Page 57 of Knotting on Heaven's Door

“Just washed it,” I said dryly, sliding into the seat across from her.

“Works for you,” she teased. “Sit. I got us the best spot—corner table, good light, decent privacy, and no screaming pups around.”

A waiter appeared, setting down water glasses. Sophie smiled at him and asked for three menus.

I paused. “Three?”

She turned to me, casual but sweet. “I also invited Olivia. If that’s okay?”

“Of course.” I offered a polite smile.

I didn’t know Sophie’s sister that well—we’d met a few times in passing—but Olivia had always struck me as…vibrant. A little too chaotic for my taste. Loud, expressive, unpredictable. But she was a Zeta, and that kind of emotional transparency was baked into their nature. She wore her heart on her sleeve, probably glittered it too. Still, there was nothing malicious in her—just energy, big and bright.

And if the rumors swirling around the pack were true—that Adrian, our Alpha, was planning to make Olivia his Luna—then yes, I definitely wanted to stay on her good side.

Sophie leaned in, dropping her voice just a bit. “She’s still a little unsure about it, you know. About Adrian. But don’t tell her I said that.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Good. She listens to you more than she lets on, so be nice.”

I arched a brow. “I’m always nice.”

Sophie grinned, pulling a small velvet box from her bag. “Also, I got you something.”

“Oh?”

“For putting together the most beautiful, chaotic, and emotionally overwhelming ceremony of my life.”

She slid the box across the table. Inside, nestled in satin, was a delicate silver bracelet with a charm shaped like a laurel wreath.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, touched despite myself.

“Made by a local artist in Florence,” Sophie said proudly, just as the café door chimed.

A blast of late September heat followed Olivia inside like she was dragging it behind her on purpose. She yanked off her oversized sunglasses with a dramatic sigh, her black curls frizzing slightly from the humidity. She wore a faded Iron Maiden T-shirt knotted at the waist, ripped jeans that lookedlike they’d been through a war, and chunky boots that thudded across the chic café floor like she was trying to summon an earthquake.

“For fuck’s sake,” she grumbled as she flopped into the seat beside Sophie. “It’s almost October. Where’s fall? Where are the cozy sweaters? Why am I still sweating like a sinner in church?”

Sophie burst out laughing. “You’re just mad because you can’t wear your leather jacket without passing out.”

Olivia pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and gave us both a dry look. “Exactly.”

Despite the theatrics, I couldn’t help but smile. There was something disarming about Olivia. Chaotic, sure—but also very real. No pretense.

We ordered, and conversation flowed easily. Sophie told us more about her honeymoon—how beautiful Italy had been, how good the food was, how Karl kept trying to drive scooters like he was born in Rome.

“I honestly didn’t think we’d make it back in one piece,” she said between bites of her lavender scone. “Karl nearly got into a fight with a local over a parking spot. In Italian.”

“I thought he didn’t speak Italian?” I asked.

“Hedoesn’t.” She rolled her eyes, grinning. “But it turns out yelling‘bella macchina, cazzo!’gets the point across either way.”

Olivia laughed, then sighed, “Gods, I need a vacation. But no, I’m stuck trying to find an apartment that doesn’t cost more than my soul but fits Adrian's big ego in it.”

Sophie tilted her head, all innocent curiosity. “Aw… you and Adrian finally found a place?”

Olivia blinked. “What? No. Gods, no.”

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