Knot So Lucky (Select-A-Mate #2)

CHAPTER 1

WINDY

Cedar Hill is boring as fuck.

The only reason I haven’t moved to the city, two hours away, is my best friend, Remi. She makes this place bearable. Without her, I’d leave and never look back. I wasn’t made for small towns. I crave lights and action, always seeking to put myself out there and live fully.

You only have one life. There aren’t any second chances.

There’s no point in worrying about missed opportunities.

You have to go for it, whether that means taking a trip, buying the dress, or even making a mistake with someone you shouldn’t.

It’s your job to live fully the first time.

Don’t let anyone or anything dull your shine.

This small town feels like the walls are closing in on me. They’re always a little too close, and it feels like the air is sucking out of the box surrounding me. Every morning that I wake up, I crave the city's pulse. I want the noise. I want something to happen at every street corner.

I want a place where I can disappear without the need to lie about who I am.

Remi is here, though.

I’d miss Remi like crazy if I left. It’s been us for so long, I barely know how to function without her. That changes everything—she makes Cedar Hill feel like a worn-in sweater. The thought of leaving or losing her tightens my chest.

Even when I remember why I stay, I can’t calm the restless feeling inside me. It’s always there, buzzing under my skin, reminding me I want more than these quiet, predictable streets. I want to feel anonymous and alive at the same time. That longing for something bigger never goes away.

So, for now, I stay. My life revolves around Remi; she’s the force that keeps me here.

I can feel myself slipping, though, especially since Remi might’ve found her scent-match mates.

At least, I hope so. Every omega deserves to have her alphas, her mates.

Remi deserves it most of all. She is one of the kindest, strongest omegas I know.

She’s been through so much in her life, and I think she deserves this break, and this might be her one shot.

“Wow, that’s so thorough!” I say, my hand rests on my cheek as I listen. “I mean, it’s not like those random dating apps where you’re just left to flounder. This feels like … matchmaking with a Ph.D.”

“Exactly!” she exclaims, thrilled that I get it. “It’s designed to filter out the noise and focus on genuine compatibility. I think that’s why it works—they don’t just throw people together and hope for the best. They’re invested in the outcome.”

“I wonder what it would be like to go through something like that. To have someone completely invested in finding your perfect match? It sounds like a fairytale but with actual science behind it,” I gush, practically giddy for my best friend.

She’s strong enough for this, but that app still terrifies me.

She’s going on a date tonight with the website’s chosen pick for her. I have a good feeling about this. With the way she’s gushing over it, I can tell she’s excited, too. For so long, she’s been on her own. I can tell she doesn’t want to be alone anymore. I hope this pack can help her with that.”

She chuckles, sipping her coffee. “It feels like a mix of fate and logic, honestly. Like, they’re using data and algorithms to guide the universe’s hand.”

“Conflict resolution styles?” I shake my head. “That’s intense. Did you feel like you were being psychoanalyzed?”

“Yes,” she admits with a grin. “But it wasn’t invasive. It made me think deeply about myself, like what I truly want and need from someone. It’s not just about finding a partner—it’s about learning who you are, too.”

“I love that.” I sit back, smiling brightly. “It’s like self-discovery wrapped in romance. You know, this program might just be revolutionary.” My gaze meets hers.” I think it will. And when it does, I’m going to throw you the biggest celebration ever.”

Even as I congratulate Remi, I feel hollow inside, almost as if part of me is disappearing while her life moves forward. I can’t help but feel left behind.

After leaving her house, I make my way toward my car. My thoughts are all over the place, making it hard to focus on one thing in particular. It’s hard to keep up pretenses when I’m legitimately so far from okay, it’s not even funny.

I want a pack. I want someone to want me for who I am, not just for what I can offer. Most days, it feels like people, especially men, only take what they want for themselves. It’s never about what I want, only what I can give. And always for a price.

The night is cool, but not too cold. It’s just right. But I can tell that it’s getting closer to the end of fall here in Cedar Hill. It’s so close to the time when everything is dead and jagged like a skeleton.

I’m so lost in thought, my mind jumping from worry to worry, barely registering the gravel under my shoes. My thoughts keep spiraling, mostly focused on things I’m afraid to say out loud.

Leaving.

All I can think about is being somewhere else. If I could, I’d slip out of this small town like smoke. Possibilities spin through my mind, making me dizzy. For a moment, I swear I can almost feel the city humming beneath my feet instead of this quiet.

My hand is just touching the door handle when I notice something out of the corner of my eye.

I flick my gaze up, seeing a sleek sedan roll into view past the hedge.

An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach at the sight.

It’s too nice for this street. There are only modest houses, some small and some medium, that aren’t built from extreme wealth.

Shiny paint. Polished rims. Windows tinted so dark that they look like mirrors.

I’m halfway turned toward my car as I watch it creep closer.

One second, then two, I squint my eyes to try to see inside.

I can’t see anything, though. Not a face.

Not a silhouette. All I see is the glare of the streetlight shining. I am tense and still.

Whoever this is don’t belong here. Not on this street, not in front of Remi’s house. Suspicion radiates from the car. The hair on my arms stands up; my body senses something wrong.

But hesitation and confusion give way to another emotion altogether.

My eyebrows furrow in anger as something in me hardens. I don’t move, but that doesn’t mean I won’t throw down if anyone thinks to pull something funny. I turn to stare the car down, letting every single ounce of don’t-fuck-with-me-and-mine shine through my glare.

Seeing that car causes a feeling to settle inside me.

I’ll be damned if I show it. It’s this strange sensation, like ants crawling under my skin.

