Page 6 of Knot That Serious

The gentle buzz covered her quickly, with how little she usually smoked. A comfortable fog rolled in, and she felt her shoulders relax, the weed doing everything her scalding hot shower and deep breathing exercises wouldn’t.

With a last cloud-white exhale, she put the barely smoked joint away in the airtight container, then stashed it under her bed.

Birds chirped outside her window, and the cool spring air drifted through the screen, rustling her drying curls. She watched the leaves on the trees blow in the wind, and drank her icy water. Then she picked the fruit out and ate it like a reward for hydrating. The citrus burst on her tongue in delightful relief.

Now that she was finally relaxed, she couldn’t imagine why she’d been so upset over all those little things, and crawled into the many blankets and pillows of her nest.

She calmly rolled over her options, deemed the Omega Center her least favorite, and wondered if maybe Jack could just find someone to crash with while her heat worked its way through.

Or maybe he could heat sit. Could alphas do that? Like trip sitting, but just to make sure no one, like, broke in while she was vulnerable.

They’d have to talk it over, regardless, and Eli began rehearsing what she’d say.

But how did she tell her alpha roommate that she was going to experience a heat for the very first time?

When Eli woke again, the sun was setting, the tweets of early afternoon birds turned to distantly honking cars as the rush hour traffic went nowhere.

She rolled over, shaking off the deepest sleep she’d had recently, and groaned into a stretch, accidentally kicking one of her many pillows off the bed.

Her groan had melted into a screech by the time she finished stretching, and she sat up, feeling better than she had in days.

Ruffling a hand through her hair—curls now flattened and crimped from sleeping right after showering—she slid from the bed and made her way out of her room.

Her steps were soft and silent as she followed the smell of dinner wafting from the kitchen.

“There she is,” Jack said, peering through the cutout in the wall, spatula in hand. “I wondered when you were gonna wake up.”

“I slept really fucking good,” Eli said.

Jack grinned at her. “Looks like it,” he said, motioning to her face.

She narrowed her eyes, glanced at the mirror hanging above the small round eating table, and rubbed at the creases on her face.

When she faced Jack again, he was still smiling.

“S’cute,” he said, and turned around to flip something in the pan.

Cheeks flushing at the fond note in his voice, Eli crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen entrance. The meager kitchen was set in an alcove, and the wall cutout was framed above the breakfast bar.

“What’s for dinner?” she asked, leaning against the doorway and watching Jack fiddle at the stove. He was tall and lean, with tousled dark hair and broad shoulders and tattoos creeping up his left arm.

In other words: devastatingly hot. It was Eli’s least favorite quality of Jack’s.

“Grilled cheese and soup,” he offered with a flourish. “Listen,” he said, and scraped the spatula across the crispy bread.

Her mouth watered.

“Smells good,” she said. “How can I help?”

Jack turned to her and wrinkled his nose.

Her gaze dropped to the too-small apron wrapped around his frame, and she snorted. It was her apron, and it said, “Can’t stand the heat? Figures, you’re not an omega.”

“You can’t help. This is part of my apology for being late this morning. Go do whatever nightly wake-up rituals you have. I’ll shout when it’s ready.”

A buzz caught her attention, and she glanced down to the phone beside Jack, watching the screen light up.

He was still staring at her, motioning with the spatula for her to go, and she did.

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