Chapter 18 #3
“We know,” Eli says. “So can we all sleep on it, talk tomorrow?”
“Of course,” I say.
“Good,” Fallon says, grinning. “I’m so glad we cleared that up.”
Knox clears his throat. “Now that that’s cleared up, can we please get back to work? I think I hear a customer.”
We walk out of the office together, the tension in the air finally breaking, replaced by something new. Something exciting. And terrifying. But mostly exciting.
The kitchen doesn’t return to normal after the office meeting. It settles into something else entirely—a charged, static-filled silence that makes the hair on my arms stand up.
Every time a knife hits the cutting board or a pan hits the stove, it feels too loud.
I throw myself into work. If I’m moving, I don’t have to think about Knox’s admission or the way Fallon looked at me.
I scrub the already-clean counters until my palms sting. I organize the spice rack by height, then by color, then by height again because the color one looked wrong.
Through the service window, I feel it.
A gaze. Heavy, intent.
I look up from arranging the napkins. Knox is at the pass, plating a seared scallop dish. He isn’t looking at the food. He’s looking at me.
His gray eyes track my movements from behind the safety of his glasses. Usually, he looks at me with critical distance, searching for mistakes.
This isn’t that. This is hunger.
My cheeks heat. I turn away, grabbing a rag to wipe down a spotless table.
It happens again with Fallon an hour later. I’m crouched by the dishwasher, loading racks of glasses. I stand up, stretching my back, and find him leaning against the prep island, a knife in his hand.
He isn’t chopping. He’s just watching me, a crooked grin tilting his lips. He winks when our eyes meet, bold and unashamed.
It’s weirdly flattering. For years, I was invisible to Luke unless I was doing something wrong. I was a prop in his life, something to be moved or discarded.
Here, in this kitchen, I feel seen. Really seen. Not just as a worker, but as a woman. It’s terrifying, but it also sends a little thrill through my chest every time I catch one of them sneaking a glance.
By the time the dinner rush ends, I’m vibrating with exhaustion and a low-key anxiety that won’t quit. We clean in record time, fueled by the weird energy between us.
No one cracks jokes. The radio is off. The only sounds are the splash of water and the hiss of the sanitizer.
“I’m heading out,” Knox says, hanging up his apron. He looks at me, then quickly at the floor. “Good work today, Amber.”
“Thanks, Knox.”
He grabs his coat and leaves, the back door swinging shut behind him. The tension in the room drops by a fraction.
Fallon is next. He stretches his arms over his head, his tattoos rippling. “I’m beat. I’m going to go find a quiet corner of the house and pass out. You coming, Eli?”
“In a bit,” Eli says, wiping his hands on a towel. “I’m going to walk Amber to her car.”
Fallon looks between us. “Right. See you tomorrow, Amber.”
“Night, Fallon.”
He leaves, and suddenly it’s just me and Eli in the kitchen. He walks over to me, his hands in his pockets. He looks tired, the lines around his eyes deeper than usual, but his smile is warm.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
I grab my purse and coat, shrugging them on. Eli opens the back door for me, letting in a blast of freezing air. The parking lot is a sheet of black ice, reflecting the yellow glow of the street lamps.
We walk toward my car in silence. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. There are things hanging in the air between us, unsaid and huge.
I stop next to the driver’s side door, leaning back against the cold metal. I don’t want to get in yet. I don’t want this day to end with the confusion still knotting my stomach.
“Eli?”
“Yeah?” He turns to face me, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets.
“What exactly did Fallon mean in there? About the dynamic shifting? It feels like there’s something you’re not telling me. “
Eli sighs, a white cloud of breath puffing out between us. He looks up at the night sky, avoiding my eyes. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” I hug my arms around myself. “Please. I feel like I’m missing a huge piece of the puzzle here.”
He lowers his gaze to mine. The brown in his eyes is warm, but there’s a hesitancy there that makes my stomach tighten.
“When we were in our early twenties, living in Portland... things were different,” he starts slowly. “We were young, successful, and stupid. We... we used to share Omegas.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Share them? Like, all three of you at once?”
He nods, looking a bit embarrassed. “It wasn’t malicious. It was just... casual. Physical. We were a pack, and we did everything together. We thought we could keep our emotions out of it.”
“Let me guess. You couldn’t.”
“No.” He gives a bitter laugh. “We couldn’t. There were two specific situations that made us realize we were playing with fire.”
He leans back against the car next to mine, shifting his weight.
“The first was a girl named Angela. She was sweet, funny. She was mostly with me—I connected with her on a different level than the others. But I tried to share her with Knox and Fallon because that’s what we did.
It got messy. Fallon got possessive. Knox got frustrated because he felt like he was intruding on an actual relationship that was forming.
It ended badly. Lots of yelling, hurt feelings. ”
I wince. “That sounds awful.”
“It was. But the second time was worse. Her name was Mary.” Eli’s jaw tightens.
“She realized pretty quickly that she had power over us. She played us. She’d tell Knox one thing, then tell Fallon another, then come to me crying about it.
