Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Sierra
The knock on my door comes twenty minutes after Malik’s dinner inquiry, and I’m seriously considering just pretending I’ve fallen asleep.
Except I’m absolutely terrible at pretending to be asleep. I always get the giggles. It’s a problem.
“Sierra?” Cole’s voice. “I brought you something.”
I eye the door suspiciously from my position in my half-built nest. “You brought me something?”
“It’s tea.”
I pause. “What?”
“Tea. And some snacks. I’m leaving it at the door. You don’t have to open it if you don’t want to.”
This is... unexpected.
I stay where I am, pulling one of my carefully arranged blankets around my shoulders. “Why?”
“Because...” he pauses, and I hear him shift his weight. “Okay, I’m just going to be direct, because I feel like that’s probably better than dancing around it.”
My stomach drops. “Okay,” I say slowly.
“We know you’re going into heat.”
My entire body goes rigid. “I—what—how—”
“Jalen noticed. Then we all kind of put it together. You being here alone, the stress baking, the...” he makes a vague sound, “general vibe.”
“General vibe,” I repeat, staring at the door like I can will myself to disappear through sheer force of embarrassment.
“You know what I mean.” I hear him lean against the door. “Look, I’m not trying to make this weird. I just wanted to say that we’ll stay out of your way. We’re not going to bother you, we’re not going to make comments, we’re not going to be... creepy about it.”
I pull the blanket tighter, processing this. Of all the ways I expected this conversation to go, this wasn’t it.
“Oh,” I say. “That’s... actually really considerate.”
“We’re not complete assholes.”
“Professionally, you absolutely are.”
“Okay, fair,” he admits, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “But personally? We can be decent human beings when the situation calls for it.”
“The situation being that you’re trapped in a house with me during a storm while I go into heat.”
“Yeah, that’s a pretty specific situation.”
I lean my head back against the pillows, suddenly exhausted. This whole day has been too much. The drive, the storm, the booking error, the realization that I’m going to be vulnerable in front of the last people I want to see me like that.
“This is a disaster,” I say.
“It’s definitely not ideal,” Cole agrees. “But we’ll make it work. You stay in there; we stay in the living room. We’ll coordinate bathroom and kitchen times so we’re not running into each other. It’ll be like we’re not even here.”
“Except you will be here. And I’ll know you’re here. And my stupid omega is going to know there are four alphas in very close proximity, and it’s going to make everything so much worse.”
The words come out before I can stop them, and I immediately want to take them back. That’s too much information. Too honest.
A whimper rises in my throat. I bury it in the pillow, hoping he didn’t hear.
Cole goes quiet, and my heart rate kicks up. “That makes sense,” he finally says. “Biology’s a bitch sometimes.”
“The worst bitch,” I whisper.
We’re quiet for a moment, just a door between us, and it’s weird how not-weird this is. I expected him to be smug about this, or at least uncomfortable enough to make it my problem. But he’s just... handling it.
“Look,” he says finally. “I know we’ve been assholes professionally. The vendor poaching, the competitive bidding, all of it. And I know you hate us.”
“I don’t hate you,” I say, then reconsider. “Okay, I strongly dislike you. Professionally.”
“Right, professionally.” I can hear the smile in his voice again. “What I’m trying to say is—truce for the duration? We’re stuck here together, you’re dealing with something uncomfortable, and the least we can do is not make it worse for the next few days.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow.”
“About that.” He pauses. “The storm’s worse than predicted. Malik just checked the forecast. We’re looking at three, maybe four days before the roads are safe.”
What…the hell…
Three or four days? That’s the drop. That’s the spike. They’re going to be trapped here with me during the most intense, out-of-control part of my heat?
My life is over.
I bury my face into a pillow and try not to scream.
“Sierra?”
“I hate everything,” I say into the pillow. “I hate this storm. I hate this booking error. I hate that you’re here. And I especially hate that you figured it out.”
“For what it’s worth, we’re not thrilled about the situation either.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
I get the strange sensation that my words make him smile.
“Look,” he says, “we’re all adults. We can handle this professionally. We’ll stay out of your way, you stay out of ours. We’ll make it work.”
I study the door. Cole Knightley, offering a truce. Cole Knightley from the same pack that smiled at me at the Sterling wedding reveal and said, “May the best planner win,” right before stealing my photographer.
But that was business. This is... something else entirely.
“Truce,” I say finally, and I’m surprised to find that I mean it.
I hear him shift, and something about his posture must relax because his scent softens slightly, too.
“Good. Okay. That’s good.” He pauses. “The tea’s chamomile, by the way. Should help with the pre-heat jitters. And if you need anything… more blankets, different food, us to blast music so you can’t hear us existing… just let us know.”
“You’d do that?”
“We’re trying not to be complete assholes, remember?”
“Right. The new, improved Knightley Pack.”
“Don’t get used to it. Once this storm is over, we’re going right back to destroying you in the competitive event planning market.”
“Looking forward to it,” I say, and I’m almost smiling.
“I’m going to head back now. The tray’s right outside your door. Just... yeah. Okay. Have a good night, Sierra.”
