Page 11 of Knot Your Romeo
I nod as every head in the classroom turns toward me, like they are seeing me for the first time. The scrutinizing looks make me sink lower in my seat, wishing I could disappear entirely.
Professor Benson’s smile is kind, though, and something about his calm presence makes me feel slightly less like running.
“We’ll get back to covering the basics of cellular biology this semester,” he continues, “with particular attention to the biological systems that govern Alpha and Omega scents.”
A few students shift uncomfortably at the mention of Alpha/Omega biology, but Professor Benson plows ahead like he didn’t notice.
“We’ve already learned that contrary to popular belief, biological impulses are just that—impulses. They can be strong, certainly, but they’re not hard and fast laws. We always have choices about how we respond to our biology.”
I lean forward, genuinely interested despite my anxiety. This is exactly the information I need—scientific explanations for the things I’ve been experiencing, ways to understand and control my Omega responses.
The door opens twenty minutes into the lecture, and Romeo slides in like he owns the place. He’s changed from his casual clothes into what looks like football practice gear, his hair still damp.
Several female students track his movement with obvious interest, but he ignores them all, taking a seat in the back row. I try not to look at him, focusing instead on Professor Benson’s explanation of pheromone receptors and scent compatibility. But I can feel Romeo’s presence around me and it makes my concentration scatter.
When class ends, I pack my things quickly, hoping to escape to the place I hide out during breaks. But as I head for the door, a deep voice stops me cold.
“Jolie.”
I turn to find Romeo standing directly behind me. Up close, he’s even more overwhelming—all broad shoulders and contained power and those gray eyes that seem to see straight through me.
“We need to talk,” he says, his voice is low enough that the other students can’t hear. “Meet me by the oak tree on the south end of campus after your last class,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken.
“Why?”
He only responds with, “Three o’clock.”
“And if I don’t?”
His smile is sharp and humorless. “Then I’ll find you, anyway.”
He turns, and he’s gone before I can respond, leaving me standing in the emptying classroom with my heart racing and the unmistakable certainty that my life just got infinitely more complicated.
Professor Benson approaches as I stand frozen by the door. “Everything all right, Miss Masters?”
I force a smile. “Fine. Just...adjusting to everything.”
He studies my face with perceptive hazel eyes. “Romeo can be intense. Don’t let him intimidate you.” The fact that he’s noticed the tension between us makes my cheeks burn. “I won’t.”
But as I walk to my next class, Romeo’s words echo in my mind:I’ll find you, anyway.
It sounds less like a threat and more like a promise. And I’m not sure which possibility scares me more.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of lectures and syllabus reviews. I try to focus on my classes, on the normal college experience I gave up a year ago, but my mind keeps drifting to that oak tree and what Romeo wants to discuss.
By the time three o’clock rolls around, I’ve convinced myself that ignoring his demand is the smart choice. Whatever he wants to say, it can’t be anything I need to hear. I’ll find Mr. Sampson,go home to the cottage, and hope Romeo loses interest in whatever game he’s playing.
But as I cross the quad toward the parking area, I catch sight of a familiar figure beneath the massive oak tree at the southern edge of campus. Romeo stands with his back against the trunk, arms crossed, waiting. Even from a distance, his posture looks predatory. The stillness marks him as a dangerous Alpha. He’s not just waiting—he’s hunting.
Does that mean he does smell my scent in a way that pleases his Alpha? I don’t know what I think about that?
It’s not possible. But I have to find out what he wants. If I don’t, I know with absolute certainty that he’ll make good on his threat to find me if I don’t go to him willingly.
Taking a deep breath, I change direction, my feet carrying me across the grass toward what feels like my doom.
Romeo watches my approach with those unsettling gray eyes, his expression unreadable.
“You came,” he says when I’m close enough to hear.
