one stayed fixed."

I stare at her, stunned. She'd noticed that detail from the very beginning and never said a word, never stared, never showed disgust. And now she's chosen to have me here, instead of any of the others.

"You knew... and still wanted me to stay?"

She smiles, her fingers continuing their gentle journey across my face. "Of course. It's part of you, just like everything else."

Something tight in my chest loosens, a knot I didn't even know was there. Her fingers trace the ridges of scar tissue down to my jaw, where the damage pulls my lip into a permanent snarl.

"Does this hurt?" she whispers.

"No," I manage, my voice strangled. "It's... no one's touched me at all. Not since..."

Not since the doctors who put me back together. Not since I decided the world didn't deserve to look at the monster I'd become.

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