She nearly destroyed us. We stopped speaking to each other for months.
Blade & Butter almost didn’t happen because we couldn’t stand to be in the same room. ”
My heart aches for him. I can’t imagine these three men, who move like a single organism in the kitchen, being torn apart by anyone.
“So, after that, we made a pact,” he continues. “A kind of rule. No emotional connections. No permanent pack relationships. We date and sleep around, but we never let an Omega become more important than the pack. We decided that our friendship and the business comes first. Always.”
I stare at him, processing this. “Okay. But... you like me. Fallon likes me. Knox likes me. Doesn’t that break the rule?”
“That’s the problem.” Eli steps closer, his presence warm in the cold night air. “We’ve never had this happen before. Usually, it’s just one of us interested, or it’s purely physical. This... this is different. All three of us are drawn to you. And it’s not just physical. At least, not for me.”
He stops, looking down at his boots.
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. “So, what does this mean for me? Do you guys think I’m going to be like Mary? Do you think I’m going to play you against each other?”
Eli’s head snaps up, his eyes wide. “God, no. Amber, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“Then what are you saying? Because I’m getting some serious mixed signals here. One minute you’re kissing me, the next Knox is acting like I’m a hazard in the kitchen, and Fallon is,” I wave a hand helplessly, “being Fallon.”
“We’re figuring it out,” he says firmly. “We know you aren’t Mary. You’re honest. You’re hardworking. You’re... you.”
“That doesn’t tell me what you want, Eli.”
He takes a deep breath, stepping into my personal space. He reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers are cold, but his touch is gentle.
“I want you to be happy,” he says softly. “I would never try to make a decision for you. If you want Knox, I’ll step back. If you want Fallon, I’ll step back. If you want none of us, I’ll respect that.”
My heart stutters. “It’s that simple?”
“No.” He shakes his head, a sad smile touching his lips. “It’s not simple at all. Because I’m selfish, Amber.”
“Selfish how?”
“Because if you ever make a decision that you only want one person...” He pauses, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m going to beg you to choose me.”
The air rushes out of my lungs. “Eli...”
“I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you,” he confesses. “And it scares the hell out of me. Not because of the rule, but because I know how good Knox and Fallon can be. And I know they feel it too.”
I look up at him, stunned. Love. The word hangs there, suspended in the freezing air between us.
He leans down and kisses me. It’s soft, gentle, careful. His lips are warm against mine, moving with a reverence that makes my knees weak.
I kiss him back, pouring my own confusion and longing into it.
I pull back slightly, resting my forehead against his. I breathe him in, the scent of sugar and vanilla. But beneath that, there’s something else. An undercurrent in his scent that I haven’t noticed before.
It’s sour.
Fear.
He’s terrified. He’s terrified I won’t pick him. He’s terrified that this new dynamic he’s craved is going to leave him alone.
“I don’t know what I want, Eli,” I whisper honestly. “This is all so new. My past is... complicated. I’m still trying to figure out how to be me, let alone how to be part of a pack.”
“I know,” he says, his voice rough. “Take your time. We aren’t going anywhere.”
He pulls away, tucking his hands back into his pockets. The distance feels physical, a sudden chill where his warmth used to be.
“Get home safe, okay?” he says. “Text me when you get inside.”
“I will.”
He stands there, watching as I climb into the driver’s seat. I start the engine, the heater sputtering to life. I look out the window one last time.
He’s still there, a solitary figure under the yellow streetlight, hands in his pockets, watching me go.
I shift into drive and pull away, the tires crunching on the snow. I don’t look in the rearview mirror. I can’t.
The drive to Jude’s is a blur. My mind is spinning, replaying Eli’s confession over and over again.
I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you.
And Knox. And Fallon.
What am I supposed to do with that? How do I choose between three men who fit together so perfectly, yet offer me something different?
Knox makes me feel safe and challenged. Fallon makes me feel alive and seen. Eli makes me feel cherished.
I need to talk to someone. Someone who isn’t Jude. Someone who knows the old me, the broken me, and the new me.
I park, pull out my phone, and scroll through my contacts until I see her name.
Stella.
She’s in London, eight hours ahead, but I don’t care. I press the call button and hold the phone to my ear.
It rings twice before she picks up. “Amber? Is everything okay? It’s the middle of the night here.”
“Stel,” I breathe out, and suddenly the tears are pricking my eyes. “I have never been more confused in my entire life.”
There’s a rustle on the other end, like she’s sitting up in bed. “Okay. Start from the beginning. Are you safe?”
“I’m safe. I’m just... overwhelmed.” I stare out the windshield at the dark house. “Remember how I said I wanted to build a wall? How I wanted to be independent?”
“Yeah?”
“I think three guys just showed up with sledgehammers.”
Stella laughs, a sleepy, knowing sound. “Oh, boy. Tell me everything.”
The tightness in my chest loosens, just a little. Even though I have no idea what I’m going to do, I don’t have to figure it out alone.