Page 109 of Knot Her Beta

He begins to read.

Emily,

I panicked. I needed air. I should have told you that before I left.

I focus on the way his lips wrap around the words as his free hand finds the edge of the desk to hold himself upright.

I didn’t tell you because I couldn’t explain it, and I couldn’t explain it because I was overwhelmed and panicking and didn’t want to mess things up. And then I panicked some more because Leif and Jared knew what to do without hesitating, and I didn’t understand. They fit in the moment when I did not.

My breath catches, but I resist the urge to interrupt, to tell him how much he does belong, because this is what he needs.

As he reads on, he picks up other pieces of torn paper, and I hear how the letter shifts, how it becomes less about my Rut and more about the last year of our lives, about four people, each convinced they were the one who didn’t fit. The one the others were humoring. The one whose presence required ongoing justification.

“And then they fit anyway,” Grady reads, his voice going quiet. “Imperfectly and completely and in a way that they could never fit with anyone else.”

He sets the page down, and his hand stays on it, fingers spread wide across the creased paper. Love shines in his eyes.

As I step forward, he nudges his laptop around, the screen coming back to life, and I read the first line.

They met on a path in the woods and shared a lunch meant for one. But it was not the first time Grady had noticed Emily Wilson, whose silver hair shone like a star, even in the muted light of a rainy March morning. He had seen her walking with her work crew, and he could not look away until she passed from view.

I read the lines that follow, scrolling down the page as I understand how these words had cost their creator sleep, food, the basic maintenance of a body that has been sitting in one position for days without complaint.

Finally, I look at him in wonder. “This is a book.”

Grady’s mouth quirks at one corner. “Seems to be.”

“You’re writing a story about us?”

“It’s only the first few chapters.” He gestures at the laptop and the stacks of paper. “I have a lot to organize.”

I step closer, my hand finding his waist. “You’re writing a book.”

“I’m writing a book,” he agrees, appearing flustered by the admission as his hand comes up to rest on my shoulder. “A certain person encouraged me to do so, and I thought this was a good place to start. I’m not sure what to call it yet.”

I lean down to nuzzle his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

A blush creeps into his cheeks. “You can read it when it’s done, if you want.”

“I want.” A purr starts up in my chest, and I want nothing more than to lay him out on the nearby sofa.

But we still have more to resolve between us.

With reluctance, I let him go. “We need to talk about Saturday night.”

“We do,” Grady says without the same hesitation. “I didn’t understand what was happening when your…lock? Is that right?”

I nod.

His blush returns. “When your lock engaged, the pressure was sudden and so intense that I tensed up, and my leg cramped up. When I couldn’t move, I panicked. Not because of what you were doing, but because my body was telling me I was trapped, and my brain couldn’t separate the pain from what was happening.”

He takes a shaky breath. “I am sorry I left without explaining. It was cowardly, and you deserved better.” His eyes find mine, steady and clear. “But I’m not forbidding you from ever locking me again. I just need to understand what to expect, and we need to account for my leg.”

“I understand,” I say, relieved he’s not rejecting me. “And I agree. Whatever you need.”

His eyebrows pinch together. “It didn’t happen the first time we were together, so is it only triggered during a Rut?”

“I pulled off before my lock engaged the first time,” I admit. “I knew you likely didn’t have experience with female Alphas, and the pressure… Your body isn’t built to accommodate it the way an Omega’s is. Male Alphas aren’t built for it, either, but Jared really enjoys…”