Page 17 of Knot Only For One Night

“I’m so glad you could meet so soon,” he says, and I melt a bit at the sound of his voice. “I’m more of an in-person kind of guy.”

“Me too,” I mumble as he steps in front of me, stepping in line for the front counter.

“Have you been here before? I heard their chocolate chip cookies are really good.”

“This is actually my favorite spot,” I say sheepishly. “You heard right, their cookies are to die for. I could eat one every day, breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“Perfect.” He turns to the counter when it’s our turn. “Let me get five chocolate chip cookies, a chocolate chip croissant, and… a slice of cranberry crumble bar. All to go.”

“Five?” I mutter my eyes darting to the case. That’s… that’s all of them. What if he didn’t want to share? Can I assume they are for the both of us? But five can’t be split evenly. Why five?

“Don’t worry. They're for us,” he says with a wink.

His words make me sigh with release. Thank goodness. I may have cried not getting a taste of my favorite cookie. I already know I have far too many but… could I really go a day without one?

No. I couldn’t.

Is that a problem?

Probably. Oh well.

Neven pays, which is good because I didn’t even think to reach for my wallet. He grabs the yellow boxes with our desserts in them in one large… attractive… hand as I lead us to my favorite spot. A booth along the long wall of windows. The perfect spot to watch the trees along the sidewalk change with the seasons.

They’re still green since it’s only early September, but yellow is sneaking onto the tips of the leaves, and some are even dotting the pavement.

Autumn isn’t far.

Neven settles into the booth, a pleasant if nervous expression on his face. “I’m not quite sure what to ask on a first date…”

There, too, we’re on the same page. It’s not that I’ve never been on a date. It’s that every single one has this awkward phase of wordlessness that I never seem to avoid. I try bringing a list of questions, but that feels interview-y. I try to let conversation flow, but it’s so hard to start.

And yet, I find myself opening up. Maybe it’s the Neven effect.

“First dates are hard. Especially ones like these.”

“‘Like these’?” He sets two cookies on two napkins and slides one across to me.

I break off a small piece and toss it in my mouth. It’s the only way to stop myself from shoving the entire thing in at once.

“This isn’t necessarily a date for… well, regular dating. We have to be quite intimate quite quickly, and that adds another layer to this, at least for me.”

“Me too.” His admission makes it easier to breathe. He’s not expecting to jump to bed right away, which was my fear. I can’t—don’t trust people with something so vulnerable, such as my body, and I… I can’t let my first time be any more uncomfortable than it already will be.

For a long time, I wanted to get rid of my virginity before my first heat so I wouldn’t have the pressures of my first heat and my first time weighing me down. I just never… found someone I was close enough with to open myself up.

I always broke up with them before we could get to that part.

“Since you brought it up, I did want to say, I hope you know—” He cuts himself off with a laugh, seemingly more at himself before he continues. “I wanted to talk about your expectations. Now, this is only a first date. I’d like to see you a couple more times, if you’d like, before we commit. Ensure you are comfortable before we… well, yeah. But that will depend on you and your timeline.” Neven has dark skin, so he’s not quite blushing, but his shoulders cave in a bit and his smile is wide as his eyes cast down.

He’s so cute when he’s nervous.

Heat radiates from my cheeks. He’s so kind, and soft, and perfect. My omega is ready to purr at his words, and I choke a bit trying to stop myself from doing so in the middle of the shop. “Um, thank you,” I mutter, not sure what else to say.

“Of course! I hope no one has been rushing you, regardless of how long we’ve dated, or… or whatever. You can always say no. Anytime. This is your heat.”

“I… I only have the small symptoms. Heatflash, cramps, scent…” I clear my throat and break off another piece of cookie. “Small… bouts of…uh…”

Juni could bake these delicious cookies with just the mortified heat singeing my face. Is there a way to reswallow those words? No?