Knot Broken (Hiddenverse)

20. Lilah

CHAPTER 20

Lilah

The engine revs beneath me as I teasingly push on the gas and brake at the same time. I glance over at the three of them lined up next to me and grin, my heart pounding in my chest.

“You’re going down, boys,” I say, gesturing with two fingers from my eyes to them.

Rafe looks at me like he wants to go down, but not in the way I’m talking about. Heat rushes to my face, and I squirm in my seat at the imagery of him on his knees. Maybe I should lose. The thought is brief and discarded as soon as the light goes from red to yellow to green.

Putting the pedal to the metal, I fly off the starting line, laughing freely as they come up behind me. As we take the first turn, Elliott edges past me, his kart brushing close enough to make my pulse spike. Miles is right behind him, his determined expression almost comical. I push my foot against the gas pedal, taking the curve a little faster than I normally would, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Once we straighten out, I give a little wave as I pass them both again. The race continues that way, and I think I laugh harder than I have in a long time. Maybe what I needed all along to feel like myself again was to act like a kid. Whatever this feeling is, I want to embrace it, hold onto it tight.

On the last lap, when Elliott takes the lead, I let up off the gas, my heart doing a strange flip. I’ve had a few flirty conversations with him, but now I realize I might want something more. My stomach twists as he flies over the finish line, and I seriously just let him win.

As I come to a stop next to him, he’s already removing his helmet, a grin plastered on his face. He climbs out and kneels down to my level next to my go-kart, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that makes me catch my breath.

“Looks like I won the grand prize.” He grins widely, watching me intently.

“I’m pretty sure she let you win,” Miles grumbles, like a kid who didn’t get the last treat, as he climbs out of his mini-vehicle.

Suppressing a smile, I glance between them. “I told you I was good.”

“I think we should all get that time with you, since you clearly didn’t try to win,” Rafe says, his voice closer than I expect, sending a shiver down my spine.

I fumble with the strap of my helmet, my fingers trembling slightly. Elliott easily reaches over and unclips it, lifting it from my head and smoothing my hair down in the sweetest gesture. I swear I’m a puddle of warm feelings when he stands back up and offers me a hand. The idea of being away from the cameras with each of them sounds like a dangerous idea.

One that I’m almost too willing to agree to. Shit. What am I doing?

Not taking the pill or wearing the lotion. Taunting Rafe until he was on the edge. Now this—do I want these men for myself? Oh, fuck me. I think I do. No, I know I do .

As I stand up, accepting Elliott’s hand, I catch sight of one of the film crew lingering near the corner of the track. My breath hitches. The guy—tall, with a camera slung over his shoulder—watches me, his gaze a little too sharp, a little too knowing. Panic flutters in my chest. Does he know? Can he tell I didn’t use my blockers?

Suddenly, this show’s about more than proving to the world that I’m not broken. It’s about proving to myself that I’m not, by going after a future I thought I never wanted. I can’t go home. That’s admitting to the world I am broken, that I let Jared and Tabby damage me beyond repair.

“I think that’s fair,” I say, taking Elliott’s offered hand and climbing out of the go-kart. “I’m obviously better at racing than you three,” I add playfully, forcing myself to focus on the moment and not the fear creeping up my spine.

“Better than Rafe, for sure,” Miles jokes. He runs his fingers through his hair, and it falls into place effortlessly.

Laughing, I glance at Rafe. “He’s like a Koopa with a Super Glider.”

Rafe huffs out a sound that’s between exasperation and a laugh. “You play Mario Kart ?”

“I’m the best at that too,” I say with a grin, but my thoughts are still on the cameraman, his gaze burning into the back of my head. I keep my expression light, but inside, I’m praying no one notices anything off.

Catching sight of the cameras, the weight of the situation presses down on me again. My smile falters as I follow Miles over to the mini-golf shack. It's easy to forget they're there, recording our every move. Is this what Ashlyn means when she says the cameras don’t bother her? She just tunes them out, no longer seeing them as a threat?

Elliott falls into step next to me, his hand brushing the back of mine, sending a tingle up my arm. I want to tangle my fingers with his, but a part of me hesitates, knowing that every gesture is being watched. “You probably shouldn’t challenge Rafe when it comes to Mario Kart, he’s pretty good,” he says, his voice light but teasing.

“I can think of a few bets I’d like to win,” Rafe adds suggestively, his gaze heated.

Picking up a putter, I force a playful smile. “I’m pretty good at mini-golf too.”

Miles grabs a green handle and picks up a scoring sheet and pencil. “Sounds like another opportunity for alone time,” he says with a wink.

My stomach somersaults at his words, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Okay, but no blockers.”

What am I saying? Oh crap. I’m deeper in this than I thought. Not only am I breaking the rules, but now I’m asking them to as well.

Elliott’s fingers trail up my arm, the warmth of his body close enough that I can feel him at my back. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “Is that why you smell so fucking good today? No blockers?”

Tingles flow down my spine, and my heart pounds in my chest. His nose grazes my neck as he inhales deeply.

“Mmm, you’re a naughty omega,” he purrs, and the way he says it makes my toes curl. High-definition cameras are probably picking up on every single reaction I’m having, especially how hard my nipples just got. I bite down on my lower lip, trying to stay focused as my lashes brush my cheeks, holding back a whimper.

I step away from his warmth, spinning back toward the three of them with an unsteady grin. “We have a game to get to.”

They each watch me with varying looks of need that have my heart doing acrobatics and slick gathering between my legs. Attempting to ignore it, I back up two steps before turning on my heel and leading the way to the mini-golf course.

I lean against the post that reads ‘Hole 1’ and gesture to the starting mat. “I’ll let you guys go first, so you aren’t discouraged by my abilities.”

