Page 63 of Hot Knot Summer
She nearly chokes on her pizza again. “Good to know,” she manages after recovering. “Any of you happen to be venomous? Should I keep my distance? Sleep with one eye open?”
“Only if you’re afraid of getting bitten,” I say, earning a swift kick from River.
“Don’t mind him,” River stage-whispers to Emma. “He’s all equations and precision until he sees something he wants. Then he’s like a different person.”
Emma raises an eyebrow, glancing between River and me. “And you know this from experience?”
“We’ve been packmates for many years,” River says with a wink. “I know all his secrets.”
We enjoy the pizza while I turn on the television, flicking through channels until he stops on Midnight Valley.
“Stop here,” I say, a bit too excited. “I love this show.”
“You watch it, too? I try to watch it at the station as it only airs at midday!” I state.
“It’s his obsession,” Atlas confirms. “He makes us sit through it every week.”
“You said you liked it last episode!” I protest.
Atlas shrugs. “I said the werewolf was decent. Not the same thing.”
River nods solemnly, biting into his slice of supreme.
Emma laughs, the sound bright and unguarded, and something in my chest tightens. It’s the first time I’ve heard her really laugh, not nervous or sarcastic, but really amused.
I pull up the latest episode, settling back on the couch, and we all settle in to watch.
A short moment later, I notice Emma surreptitiously pull out her phone. At first, I think she’s checking messages, but then I catch a glimpse of the screen—she’s angling it to capture a photo of River, who’s absorbed in the show.
I watch her for a moment, fascinated by this small, secretive action. Is she documenting her stay? Gathering images of us for her enjoyment later?
When the commercial break comes, I lean over River, bringing my face close to hers. “Are you collecting images of us for future research?” I murmur, nodding toward her phone.
She startles, nearly dropping the device. “What? No!”
River looks up, immediately interested. “You took a photo of me? Sweet, tell and I’ll pose.” Without waiting for a response, he unbuttons the top of his shirt with atheatrical flourish, then throws himself into a ridiculous pin-up pose on the couch, complete with duck lips and bedroom eyes.
Emma bursts out laughing but lifts her phone to snap the picture, anyway.
“It’s for my friend Jess,” she admits, the blush returning to her cheeks. “She insisted on knowing who I’m staying with, so if I go missing, she knows whose photos to give the cops.”
“Oh, so we’re potential criminals now?” I raise an eyebrow.
She shrugs. “An Omega’s got to be safe. For all I know, you’re all serial killers.”
“I posed for mine back at the fire station,” Atlas points out, a hint of smugness in his tone. “Full disclosure for the authorities.”
“So, want me with or without my shirt?” I ask, already pulling the fabric over my head before she can answer. “Gotta make sure your friend has accurate identification materials.”
The words die in Emma’s throat as she takes in my bare chest. Her lips part slightly, eyes widening. It’s gratifying, that look—a validation of the hours I spend training.
“You’re drooling,” River points out helpfully, nudging her with his elbow.
Atlas chuckles. “If you want to sit next to him, I’ll take a photo of both of you. Then we could do all of us.”
“Nope!” Emma squeaks, frantically snapping a picture of me, anyway. “Got all I need, thanks!”
We all laugh, and as the show resumes, I make no move to put my shirt back on. Every few minutes, I catch her stealing glances at me, her eyes tracing the lines of my torso before darting away when caught.
