Page 31 of Knot Forgotten

Every single part of me wants him inside me. And I am almost way past the point of no return.

A sharp knock sounds on the door, and it is like a bucket of ice water when I hear Blake through the door. “Finish up, class is soon.”

Finish up? Did Cameron have this planned? Is this part of their torture? A new game. I release my fingers from his hair when he sighs against me. My cheeks heat, and I know they will be red even in the dim light of the supply closet. There is no easy way out of this. My clothes are half on, his dick is still hanging out, as thick as ever, pre-cum dripping from the tip.

“Rin,” Cam says.

I shake my head mutely as my eyelashes brush my cheeks. Nope. We are not doing this. He backs up, the absence of his heat evident even with my eyes squeezed shut.

“Finish up?” I choke. “Oh, don’t worry, we are done. Don’t touch me again.”

Quickly, I yank my leggings back onto my leg and then up without meeting his eyes. He is kneeling in front of me, his eyes locked on my face in a way that burns through me. Embarrassment rushes over me like a dam breaking loose. I smooth my shirt down and pick my backpack back up. I’m not sure when I dropped it.

My mind races as my eyes land on the shut door. Do I go out there and face Blake’s smug look? Or do I stay here and hide until Cam is long gone? A swallow works my dry throat. I can’t stand to be in his presence a moment longer.

“Rinny–”

The pleading look on his face and the sound of my nickname falling from his lips makes my decision for me. I dart around him and out the door. Blake falls back, surprise on his face, but I don’t hesitate in my escape.

CHAPTER 15

Erin

The smell of Cameron clings to me. No matter how many times I wash my hands, all I can smell is a spring day after a storm. Hell, he's on my clothes, too.

It's a hopeful scent, even with my tumultuous emotions. It is such a contradiction that I can't concentrate.

I slam my book shut and sigh. I'm not getting any studying done right now. A beta a few tables over glares at me, and I know it's time to leave the library.

The fact that I would be perfuming around the four of them since I've arrived—if I wasn’t using lotion and blockers—isn’t lost on me. It's drastically different than before when I didn’t need to use lotion at all and had no worries of perfuming. I had thought I was broken, my hormones non-existent, when it was really that no alphas interested me. It's always been them.

I'm not sure what awaits me back at the dorm, so I make a stop at Baldwin, pretending like I have an appetite. I pick out an apple before sinking into a booth in the corner.

I bring the apple up to my mouth and catch another whiff of pure Cameron. My stomach dips, and my mouth dries up around the bite I've just taken. Choking down the tasteless apple, I give in and bring my fingers up to my nose, inhaling deeply.

Cameron. My Cam.

What if the closet didn't actually mean anything?

Blake did look shocked when I came out. But that could just mean he frequents the supply closet…which didn't make sense with the dorm a block away. And he expected a random girl to emerge. I’m not going to lie, that makes my blood boil. Does he take Willow in there?

Ugh.

I slump back into the booth and flick my gaze over the other students in the dining hall. Matt exits the food line with a tray of food. He takes my breath away, looking so at ease and relaxed. Glancing around, he goes rigid when his eyes land on me.

Pressing my lips together, I tear my attention from him and stare at the table and unfinished apple. A pang of longing for his steady kindness fills me. It is a need that is growing inside my chest. He is a casualty to all of this because he cares, or at least he did before everything that happened with Riley.

Now, I’m not sure how he feels. I risk lifting my gaze back up to find him in the same place watching me. When our eyes meet and lock, he looks as if he’s made a decision. His jaw pulses and his lips go flat, then he is striding toward me.

My heart gallops in my chest, planning an escape through my throat the closer he gets.

“Hey,” he says softly.

I blink, words stuck inside. “Hey.” I finally manage hesitatingly.

He gestures to the other side of the booth. “Do you mind?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s open. I’m not very popular.”

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