“Night, Cole.”
I hear his footsteps retreat down the hall, and I wait a full minute before I crack open the door.
The tray is sitting there exactly as promised. A mug of steaming tea. A small plate with crackers and cheese. There’s even a spoon for the honey, and a little napkin folded underneath the plate.
I pick up the tray and bring it inside, closing the door softly behind me.
The mug is the perfect size, not too big or too small. I carry it over to my nest and settle into the pillows before taking a sip.
It’s perfectly steeped. Not too strong, not too weak. The temperature is ideal. There’s even a hint of honey already mixed in, just enough to take the edge off the herbal taste.
“Dammit,” I mutter.
Cole Knightley is good at making tea, and that is mildly annoying because I want to hate everything about them.
But I can’t hate perfectly made tea.
I pull my phone out, balancing the mug. I need to talk to someone about this absolute disaster of a situation, and there’s only one person who will truly appreciate the chaos.
Me
You will never believe what just happened
Mia
omg did you murder someone??? did you FINALLY murder the Knightley pack???
Me
No, but the day is young
Remember how I was going to spend this week alone in a beach house for my heat?
Mia
yeah your sexy private getaway
wait why do you sound ominous
Me
There was a booking error
Mia
no
Me
The Knightley Pack showed up
Mia
NO
Me
All four of them
Mia
SIERRA
Me
And now we’re trapped here because there’s a storm
Mia
I’M DYING
THIS IS THE BEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED
Me
It is literally NOT
I’m going into heat, Mia
In a house with four alphas
Four alphas who are my biggest professional rivals
Four alphas who smell REALLY GOOD
Mia
oh honey
oh sweetie
you’re so fucked
and I mean that in both senses of the word
Me
I am NOT sleeping with the Knightley Pack
Mia
sure
Me
I’M NOT
We have a truce
Cole just brought me tea and we’re going to stay out of each other’s way
Mia
COLE brought you TEA???
like, personally?? to your door???
Me
Yes?
Mia
and how did that make you feel?
Me
Like I’m in a therapy session
Mia
SIERRA
Me
It was... nice, okay? It was thoughtful and the tea is perfect and I hate that it’s perfect
Mia
you are going to bang those alphas
Me
I AM NOT
Mia
you absolutely are
this is like a romance novel set-up
enemies to lovers, forced proximity, omega in heat, FOUR ALPHAS
do you know how many people would PAY for this scenario???
Me
Those people are insane
Mia
those people are CULTURED
I’m living for this
keep me updated
I want hourly reports
Me
You’re the worst best friend ever
Mia
you love me
also please be safe
like actually safe, not just “don’t bang the hot alphas” safe
make sure you have enough supplies, water, food, etc
freak storms are no joke
Me
I know, Mom
I’ll be fine
Probably
Mia
TEXT ME IF YOU NEED ANYTHING
or if you decide to bang them
ESPECIALLY if you decide to bang them
I want details
Me
Goodbye, Mia
Mia
I set my phone down, shaking my head. Mia’s been my best friend since college, and she’s also the most romance-brained person I’ve ever met. She sees meet-cutes everywhere. She cried at the end of The Notebook. She believes in soulmates.
I’m her opposite.
We balance each other out.
Thunder rumbles outside, closer now. I shift in my nest to look out the window. The rain has started, fat drops spattering against the glass. The ocean is dark and churning, waves crashing against the shore with increasing violence.
It’s going to be a long few days.
I settle back into my carefully arranged pillows and blankets, taking another sip of chamomile tea. It’s working its magic, soothing some of the jittery anxiety that’s been building in my chest all day.
This is fine. This is manageable.
So what if I’m stuck in a house with the Knightley Pack? So what if they know I’m going into heat? So what if they smell amazing and Cole Knightley has unexpectedly good tea-making skills?
We have a truce. They’re going to stay out of my way. I’m going to stay in my nest. And in a few days, the storm will pass, we’ll all go our separate ways, and this will just be a weird story I tell at dinner parties.
Assuming I ever tell anyone about this.
Which I probably won’t.
Because it’s mortifying.
I pull the extra duvet up around me, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety. My nest smells like me now. It’s comforting. Grounding.
Outside, the wind picks up, howling around the corners of the house.
Inside, I can hear muffled voices from the living room. The Knightley Pack, probably discussing their strategy for dealing with this situation. Maybe placing bets on how long it takes before I do something embarrassing.
I take another sip of tea.
It really is perfectly made, damn them.
My phone buzzes.
Mia
one more thing
if this DOES turn into a romance novel situation
I want to be a bridesmaid
Me
GOODNIGHT Mia
Mia
love you babe
don’t do anything I wouldn’t do
which leaves you a LOT of options
I silence my phone and set it on the nightstand.
The storm rages outside. Four alphas are down the hall.
I close my eyes and let the sound of the rain lull me into a restless sleep, trying very hard not to think about cinnamon-glazed pecans or toasted marshmallows, or the way Cole Knightley’s voice sounded through the door when he offered a truce.
Trying very hard.
And failing completely.