Page 42 of Knot Only For One Night

I hold my chuckle at the jealous omega. I really hope this won’t be a problem, though. Settling in the booth, we sit silently for a second, their scents mixing in the air. Caramel and pancakes are strong, and so is… pomegranate.

Oh wow. His scent is strong. And so damn delicious.

Oh my God.

My gaze snaps to his, and I can see the realization in his expression. I raise an eyebrow but he gives me a sharp, single shake of his head, and I’m left stumped for a second.

He’s right. I can’t believe I almost slipped. I peer over at Reed who is fuming still, one arm wrapped around me. His thumb mindlessly rubs my hip.

First, broker peace. Then drop the bomb.

“So, how do you know each other?” I ask the table at large.

“They haven’t told you?” Asher says, glaring at Neven and Reed, who both look sheepish.

Stomach, meet Floor.

“Told me what?” I ask. What are they hiding from me? Is it as big as my current secret?

“We’re part of the same motorcycle club.”

My organs rearranged themselves into proper position. “Oh,” I said with a little giggle. “Gosh, you scared me there. I knew they rode bikes. A club though, that sounds fun.”

Asher leans back against the booth, all nonchalance as he says, “We’re also drug dealers and street fighters.”

I choke on my cookie. Sputtering and coughing and in general making some less-than-dignified noises.

They were what?

“Do that again and I’ll haul your ass to the morgue,” Reed growls to Asher as he rubs my back. I grab Neven's water bottle he's holding out to me. Sip it as my throat stops burning at the clog.

My voice is practically a squeak as I ask, “Are you joking?”

I mean Reed has the tattoos, the anger, sure, but drug dealers?

“Yes,” Reed says at the same time Asher says, “No.”

“No. He’s not joking,” Neven clarifies with a sigh.

And, Jaw, meet Floor.

I quickly close my lips and let the silence eat at our table. Eat at me. I hear a harsh kick under the table, and Asher grimaces and leans down.

“What the hell?” Asher hisses, but Reed is quick to cut him off. Turning to me, he sighs.

“We’re not…It's not like that,” Reed says and I turn my stormy gaze to him.

“Not like what?”

“We’re not like a gang.”

“Then what is it like?”

“We protect the neighborhood.”

“While also selling them weed,” Asher pipes in, and I cross my arms, holding stock still waiting for Reed to explain.

“Clean weed. It's one of our missions. People smoke, who cares? I smoke, Neven smokes, Ash smokes⁠—”