Page 39 of Knot Their Opening Act

“Yes?” I manage.

“I’m the one who should be begging you. If you need more help, if I can help you, Jez, say the word, and I will.”

“Let’s go, then.” I try to inject more confidence in this and he draws me to his feet, takes off the hoodie he’s wearing and ties it around my waist to cover the slick stains. I’m not used to feeling out of control like this. I loved giving Thomas control earlier. But sex is one thing, and letting a man do something like take care of me in this smallest of fashions—covering my embarrassment—feels like such a vulnerability.

Without conversation but with a warm, wide smile on his handsome face, we walk through the corridors and back to the elevator up to my floor. First Thomas this morning—or really, yesterday morning, as it’s nearly 1 a.m. now—and now Holden tonight. Two Fable on Fire members in two days.

Christ, I’m picking them off like characters in a horror film.

I wanted it to be only Thomas, when that happened. Just our secret. Who knows if he’s told the others—could that be why Holden showed up here, thinking he had an easy chance with me?

No. I shove this thought away as the elevator dings on my floor. There’s no way Holden could’ve guessed I’d be down here. Hell, if I’d thought about it,Ishould’ve guessed thathe’dbe in the gym at least.

There is nothing nefarious, no great conspiracy plan against me here.C’mon, Jez. Stop the paranoia.

Holden said this is natural. This is normal. What he’s meant for. And really, what I’m meant for.

So why did Tristan make me feel so needy and clingy, and so goddamn unimportant at the same time?

As Holden closes my hotel room door and gently leads me into the shower room so I can clean off and get comfortable in privacy first—as the slick is already building and seeping into my clothes again, my core desperate for so much more—my last thought of anything besides what’s under Holden’s clothes is that maybe Tristan wasn’t an Alpha after all.

CHAPTER19

Holden

Why doesshe act like this is not normal, or that she’s inconveniencing me?

Is it because I’m part of Fable, or has she really experienced some bad fucking juju from other Alphas before? Because I understand being embarrassed at the situation, the location, the immediacy of it, without a pack or Alpha mate to protect her—but with the nature of Alphas and Omegas and how weworktogether, how we’re literally made for each other, that should never been seen as something to be ashamed about.

Being with Jez is something I’ve lived in my dreams, and now it’s coming to life. How do I handle this? I have no fucking idea if I’m coming across cool and calm or if she can see right through my mask to the mind-blown exhilaration inside. Where I’m dying at the nearness of her heart and mine. Her body and mine.

This thing I’ve dreamt of all these years and never imagined could come true is here. I could never tell another living soul, least of all Jez, about how I really feel.

Can I tell now?

There’s no real online confirmation of any of her previous romances, though I admit I had a look around before tour started, just digging more into her life from the past three years. Not really looking for personal stuff or gossip bullshit. Though that stuff comes up no matter how safely you try to search.

What I found was she’d been seen for around eighteen months, give or take, betweenTen to Oneand now, with a local Bristol DJ called Tristan West, aka “DJ Saxon Wax.”

The fuck kind of name is that? I rolled my eyes at the time and it’s certainly no better now. I’m not big into the DJ scene but I hadn’t heard of him. I’d shown it to Thomas and Nico but certainly not Kai. He would only go off on one and I was weary of that fucking chit-chat.

After about eight minutes, the bathroom door opens in Jez’s hotel room. And if I expected the Jez that comes out to be relaxed, revived, and content, I’m dead wrong. She has a fluffy white hotel robe on, but that’s theonlything that looks in place. The rest of her looks ready to claw someone’s eyeballs out.

Her hair’s damp from the shower but her face is more than flushed. Her cheeks almost look like they’ve broken out in a rash. Her eyes are red. Tired. But also not blinking much. And she’s twitching back and forth from one foot to the other.

She looks pretty unhappy. Which means I didn’t do my part well enough.

Not well enough at all.

She stops just outside the bathroom door, staring at me.

“I thought you’d be gone.” Her voice isn’t like I’ve ever heard it before. It’s hollow, and that feisty spirit I’ve respected and admired in her is missing.

I shrug, raising my palms slightly, standing a few feet away. “I’m sorry that was the impression I gave. But as far as I’m concerned, I haven’t finished the job yet.”

She still doesn’t blink, but she doesn’t look away. I glance toward the bed meaningfully. Now that the heat of the moment, no pun intended, of being stuck in an adrenaline-fueled scenario has passed, is she really going to try to wave this away?

“Jez, you don’t have to be embarrassed. And I will absolutely leave if that’s what you want.” What did she say, exactly? It’s been a long fucking day, and all I can remember is,‘Let’s go then.’

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