Page 15 of Knot Alone

Five minutes ago, I was fine.

Five minutes ago, I was sure.

But now every bit of discomfort I should’ve had about getting tongue-fucked by an Alpha I don’t know is bubbling up. It’s no longer held back by the staunch certainty that Linus is a good man. That I can trust him to keep me safe. It used to be fine that I spread my legs for a man I barely know because my inner Omega knows something I don’t. But now…

“I think it’s time for me to call for another caseworker,” Iris says, gently.

Linus rumbles like he’s in pain, but he cuts the sound off with a vengeance.

“No,” I say without thinking, trying to help.

“You don’t need to, Ms. Page,” Iris says, edging into that conciliatory, condescending tone that Peterson used.

“I know I don’t need to.” I snap. “I’m making a choice.” Yes, Linus messed up, but he clearly didn’t do it on purpose.

Does it matter that he’s married? I ask myself. I just need a heat partner for this one heat to keep the Center off my back. If Linus’ husband doesn’t care that he’s helping me for one heat, why should I? The stupid stone in my stomach can shut up about how I’m disappointed. It’s not like I want him or anything.

“Then may I recommend Mr. Lockridge call Mr. Baxter and invite him here for the standard introductory meeting in our refectory?”

Ugh, I could see it now. Sitting across from Linus’ husband underneath fluorescent lights while I smell like sex. A caseworker standing in the corner watching us like zoo animals.

“No. Linus and I were going to go back to his house for a conversation. And that’s what we’re going to do.” I rise from the chair and Linus stumbles after me. Despite having had the man between my legs, this is the first time he’s looked anything less than put together. That vulnerability drives back my doubt.

It’s still Linus.

Yes, he made a mistake. But I still feel safe with him. I still trust him to see me through this heat. After that, I can go back to normal and never have to come back to the Center for another heat.

“Thank you for your help, Iris. I have your number in case anything comes up. I’ll contact you when I’m ready for my follow-up appointments.”

Linus straightens his jacket and his spine at my words, ushering me out the door as he backs my play.

Linus sweeps me down to the front desk to check out. His resting bitch face is enough to stop anyone from asking questions, even though they clearly want to. Their silence is wonderful because the only complete sentence Linus gets out from behind his tense jaw is if I’d like a ride to his place. I agree, and soon enough he’s holding open the door to the backseat of a black town car with a driver. The man takes one look at the two of us and immediately rolls up the partition.

The uncomfortable silence between us lingers just long enough for me to realize my dress rode up when I sat. I didn’t notice until I tried to fidget and caught the stick of leather against my bare thighs.

It only takes a beat for my brain to travel up my legs and remember I’m not wearing any panties.

I wouldn’t have wanted to put those soaking wet things back on, but there’s nothing but my skirt in between me and being naked in the back seat of Linus’ car. (Somehow that’s worse than knowing my panties are in his pocket, a few inches away from his nose where he can probably scent them.)

I fidget again, trying to find something to say before Linus blurts, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” I startle.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about Graham. I thought I did, but that’s no excuse for not making sure.” Linus stares directly ahead instead of looking at me, but the apology doesn’t seem forced, just uncomfortable. Like he hadn’t expected to be so terribly wrong today.

“I’m sorry I didn’t communicate clearly, and I’m sorry I put you in an awkward situation with the Center, and with me… and right now. If you’d like, the driver can drop me off at home—it’s only a few minutes away—then my driver can take you to your house so you don’t have to worry about me following you. From there, you never have to see me again. We can tell the caseworker that we made a good-faith effort, but our connection was born out of the stress of the moment. I apologize that they’ll probably bring you back in to find another Alpha. But your caseworker and I have failed you so egregiously that they may be agreeable about just giving you the privacy that you want.”

I… don’t know what to say to that avalanche of words.

I’ve been psyching myself up for the world’s most awkward conversation where Linus tells me the heat boundaries of his and his husband’s marriage. I thought Linus would be supportive, helping me through my heat with his excellent fingers, and maybe I’d make two new friends. At worst, I thought I’d just accidentally been the other woman and would need to call an Uber when things got ugly.

What I didn’t expect was an apology. It’s startling. I can’t remember the last time anyone apologized to me, let alone an Alpha. (Let alone an Alpha of Linus’ status, because regular people don’t run around in chauffeured town cars.)

I’ve been quiet too long and Linus’ shoulders climb towards his ears. “So, lie to them?” I tease. Linus unclenches just a hair.

“You got in the car.” Linus shrugs. “That counts as a good-faith effort to me.”

“I’d like to meet Graham,” I say. I don’t even realize the words are true until they’ve come out of my mouth.

---