Page 12 of Hot Knot Summer
“What can I say?” She grins wickedly. “I’m an overachiever. And let me tell you, it wasn’t on my visionboard, more like my ‘when hell freezes over’ list.” She waves her hand dismissively. “But that’s not the point. The point is, you’re not broken because some knothead Alpha couldn’t appreciate you. That’s like blaming the sunset for someone being colorblind.”
Her words stay with me, striking something raw and vulnerable beneath her humor. “How do I move past it?”
“Step one: eat more cake. Step two: remember you’re Emma first, Omega second.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “And step three: accept that your biology is just one chapter in your story, not the whole damn book. You just told me you literally write romance novels, you know the good ones are worth wading through the Chad-infested waters to find.”
I instantly move to hug her. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear this.”
We chat until I’ve demolished the entire cake slice and drained my coffee. Lily is funny with a sarcastic edge I immediately appreciate. She tells me about growing up in Whispering Grove, about the summer festival I’ve unknowingly arrived for, and about her ridiculous obsession with true crime shows.
“I basically think I’m a detective now,” she admits with a laugh. “My sister says I see conspiracies everywhere.”
“Are there many murders in Whispering Grove to solve?” I ask, amused.
“Sadly, no. But Mrs. Abernathy’s prize-winningpetunias were suspiciously trampled last month, and I have theories.”
I laugh, surprised at how much better I feel after an hour in Lily’s company. “This was what I needed. Thank you.”
“Anytime. Seriously, stop by whenever.” She glances at her watch. “I hate to cut this short, but I’m meeting my friend Ruby for a drink. You should join us.”
I hesitate. “I should probably get to my cabin and check in...”
“Come on,” she wheedles. “Just for a bit. We’re just going across the street to Winterscape. Ruby owns it, best bar in town. You said yourself, you need something stronger than coffee.”
The thought of facing my rental cabin alone, with all its romantic getaway trappings, is suddenly unbearable. “Okay,” I agree. “One drink.”
“That’s the spirit!” Lily stands, gathering our empty cups. “Let me change out of my flour-coated clothes, and we’ll head over.”
Twenty minutes later, we cross Main Street to a building with a sleek, modern facade that stands out from the rest of the quaint storefronts. A minimalist sign readsWinterscape.
“Don’t let the name fool you,” Lily says as we approach. “Ruby actually hates winter and all things Christmas with a passion. The name is ironic.”
Inside, Winterscape is surprisingly cozy despite its modern exterior. Warm wood, comfortable seating,and subtle lighting create an intimate atmosphere. The bar itself is a magnificent piece of polished wood, behind which stands a woman with reddish-blond hair pulled into a messy bun and amber eyes that assess us as we enter.
“You’re late,” she calls to Lily as we approach.
“I made a friend,” Lily replies, unperturbed. “Ruby, this is Emma. Emma, this is Ruby, owner of this fine establishment and collector of random bar coasters.”
Ruby’s sharp gaze softens slightly as it lands on me. “Nice to meet you. Any friend of Lily’s is welcome here.”
“Emma needs a drink,” Lily announces. “She caught her Alpha cheating with her friend.”
“Jesus, Lily,” I mutter. “Tell the whole town, why don’t you?”
“Ruby isn’t the whole town,” Lily says cheerfully. “Just the part of it that serves alcohol.”
Ruby doesn’t miss a beat. “Cheating Alpha, huh? I know just the thing.” She pulls three glasses from under the bar. “Join me?”
Before I can answer, she’s pouring amber liquid into the glasses and sliding them across the bar.
“What is it?” I ask, sniffing cautiously.
“Whiskey. Good whiskey.” Ruby, who I’m convinced is closer to my age of twenty-four, raises her glass. “To men being disappointments and women being resilient.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Lily agrees, lifting her glass.
I raise mine, clinking it against theirs before takinga sip. The whiskey burns pleasantly down my throat, warming me from the inside.
“So,” Ruby says, leaning on the bar. “How bad was it?”