Instincts warn me. The street looks much the same: house after house, white picket fences, and green lawns mowed to within an inch of their lives.

It’s quiet. Harmless. Yet I can’t shake this uneasy feeling.

It lingers. Heavy and cold. I can barely breathe normally.

For several seconds, the car and I face off.

It isn’t until I take a step toward it, fully set on confronting whoever is in the car.

The engine gives a low, throaty hum. It jerks forward, tires catching on the pavement as it takes off down the street.

Then, suddenly, it speeds up even more. I glance back at Remi’s house before looking back at the car.

I just see its taillights as it speeds around the corner and out of sight.

That entire interaction was weird. Now I don’t want to leave Remi, but I know she’s about to go on a date with her potential mates.

I don’t want to jeopardize that. I want her to go out, have a good time with them, and hopefully find her happily ever after.

The only things she does are read, work, stay at home, or hang out with me.

She doesn’t get out and live her life. Besides me, Sip-A-Brew is her life.

I feel a lingering unease as I settle into my car to head home.

I slide into the driver’s seat, taking a steady breath to calm my nerves.

I carefully reverse out of her driveway and then accelerate down the street.

The only light shining in the dark is the lamp posts.

Each snippet of light flashes over my car as I lose myself in the automation of driving a route I’ve taken a million times before.

As I drive home toward my neighborhood, I still feel tense. My thoughts keep spinning: what did that car mean? Could Remi be in danger? Each question feels more urgent than the last, and I can’t shake the protective worry settling over me.

When it comes to Remi, I’m very overprotective.

I’m protective of all my friends, but Remi is where it’s at.

We’ve been tight since long before the other women came into the picture.

Running into them was a pleasant surprise, but one that stayed with Remi and me.

We grew our group to five, and we haven’t looked back since.

Each woman came around in their own time, Dayla being the last added to our clique.

While Remi may be my ride-or-die, those women are my people.

I won’t let anything happen to them. But even I’ll admit that it was weird and left a lasting impression.

On my way home, I drive past Sip-A-Brew.

I glance over, seeing the light still on inside.

Its neon sign buzzes faintly against the night haze.

For a second, just fleeting, I think about stopping in and getting a cup of coffee.

It’ll give me a chance to breathe, to not feel like I’m unraveling at the seams. I always feel this way when I’m by myself, and there is no distraction. But I keep going without stopping.

Today has been a long day, and I don’t feel like keeping up pretenses anymore.

And I know if I stop there, the barista, Chris, will ask me what’s wrong.

She knows I don’t stop in there for just any reason when Remi isn’t there.

So, I keep going, slow and steady as I make my way down the street.

The road curves, familiar and empty, and I follow it on autopilot.

My hands hang loosely on the wheel. My mind keeps drifting.

When the last light turns red, I ease to a stop and let the car settle around me.

My body relaxes on a sigh. I lean my head back against the headrest. My hands fall to my lap as my entire body sags. The leather is cool. Grounding. My breath slips out in a long, shaky exhale. I let it go. Everything drains out of me until there’s nothing left.

For a long moment, I sit there slumped in my seat with my eyes closed.

I feel the weight of the day press down on me.

The silence in the car helps me gather my thoughts, but it’s thick enough to swallow me whole.

I let it. I don’t have the strength to fight it right now.

Even if I did, I don’t want to fight the way the stress I’m carrying in my body releases until I feel blessedly numb.

My life isn’t actually dull. Far from it, actually. I’m not someone who’s content to stay in a small town. I want something bigger and better. But I’d never leave Remi behind. She’s the only reason I stay. Even our other friends don’t influence me the way she does.

My whole body is loose, like it’s unclenched after carrying the weight of the day on my shoulders.

For a moment, there’s nothing but the hum of my car and the sound of my breathing.

I try to blank my mind to release the tension.

It works for a moment. But only a moment.

The worries of my life try to push against the boundary of my mind.

Even so, I try to drain the day out of me.

Every conversation, every demand, every little thing that claws at my nerves.

I try to forget it all.

At that moment, my phone dings with a message.

“Just great,” I mumble, opening my eyes and glaring at my purse.

The sound slices through the calm I’m barely holding onto.

A long, weary sigh leaves me as I reach for my purse.

I fish my phone out of the inner pocket to see who it is.

I already know it’s one of two people, and I really hope it’s the latter.

A message from Remi would be really welcome right now, if a little far-fetched considering where she’s going tonight.

When I see who texted me, I groan.

BOSS: A gig tonight. In the city. If you want it.

I don’t.

God, I really don’t.

The thought of going anywhere except my home is daunting. I’d have to get dressed up, drive all the way into the city, and then spend the night gushing over a man who is paying me for the honor. The thought makes my shoulders sag even deeper into my seat.

Then again, the alternative doesn’t sound any more pleasing.

Going home. Sitting in the quiet and feeling myself rotting from the inside out. Even though I don’t want to, work at least gives me something to push against the boredom of my life. It gives me something to fill the hours, so they don’t swallow me whole.

I drop my hand into my lap with the message still open. My mind weighs my options. Go home and be even more bored or go to work and be bored but make money.

No brainer.

I look at the message again, then type out a response. I’m already pointed in the direction of the city, so I might as well make my time useful and get a few grand out of a couple of hours.

WINDY: Be there soon. Have my black dress and accessories ready.

My phone immediately dings.

BOSS: The client requested that you wear the emerald dress with a few modifications.

I groan. Well, fuck.

Only one person ever requests that dress. I thought I shook him a few months back, but it seems he was just lying low until now.

“Terrific,” I say, dreading this night even more.

I did not have ‘creepy stalker’ on my bingo card for tonight.