Page 40 of Slots & Sticks
I take a bite of French toast I can’t taste. He grins, crumbs on his lip, and for one dizzy second, I can see every version of us that might exist if we stop pretending this is temporary.
I take another bite. Not because I’m hungry, but because I want to remember this moment—the way he looks at me like I’m more than a backup plan.
Like I’m someone worth choosing.
Chapter Nine
Camden
I’m only three bites into our meal when Mira pipes up from Dot’s bag.
“Normally, Dot reads while she eats. Would you like me to read aloud to you, since you’re eating with Camden? I’ll begin where you left off on your last book.”
Dot’s eyes bulge. She covers her mouth, which is full of toast, with one hand. “No!” she cries, but her voice is muffled. Mira doesn’t hear her.
Too late. In her oddly stilted voice, Mira says, “Chapter Fourteen. I had hungered for Rowan’s cock for so long, but I had never imagined how big it would be. The press of his length inside me was almost more than I could stand, but as his swollen knot pressed against my—”
“Mira! Stop reading!” Dot’s face is scarlet.
The AI falls silent. My mouth hangs open. I have a new strip of bacon lifted halfway to my lips. Thank God I wasn’t already chewing, or I’d have choked on my bacon.
I try not to look at her, which of course means I can’t stop looking at her. Dot’s blushing so hard it looks like it hurts. I should say something—anything—to make this less weird—but my brain is stuck onswollen knot pressed against my—.
Jesus.
The words bounce around my skull like a puck on bad ice. Why does every part of me suddenly feel too warm? She’s three feet away, cross-legged on the ridiculous heart-shaped bed, hair messy from laughing, mouth shiny from syrup. It shouldn’t hitlike this. We’ve shared beds before. Hell, she drooled on my arm once when she fell asleep during a movie. This is different.
I want to break the silence, so I ask the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s a knot?”
Dot lets out a low moan. “It’s an Omegaverse thing.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
She hides behind her hands. “He’s a werewolf, so he has… um, wolf bits. With unusual anatomy.”
Dot’s mouth keeps moving, but no sound comes out. Her eyes dart everywhere except mine.
I’m about to grab my phone—purely academic curiosity, of course—when Mira chimes in, perky as ever.
“Would you like a definition? Knotting is the act of—”
“Mira, no!” Dot half-shrieks.
But it’s too late.
“In certain species, the male’s reproductive organ features a bulbous—”
“Mira!” Dot buries her face in her hands.
“—that swells during intercourse to—”
“Stop!” she squeals, voice muffled by her palms.
I choke on a laugh and manage, “Educational evening so far.”
Mira pauses, apparently satisfied. “You’re welcome.”
Dot groans. “I am deleting you the minute we get home.”