“Eli can go first,” Miles says, moving aside to give him room. “But I think we need to make this even more competitive. How about for each hole in one we make, we get to make a request of whoever we want.”

I tilt my head to the side and tap my lips as if I’m deep in thought. Then I nod. “Deal. But camera-friendly.”

Elliott chuckles, dropping his green ball to the middle dot. He stands over it, his putter looking too short for him, and wiggles his butt jokingly as he lines up his shot. Then, with a smooth tap, the ball rolls down the straightaway, bounces off the back wall, and goes straight into the hole.

“Nice,” Rafe cheers.

“Just the first of many,” Elliott replies. He steps over the frame block of the first course and closes the distance between us. “Time to pay up for the first hole.”

My lips part as his hand lands on my hip, drawing me closer with ease. The breath freezes in my lungs as his eyes dip to my lips.

“Think you can handle my expert putting?” He winks at me suggestively, clearly joking, but there’s a deeper intensity in his gaze that makes it hard to breathe.

A bark of surprised laughter punches from my lungs, and he grins down at me. It’s like slow motion as he closes the distance between us. Then his soft lips press against mine in the barest touch. And although he doesn’t deepen it, electricity flows between us. My heart races inside my chest as if it needs to replace the blood that has left my head, making me lightheaded. My fingers curl into his shirt, tugging him closer, and for a moment, I forget everything except how good this feels.

With a groan, he pulls back, ending the kiss before it turns into something less PG. He swipes his tongue along his lower lip, as if he can still taste me, then brushes a stray hair away from my face and behind my ear. The tenderness of the gesture almost undoes me, but he steps back before I can pull him in again.

Rafe moves into position to putt, and I force myself to focus as his ball taps the back wall, barely bouncing off before coming to a stop on the wrong side of the tiny hill. I purse my lips, holding back a smile at his curse. Miles doesn’t do much better with his first shot, and neither do I.

By the time we’re on the sixth hole, Rafe is losing badly. I guess he isn’t that good at mini-golf. Miles has come close to a hole-in-one twice, while Elliott’s first shot is starting to look like beginner’s luck.

“I thought you said you were good at this,” Rafe says as I drop my pink ball to the mat. “Or do you want Elliott to win everything?”

I glance up at him. He’s leaning against the lighthouse in the center of the course, watching me. “I’m not the only one that sucks, apparently,” I shoot back.

He flashes his white teeth at me in amusement, then walks toward me on the fake green grass. “Are you saying you need help?”

He comes to a stop in front of me, his eyes dropping to the ball at his feet before slowly trailing from my Vans up to my face.

“I think it’s your stance,” he says before circling around me. His arms wrap around me, and I forget how to think. Then his fingers run over mine, still holding the putter, and he nudges my foot with his. “That’s it. Loosen up.”

I’m pretty sure I can’t be any looser as I melt into him. All of this is probably for the cameras for him, but I eat it up. Maybe I’m more touch-starved than I thought. My perfume’s out of control, and I’ll be surprised if his whole outfit doesn’t smell like me now. Yet, part of me wants that. It wants to brand him as mine.

My head’s not focused on the mini-golf or the putting as he swings our arms and taps the ball. It rolls down the path and straight into the lighthouse, going out the other side and easily into a hole-in-one. It’s then that I realize he has been holding back. Intentionally not getting hole-in-ones. Did he lose on purpose at the race earlier too?

He releases me and steps back. “Looks like it’s your turn to make a request.”

I roll my lips together as my insides twist into a giant knot. Keeping it light and not calling him out, I say, “I haven’t kissed Miles yet.”

Rafe rolls his eyes and steps back, looking over at Miles. “Guess I need to win some requests of my own.”

My lips kick up at his sulky tone, but I turn toward Miles. He runs his fingers through his black silky hair as he steps forward into my space. He gently grips my throat in his large hand, using his thumb to tilt my head up with a soft pressure beneath my chin. His blue eyes flash with contained lust that makes me want to squirm. The whole world falls away as he lowers his face, brushing his lips over mine before capturing them fully.

His tongue runs over the seam, demanding entrance.

His kiss lights a fire inside of me, and I know he feels it too. His fingers tighten slightly on my throat, adding a delicious pressure I’m sure isn’t meant for TV. Yet, I don’t pull back. No, I lean into him, giving him the control he silently asks for.

He’s so quiet and sweet, and this is different. Almost as if he has another side to him. One that needs complete control over the situation. Once he feels my submission, he loosens his hold on my throat and cups the back of my neck, drawing me closer.

Intense, wanton need surges through me, and my fingers dive into his hair, deepening our kiss further. If it’s too much for TV, they can cut it because there’s no way I’m not kissing this man in the way he demands.

Pheromones flow off of me, and there’s no way anyone in the area doesn’t know I didn’t take my blockers. He growls low in his throat, and it goes straight between my legs.

Just when I’m positive I’m going to wrap my legs around him and hang on like a monkey on a jungle gym, Rafe clears his throat.

“Miles, she said kiss, not fuck,” he says drily.

It’s like a dousing of ice-cold water over my head, and I pull back. My cheeks are on fire. That escalated quickly. These men are addictive, even without scenting them. They could be betas, and I’d still want them.

“Wow, uh,” I breathe out as Miles releases the back of my neck and steps back. What do you say after a kiss like that?

He purses his lips as they twist into a smile. “Yeah,” he agrees.

For a moment, everything feels so intense, but then I catch sight of the cameras again. It sobers me a little, and I wonder if they caught all that. The danger of being found out flickers in the back of my mind, but with these three, it’s hard to stay worried for long. The thrill of the game, the feel of their attention—it’s all consuming.

“Who’s up next?” I ask, trying to shake off the feeling of eyes on me.