Page 10 of Ready or Knot

“Can I kiss you?” The question falls from me before I have the good sense to keep it where it belongs—in my goddamn head.

We don’t get physical at these.

The first few galas were different. We were still optimistic. But it grew tiresome to have what would become one night stands without the lack of emotional attachment. So the most we do is dance and chat. Anything more, and we politely decline and move on.

So why the hell am I asking this woman if I can kiss her?

She giggles and leans forward, her lips pressing against mine, her tongue tracing my bottom lip. I pull her tighter into me, enjoying the feel of her body, and the faint smell of jasmine floats around us.

Her scent.

I groan, low in my throat and so quiet the music drowns it out. Our tongues tangle, sharing an unspoken language that I’m not sure I understand. Whatever the question, though, I like the answer. I trace her spine and twist my hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, and she hums. I vaguely hear the song change again, the moment of intimacy giving way to another bass heavy hit. Her chest is flushed when she pulls away with a smile, and her face is radiant as her fingers twist around a lock of hair at the nape of my neck. She’s gorgeous. I’m struck speechless.

Carter steps up beside me as my shocked silence continues, and thank whatever higher being that he does. She turns to him with a wide smile.

“Mind if I join?” he asks.

She giggles, adjusting so she stands between us, bringing her hands over her head again.

“Can I call you Red?” I ask, my lips pressed against her ear. Goosebumps rise along her neck. “Or is that too on the nose?”

She laughs, twisting to look up at me. “I like it,” she says. My grip tightens on her hips.

The night flies by, song after song spent with her between us, and I can’t honestly remember the last time one of these galas has been so fun. A woman taps on Faedra’s shoulder as the next slower song starts, her gaze intent, a sly smile gracing her lips. She leans into Faedra, asking a question, and Faedra glances at us both. Carter steps back, and I follow his lead.

The woman has Faedra in her arms, whispering something in her ear that makes her giggle, before we manage to get off the dance floor. Jude’s chatting with a few Omegas, hands in his pockets but his stance relaxed. We join him.

“Denver’s on my bucket list, actually. I’d love to summit a few of the fourteeners,” one woman says, adjusting her hair over her shoulder, bringing attention to the low neckline of her dress. Stifling a sigh, I glance at the dance floor, catching sight of Faedra’s red hair in the mix of people. Carter leans in.

“You going to find her again?” he whispers, keeping his lips turned away from the others at the table.

I nod, offering a polite smile to the group while Jude keeps up a decent flow of conversation. The moment the group of women has moved on to the next table, I scan the dance floor again. And then the room at large.

I frown, and Carter sighs, rubbing his neck.

Faedra is gone.

* * *

FAEDRA

I fiddle with the envelope, opening it and then tucking the flap back in as I try to summon the courage to read whatever is inside. It’s small, much smaller than I’d really expected for correspondence from the Council about the party a few days ago. The person who had delivered it had given soft, simple instructions: read through it and submit my response within twenty-four hours.

Simple enough.

Except I can’t seem to manage to open it to see what, exactly, the Council is wanting me to give a response to.

With a sigh, I unfold myself from the lounge chair in the dorm living room, stepping up to the closed door across from me and tapping on it once.

“Vi, I know you’re there. Can I come in, please?”

There’s the sounds of someone moving around, followed almost immediately by a soft curse before the door swings open just shy of violently. Violet’s hair is pulled back, a messy bun sitting atop her head slightly askew, and her cheeks are flushed. I raise an eyebrow, and she grimaces.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been hot and bothered , too, Fae,” she says.

I lean against the doorframe, fixing the waistband of my skirt. “Wasn’t going to, Vi. Just didn’t realize that you were busy. You could have told me to wait.”

She waves a hand, walking to her desk.

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