Page 139 of Knot Like Other Girls

A soft clinking sound from beyond the bedroom door draws my attention. Cole must be in the kitchen. Carefully, I extract myself from the tangle of sleeping alphas, smiling as Troy makes a small sound of protest before promptly slinging an arm across Roman's chest instead. Roman, still deeply asleep, merely accommodates the movement without waking.

The floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I pad across the room. I pause in the doorway, looking back at the sleeping alphas. My breath catches at the sight—four powerful men, lethal in their own rights, vulnerable in sleep.

Trusting me. Letting me see them this way.

I could get used to this.

The hallway is dim, lit only by what little dawn light filters through the windows at either end. I follow the soft sounds to the kitchen, where I find Cole standing at the counter, his back to me as he measures coffee grounds into a filter. He's already dressed in dark jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders. His white hair is still tousled from sleep.

"You're staring," he says without turning around, his deep voice quiet in the still morning air.

Heat rushes to my cheeks. "How did you know I was here?"

"Heard you get up. Smelled you coming down the hall." Now he does turn, his single blue eye finding mine with unerring accuracy. "Sleep okay?"

I nod, moving further into the kitchen. "Better than I have in years."

Surprise and a hint of disbelief flicker in his gaze. "Good."

Such a simple word, yet I can hear everything he's not saying beneath it. Cole doesn't waste words. Every utterance carries weight, meaning layered beneath meaning.

"Need help?" I ask, gesturing to the coffee maker.

He shakes his head. "Almost done. You could get mugs, though, if you want. Cabinet above the dishwasher."

I move to the indicated cabinet, opening it to find a collection of mismatched mugs. Each one seems to have character—some are clearly handmade pottery, others have funny sayings or faded logos. Nothing matching, nothing perfect. Nothing like the carefully curated, Instagram-worthy mugs Braxley insisted upon.

"These are great," I say, pulling one out. "So much personality."

Cole glances over. I notice he's already put his prosthetic eye back in. "Troy collects them. Everywhere we go, he finds the ugliest mug in the gift shop and brings it home."

The casual mention of "home" makes me pause. This cabin, then, isn't just a safe house. It's their actual home—the place they return to between jobs, the space they've made their own. And they've welcomed me into it without hesitation.

I select five mugs, each one different, and set them on the counter. As I reach for the sixth mug—this one shaped like a bear's head—I feel a strange flutter low in my belly. A warmth that spreads outward, making my skin feel suddenly sensitive. I freeze, mug half-lifted from the shelf.

My heat. It's starting to build.

"Bella?" Cole's voice breaks through my momentary panic. He's watching me with concern, his head tilted slightly to one side. "You okay?"

I carefully set the mug down before answering. "Fine. Just... I think my heat's starting."

His expression shifts immediately, becoming more alert, more focused. His nostrils flare slightly as he scents the air, and I watch as his pupil dilates in response to whatever he detects. "Early stages," he confirms, his voice rougher than before. "Probably have most of today before it hits full force."

The matter-of-fact way he discusses it calms me somewhat. This will not only be my first true heat, but with five alphas, no less. The thought sends another wave of prickling warmth through me.

"Do you still want to go into town today?" Cole asks, turning back to the coffee maker. His movements are more deliberate now, more controlled. "We can stay here if you'd prefer."

I consider this for a moment. The idea of staying in the cabin, just the six of us, is tempting. But I still need supplies for mynest, and the thought of exploring this mountain town with my alphas appeals to me.

"I still want to go," I decide. "The shop—Soft Spot, right?—will have things I need for my nest." I pause, watching his profile. "Unless you think it's not safe?"

Cole shakes his head. "It's safe. Small town, people mind their business. And you'll have five alphas with you." His lip curls slightly on his good side. "Nobody's getting near you."

The possessive note in his voice makes the prickling warmth spike. I've never had anyone be so protective of me before. My parents certainly never were, always more concerned with their own status and comfort than my wellbeing. And Braxley... well, Braxley only cared about how I made him look.

But these five men—these five alphas—they protect me because they value me. Me, Bella Emerson, not what I represent or what I can do for them.

The coffee maker finishes brewing with a final hiss of steam. Cole reaches for the carafe just as the first of the others begins to stir. I hear a thump from the bedroom, followed by Troy's sleep-roughened voice complaining about something and Liam's rumbling response.

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