Page 55 of Knotting else Matters

“No, I don’t. I know you’re strong. Cold. Calculating. I know you lead this pack with that perfect, unshakeable confidence. But that’s not who you are. That’s what they made you.”

“Is it?” His smile was a slow, wicked curve, but there was something else—something raw, vulnerable, just beneath the surface. “Then tell me who I am, Olivia.”

“You’re… you’re different with me.” My voice softened, the wild, desperate ache in my chest twisting, fierce and relentless. “You laugh. You let yourself be wild. You’re… you’re not the perfect Alpha they want you to be.”

“Because I don’t want to be.” He leaned in, his forehead almost touching mine, his voice a fierce, desperate whisper. “Not with you.”

My breath caught, my heart racing, the sharp, aching heat crashing through me. “This is… this is too much. Too fast. I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” Adrian leaned closer, the fierce, desperate heat of him a perfect, maddening contrast to the cold, twisting ache in my chest.

“I can’t—” I pulled my hand away, stumbling to my feet, the wooden chair scraping against the polished floor. “We should go. We should… we have to get back. Sophie’s probably losing her mind with last-minute preparations, and you—”

“Olivia.” His voice was calm, a quiet, steady command that cut through my frantic, spiraling thoughts.

But I didn’t want calm. I didn’t want steady. I wanted distance. Space. Anything to stop this fierce, suffocating tension that twisted in my chest, the wild, desperate ache of his words crashing over me.

“Don’t.” I grabbed my bag, my fingers fumbling with the strap, my breath coming faster. “Just… let’s go.”

“You’re running.” He didn’t move, but his gaze never left me, sharp and focused, watching me like I was a wild, cornered animal.

“Congratulations, Alpha. You figured it out.” I forced a laugh, but it came out bitter, sharp, a broken edge slipping into my voice. “I’m chaos, right? That’s what you love so much about me.”

“Stop.”

“No, you stop.” I snapped, spinning on my heel, already heading for the door. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to… to pick me apart like some sort of puzzle and then act like you can fix me.”

“I’m not trying to fix you.” His voice was calm, but I heard the faint, frustrated edge threading through it. “I’m trying to get you to see—”

“To see what? That I’m a mess? That I’m just some wild, reckless mistake you’re going to regret the second this is over?”

His jaw tightened, his fists clenched, and I saw it—the faint, desperate flicker in his dark eyes, the struggle to hold on to that perfect, unshakeable calm. “Is that what you think I see?”

“I don’t know, Adrian.” I shoved open the door, the warm, golden sunlight crashing over me like a wave. “I don’t know what you see. And I don’t care.”

But that was a lie. I did care. I cared too much. And that was the problem.

We walked in silence to the truck, the warm, hazy sunlight stretching across the rolling fields, the faint buzz of cicadas a distant, muffled hum. Adrian’s jaw was set, his gaze fixed on the road, the tension radiating off him in sharp, silent waves.

I climbed into the passenger seat, slamming the door a little too hard, my fingers gripping the glittery, ridiculous watch on my wrist, the cheap, plastic strap digging into my skin.

The engine roared to life, and we pulled out onto the long, winding road, the golden fields blurring past, the sky stretching out in a perfect, cloudless blue. But the warmth, the soft, lazy comfort of the morning was gone, replaced by a sharp, suffocating silence.

I didn’t play my music. Didn’t say a word. Just stared out the window, my fingers tracing the stupid, glittering flowers on the watch strap, my mind racing, twisting, crashing against itself.

Beside me, Adrian didn’t speak. Didn’t look at me. His hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the road like it was the only thing keeping him from losing control.

And gods, I hated this. Hated the silence, hated the tension, hated the sharp, desperate ache that twisted in my chest every time I glanced at him, every time I saw that fierce, stubborn look in his eyes.

We didn’t speak for the entire drive. The sky darkened, the golden fields fading to shadow, the soft, warm glow of the town lights rising in the distance.

By the time we pulled into the restaurant parking lot, the sky was a deep, dark blue, the soft glow of the lanterns casting a warm, golden light over the open-air terrace.

Sophie was already there, her blonde curls tumbling in soft waves around her shoulders, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke to Karl, her voice a soft, anxious murmur.

The moment I stepped out of the truck, she turned, her face lighting up. “Liv! Finally! I was starting to think—”

“Save it,” I snapped, slamming the truck door shut. “I’m here. No thanks to you.”

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