Page 5 of Knot Forgotten

“Uh, forgetting something? I assume this is the only boyfriend you have and will want it back,” Cameron says. His tone is so close to the teasing tone he used to use when we were kids, but his words are mean.

I almost don’t turn around to face him. My heart is already in my throat, and my stomach is alive with butterflies. I slowly turn back toward him, and he is holding up a hot pink dildo. If I thought the panties were bad, this—this is a hundred million times worse. He’s grinning and drawing the attention of everyone within the immediate vicinity.

Can I die now? Seriously, can the earth open up and swallow me whole?

Pressing my lips into a tight line, I step forward and snag it from his hand, unable to say a word as I spin back around on my heel and head for the dorms. Their laughter follows me.

The door shuts between us, and I'm encased in a dim, dark hallway that probably needs maintenance to replace a few lights. But what do I know? It is a comfort after having their eyes on me—watching me, judging me, seeing me.

I follow the signs to a brightly lit hall. The weight of my tote, probably missing a few tops and bottoms, is heavy enough to take my breath the further I travel, and relief fills me as I drop it to the floor in front of my new home. At least for the next two semesters.

Pushing open the door, I find an empty room. A threadbare couch sits in front of a large TV with a gaming system and some controllers. A small round table is behind it, right next to a small kitchenette. It looks nothing like the pictures and could probably use a little maintenance, too.

Two sleek black motorcycle helmets lay on top of the table. Next to them, a few closed notebooks and a textbook are stacked on the surface. The sink is empty of dishes, and take-out containers peek out of the trash next to the full-sized fridge. At least my roommates are clean.

Toeing my tote over the door jam, I nudge the door shut behind me. The excitement of before comes back, and I move away from the entrance and further into the small area. Two shut doors are on the left, and a short, dark hallway next to the second leads to two more open doors.

Without trying the closed doors, I go down the short hallway, the light from the door on the left shining brighter over the floor the closer I get.

One is a basic bathroom, and the other is a room with two beds, two dressers, and two desks with chairs. Half of the room is set up with black comforters and pillows. Very minimalistic. A black and white shaggy rug sits in front of the lofted bed. And a guitar leans against the bedpost. The other is bare, so I return to the other room and grab my stuff, not bothering with the two shut doors. They are probably full anyway.

I make my bed, the mattress squeaking with each movement, and then spread out my rainbow blanket. Propping my teddy bear on top, I survey my progress. Who knew putting on a fitted sheet on a dorm room bed was a workout? Nibbling on my lower lip, I sigh. There are at least two more trips for the rest of my stuff, but the idea of running into any of the four has butterflies tripping over each other in my chest as they try to escape. And dread turning my blood cold.

So, instead, I focus on putting my clothes away and hiding my toy in my small desk drawer. My face flames as I tuck it away. I’m never going to be able to unsee Cameron holding up my battery-operated boyfriend for the whole campus to see.

I'm pulled from my thoughts as voices come from the front room. My roommates have returned.

CHAPTER 2

Erin

The timbre of at least three deep voices runs over my skin and freezes me in my tracks. I’m hearing things, hallucinating. My therapist said it was possible after—I shake my head and steady my breathing as I strain to hear the voices.

It hits me hard as soon as I pick up on Matt’s low voice joining with Blake’s. I swallow. I’m not hearing things. They are my childhood best friends. In my freaking dorm room. What are the chances? Why would they put an omega with a bunch of alphas? It doesn’t make sense. Unless my aunt didn’t declare my designation.

Their laughter carries into the room I’m currently frozen like a statue in, and I glance around for someplace to hide as footsteps sound on the tiled flooring leading down the hallway. Straight toward me. It’s too late as Blake steps into the room, his eyes going wide as if I’m as unexpected in his space as he is in mine. His nostrils flare, probably trying to pick up my designation.

“Man, that chick was hot. Dibs for sure,” Matt’s baritone reaches us, and I flush.

There is obviously not a God because he wouldn’t be this cruel. Would he?

“Nah, too curvy, although she does seem like the easy pushover type I like best,” Cam says like he is contemplating going for me too.

Sounds of someone dropping into a creaking chair and the TV turning on drown out the rest of what he says. I swallow hard, my heart in my throat as tears try to form with the fresh hit of embarrassment his words brought.

“I, uh,” I stutter when Blake drags his eyes up my too-curvy body, apparently. I suck in a shaky breath. “Right–” I gesture between the bed I made and the door, but no words come out.

“What are you doing in my room?” He doesn’t sound angry or upset, only confused. And honestly, I can’t blame him; I’d be the same in his position.

I dangle my key ring with the dorm room key from my fingers. “This is my dorm. Why do you guys talk about girls like they are objects?”

He smiles, and a dimple appears on his left cheek, right in the place I remember. He used to use that to get what he wanted from me. The same feelings I used to have explode in my stomach, making me feel sick.

He lifts a dark eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

Air catches in my lungs as his almost cruel words catch me off guard. My face heats, and my fingers itch to slap him.

“This is my room, and I don’t share…so–” His gaze flicks to the doorway, and he crosses to his bed.

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