Page 46 of Knot Forgotten

As quietly as I can, I slip out of my room and move over to the small table to watch him cook unguarded. His shoulders are loose, and he is humming a song under his breath. His blond hair unruly as he bounces on his heels to the tune of whatever song he has in his head.

While I’m admiring the man he’s become, Matt sinks into the chair across from me.

“Morning,” he whispers, pulling Cam’s attention away from the stovetop. Matt’s hair is held back with a thin headband, which seems to be his go-to now. But I absolutely love the curls that frame his head and how long he’s let his hair get.

“Good morning,” I say, feeling my cheeks darken with a blush as I glance between them and see Cameron’s reaction to being watched. He likes it. I can tell by the light in his eyes, even if the tilt of his lips is only slightly above a smirk.

“How long have you been there?” Cam asks, pointing his flipping fork at me.

“Long enough that I’m pretty sure you were humming and dancing to one of those old nineties grunge bands songs.”

“Pearl Jam is not old,” he grumbles.

I laugh. “Considering they became a band thirteen years before you were even thought of, I think that makes them old.”

“Careful, Rinny, you are talking about Cam and Blake’s idols,” Matt teases, clearly on my side.

“Who is my idol?” Blake asks, appearing from the hallway. He has a gift bag in his hands, colorful paper sticking cheerfully from the top. He sets the bag down in front of me and drops a kiss to my forehead. “For you.”

“You might want to take that back before she opens it,” Cam says as he faces the stove again. “She is calling Pearl Jam old.”

“Rinny, my heart.” Blake grips his chest. “You can’t call them old if they are still producing music.”

I chuckle. “Oh okay, that is the bar?”

Blake scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. “It is. Now open your gift.”

He perches on the seat next to mine. Before I can reach for it, Riley comes out of the bathroom drying his hair with a towel. Sweats hang low on his hips, showing a tantalizing peek at the line of muscle that disappears beneath them. He smiles softly at me as he hangs the towel over the last empty seat and drops into it.

‘Morning,’ he signs. ‘Sleep well?’

I nod before signing, ‘Better than I have in days.’

‘Good,’ he signs, and leans back in the chair, looking for all the world as if it could be a throne.

All of them seem to be taking this courting thing seriously. And it is strange and awkward. Is it bad I just want my guys back? The ones I could have races to a watering hole with during the summer months or go sledding with in the winter.

I capture my lower lip between my teeth as I glance between the four of them. Are we really having breakfast? Is this a thing? Cam plates the bacon, all different levels of done from the floppy kind that I remember Matt loves to all the way crispy I’ve always loved. Then he proceeds to cook up some eggs in the bacon grease. Serving up the first to me with a side of toast.

Self consciously, I dip part of the toast into the yoke, breaking it before soaking it up and taking a bite. All of them watch me, and I chew the single bite of tasty bread and swallow, covering my mouth with my fingers.

“Can we just be normal?” I ask. Because I will not last long with all of this, whatever it is.

“Normal? I don’t think any of us are normal,” Matt replies, laughing at the idea with a shake of his head.

“My normal is giving you things,” Blake says, nodding at the gift bag I still didn’t open.

“I am normal,” Riley says with a grin—after putting his implants in and turning them on—that says he is anything but normal. He might have only said good morning, but him being here instead of wherever he normally is…that is different.

Cam is silent as he finishes up breakfast for the guys. Then plates himself a pair of eggs. He turns back to the table, and making a quick decision, he plops the plate down next to mine before scooping me up and taking my chair. He settles me in his lap, his arm loosely holding my hip, while the other arranges our plates.

“This doesn’t feel natural?” Cam asks, dipping his own toast into his egg. “I think you are exactly where you belong.”

My stomach dips, warmth filling my entire body as I relax in his lap. There is no reason I can’t enjoy this. Right?

After my eggs are gone, and my bacon has been devoured, Blake nudges the gift bag again.

“Open it,” he says.

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