Page 119 of Knot So Social

“There’s a bike. In the shed down the side of the house. If you want it.” I twist my hands together. “Not sure if the tires are good, but there’s a pump in the box with helmets. Take one of those too.” My traitorous mouth runs away like a wild animal. I haven’t had verbal diarrhea since the first year I started filming social media content.

Joel hesitates, back still turned to me. “Sure. You better get back to him.”

He says him like Alessandro’s an alien presence we can’t speak about. And I think I know why.

Jeremy rounds the corner, a salad wrap perched on a dinner plate. “Oh. Going somewhere?” he asks.

Joel swipes the wrap off the plate and marches out through the front door.

“Hey!” Jeremy roars. “That wasn’t for you.”

Joel’s voice drifts from out of sight. “The dude’s asleep.”

The front door slams.

Jeremy glances at the empty plate and then back at me. “Alessandro fell asleep?”

I nod, throat too full to speak.

Chapter thirty-seven

Joel

My blood burns as I slam my feet onto the pedals and skid out of Willow’s yard in a spray of gravel. The alpha spirit within lashes back and forth, testing my control. For an alpha, with our high metabolisms and physical strength to get roofied is a serious matter, so I thought maybe this Alessandro might be a weaker type.

Then he opened his eyes and smiled, and I realized what a gorgeous fucking bastard he was. One of those smooth European fellows speaking in another language with a dreamy accent. And a strong alpha presence to boot, even though he’s got it mostly on lock down. He has better control over it than me, even with all the months I’ve been reining myself in.

No wonder some bitch tried to get her hands on him. With that realization, my thoughts swing from blame to boiling rage, like it’s a personal affront that someone would do that to Willow’s alpha.

And the entire time I stood in that house, I was so turned on by Willow that I could barely function.

I’ve lost the fucking plot.

I push those pedals around with all my strength, my burning muscles distracting me from the storm in my heart.

A hot wind splashes over my face as I ride like the devil’s on my tail. It’s barely noon, but this day already feels a week long. Sweat sticks my shirt to my back, but it’s nothing compared to the inner heat popping and snapping in my gut. Before I’m ready, I spy my van straddling the sidewalk.

With a pair of police officers looking in the window.

Fuck me!

I stop a distance away and remove my helmet. “Hi, there,” I call, dredging up a friendly wave.

Both alphas flinch and whirl around. I hold my hands out wide where they can see them.

“Need something?” The two officers puff out their chests and come a few steps closer.

I point over their shoulders. “That’s my van. I came to get it off the streets.”

Their hands reaching for holsters relax, but not their expressions. “A concerned citizen called it in. What’s your vehicle doing here?”

I scratch at itch sweat caking my hair. Let’s see if I can explain this without mentioning drugs or omegas. “We had a family emergency and jumped in one car. I came right back to get it.”

I’m about to apologize for the clumsy parking but snap my teeth shut. No need to give them ammunition to charge me.

One officer kicks the tire. “You know this is parked illegally, right?”

Dammit. Of all the useless fucking timing in the world, why’d someone have to report it now? “Sorry about that. My packmate had a fit.”