"Ready."
Chapter 17
Bea
Walking into Bella Notte feels like stepping onto a stage where everyone already knows my lines.
The restaurant is beautiful—warm lighting, exposed brick, white tablecloths that scream "romantic occasion." And here I am, walking in with three alphas whose combined scents are already making heads turn.
Every conversation in the place stutters. I catch a woman elbowing her date, nodding toward us. An older couple openly stares. The hostess's professional smile falters for just a second before she smooths it back into place.
Right. Because this is normal. Four people on a date. Nothing to see here.
"Relax," Grayson murmurs against my ear, his hand finding the small of my back. His touch burns through the thin fabric of my wrap top. "Let them look."
Easy for him to say. He's not the omega walking into a fancy restaurant with three alphas broadcasting their interest like a neon sign.
River steps forward, all easy charm as he gives our name to the hostess. She leads us through the restaurant, and I'mhyperaware of every eye tracking our progress. The whispers start before we even reach our table.
The booth she shows us to is tucked in a corner—intimate, private, and definitely meant for romance. River slides in first, his blue eyes locked on me with unmistakable intent.
"Where do you want to sit, sweetheart?" Seth asks, and there's something in his voice that makes it clear this matters. That where I choose says something.
I look between them—Seth standing close enough that I can feel his warmth, Grayson still at my back with his hand on my spine, River already seated and watching me like I'm dessert.
"I'll sit in the middle," I say, which is either the best or worst decision I could make.
Seth slides in beside River. I follow, and Grayson boxes me in on the other side. The booth is cozy—intimate—which means I'm pressed between two alphas while a third sits close enough that our knees touch under the table.
Grayson's thigh is against mine, solid and warm. Seth's arm brushes my shoulder as he settles. River's knee presses between both of mine from across the table, a deliberate claim of space that makes my breath catch.
I can smell all three of them. River's pine and sawdust mixing with Seth's clean rain and cedar, Grayson's ink and leather and spice wrapping around me from behind. My cinnamon-apple scent responds without permission, going warm and sweet with interest.
"Wine?" the waiter asks, appearing with perfect timing.
"Please. Red. The biggest glass you have."
River's mouth twitches. "Peroni for me."
"Same," Seth says.
"Three," Grayson adds, and his hand lands on my thigh under the table.
I nearly jump out of my skin.
His thumb starts tracing patterns just above my knee—slow, deliberate circles that shouldn't feel as intimate as they do. When I glance at him, he's studying the menu like he's not currently driving me insane.
The waiter leaves. Silence settles over the table, but it's not comfortable. It's charged. Waiting.
"So," River says finally, leaning back with that easy grin that doesn't quite hide the intensity in his eyes. "We should probably address the elephant in the room."
My stomach drops. "What elephant?"
"The fact that you let Grayson?—"
"Nope." I grab my water glass. "We're not talking about that."
"—taste you," River finishes, and heat floods my face so fast I might actually combust. "And now you're sitting here with all three of us, smelling like you want a repeat performance."
