Chapter 17 #2
Knox looks around the messy kitchen. He actually sighs, a sound of pure exhaustion. “Neither am I.”
“How about we clean up at ten?” I suggest. “Give everyone time to sleep in?”
“Agreed,” Knox says immediately. “Ten o’clock. Not a minute sooner.”
“Thank god,” Fallon groans. He walks over to the cabinet where we keep the “good stuff.” He pulls out a bottle of single malt whisky he’s been saving for a special occasion. “We need a toast. To the Evans dinner. To surviving.”
He pours five shots. He slides a shot toward Knox, one toward me, one to Sarah, and keeps two. He holds one out to Amber.
She shakes her head. “I’m so tired, Fallon. My eye is throbbing, my arm stings, and I think if I drink that, I’ll pass out on the floor.”
“I’ll take hers,” Sarah offers.
“No, it’s okay. I can take it,” I say.
“If you say so!” She laughs, winking before taking her shot.
“Another?” Knox asks.
She shakes her head. “No, thanks. I actually have to run. But seriously, great job, guys. Fallon, I’ll call you so we can set up that thing I was telling you about.”
“Thank you for sticking around and helping,” Knox tells her.
She smiles before gathering her things and leaving.
“More for us,” Fallon says. He clinks his glass against Knox’s, then mine. “To Blade she was terrified of disappointing you. ”
Knox stands up slowly, his movements precise and controlled. He matches my height, his presence imposing.
“I didn’t make her feel that way. I treated her like any other employee who made a critical error. I expect competence in my kitchen. That’s not a crime. If she can’t handle the pressure, that’s on her.”
“The pressure?” I laugh harshly, the sound echoing in the large room. “You’re intimidating her, Knox. You were hovering, you were snapping, you were breathing down her neck while she was trying to devein peppers. You were creating an environment where she was bound to slip up.
“You’re the head chef. You set the tone. And the tone you set today was hostile. She was so focused on not messing up in front of you that she wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing!”
Knox stares at me, his expression unchanging, a wall of ice. “I was not hostile. I was focused. We had a high-stakes dinner service. I expect everyone to operate at the same level of intensity. If she can’t do that, she shouldn’t be there.”
From the couch, Fallon lets out a long, weary sigh. He mutes the TV. “Okay, pause the testosterone-fest for a second, guys.”
“Stay out of this, Fallon,” Knox warns, not taking his eyes off me.
“I can’t do that, brother,” Fallon says, standing up and walking over to join us. He leans his hip against the back of the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks between us, a knowing look in his eyes. “Because I think you’re both wrong. And you’re both right.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, tearing my gaze away from Knox’s icy stare.
Fallon looks at Knox. “You haven’t exactly been welcoming, Knox. I’ve seen it. You watch her like she’s about to detonate. You grind your teeth when she laughs. You stiffen up whenever she walks into the room. I don’t think it’s because you dislike her.”
Knox shifts his weight, his jaw working. “I’ve already stated that I don’t dislike her. I simply value order.”
“Bullshit,” Fallon says again, pushing off the couch. “You’re not annoyed that she’s clumsy, Knox. You’re annoyed that she’s distracting you. You’re attracted to her, man. Just admit it. It’s okay. We’re all attracted to her.”
My head snaps toward Fallon. “What?”
“Don’t look so shocked, Eli,” Fallon says, scratching the back of his neck.
“She’s gorgeous. She’s funny. She’s got that whole ‘independent hardworking single mom’ vibe going on.
You’d have to be dead not to notice. I’ve seen the way you look at her when she’s not paying attention.
And I’ve seen the way Knox looks at her, too. ”
I stare at Knox. My mind races, replaying the last few days. The way Knox’s eyes followed her across the dining room. The intensity in his gaze when he was giving her assignments. The way he hovered over her station today.
I had interpreted it as disdain. As rigidity. But what if it wasn’t?
“I…” I falter, my grip tightening on my water bottle. “I thought he was annoyed by her.”
“He was annoyed that she was a variable he couldn’t control,” Fallon counters. “And Knox hates variables he can’t control.”
“This is ridiculous,” Knox says, turning away. He paces to the window, looking out at the dark, snowy parking lot. His back is rigid, his shoulders tense. “We’re not having this conversation. We have a rule.”
“The rule,” I mutter. The words hang in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. No emotional connections. No permanent pack relationships.
“The rule is there for a reason,” Knox says.
He turns back to face us, his face a mask of indifference, though his eyes are stormy.
“To protect this pack. To protect the business. Whether we like her is irrelevant. She likes you, Eli. She made that clear. She isn’t interested in a pack.
She is interested in you. Therefore, this conversation is a waste of time. ”
“She likes me,” I repeat, the words settling in my stomach like a stone.
It’s true. She chose me. I know that. But hearing it stated so bluntly by Knox makes it final.
“And that’s that,” Knox says, walking back toward the hall. “If we’re done analyzing my nonexistent feelings, I’m going to bed. I have a menu to finalize.” He stops in front of me, our eyes locking. “Get some sleep, Eli. You look terrible.”
He walks out of the room, his footsteps heavy on the stairs leading to the upper level.
Fallon looks at me, a wry smile on his face. “Told you.”
“Yeah,” I say, sinking onto the couch. My legs feel weak. “Yeah, you did.”
“He’s scared,” Fallon says, picking up his glass of whisky.
He swirls the amber liquid. “He’s always been the one who worries about the rules.
He thinks if he feels something, the whole house of cards comes down.
He saw what happened with Mary. He saw us almost fall apart. He’s just trying to protect us.”
“I know,” I whisper. “But he’s hurting her. And he’s hurting himself.”
“He doesn’t know how to do anything else,” Fallon says. “You’re the heart, Eli. I’m the… fun? And Knox is the brain. The brain doesn’t like feelings. They’re inefficient.”
I sit there for a long time, listening to Fallon resume his game, the sounds of gunfire filling the room again. But I can’t focus on the noise.
I lie back on the cushions, staring up at the high ceilings. How did I not see it? I’m supposed to be the observant one, the nurturer. I’m the one who sees the things people try to hide.
But I’ve been so focused on Amber and me, on our own dynamic, on the joy of finding her, that I completely missed the undercurrents swirling around her.
I thought I was the only one navigating these new waters. I thought I was the only one fighting the pull.
But Knox is fighting it too. And Fallon… Fallon has already accepted it.
We’re three Alphas. And we’re all falling for the same Omega.
A small, hysterical part of me wants to laugh. The rule. The one thing Knox clung to like a lifeline. It’s being tested not by an outsider, but by us. By our own hearts.
She fits with us. The thought pops into my head unbidden. She fits the spaces between us.
Knox is right. She likes me. She has chosen me.
But as I close my eyes, listening to the wind howl outside, I can’t shake the feeling that tonight’s confession has changed something irreversibly.
The dynamic has shifted. The foundation has cracked. And I’m not sure if there is any going back.