Page 52 of Knot Forgotten

Matt watches me, concern splashed across his face, his food forgotten in front of him.

“Did you take your medication?” Matt asks once it is clear I’m fully aware again.

I press my lips together, not bothering to ask him how he knows I take medication for anxiety. “Yeah. I think I need a different dose.”

“Is it us? Are we causing your anxiety?” He looks so afraid that my answer will be yes that I shake my head no.

“Of course not,” I say, clearing my throat of leftover emotion.

His mouth tightens into a frown. “It is. I can tell. You keep forgetting that we know you, Rin. We can tell when you are lying. Was it my teasing?”

“No, Matt, it wasn’t the teasing,” I say honestly, reaching for his hand. “It’s me. My brain is having a hard time accepting that this, whatever is happening between the five of us, is real and not a game.”

Riley’s palm glides over my cheek, encouraging me to look at him. ‘It’s real,’ he signs, then adds out loud, “I don’t play with hearts, Rin.”

I inhale a deep breath as Matt tangles his fingers with mine, linking the three of us in a way we haven’t been connected in years.

CHAPTER 27

Erin

There is another gift on the table that evening. I know it is from Blake before even looking at his new note. ‘To keep you warm until you let me hold you through the night.’

The same deep scrawl, missing the name. Curious, I peek into the bag. A rainbow comforter that is similar to the one I own in color, the texture the softest I’ve ever felt. I tug it out and open it up fully. The slight musk of a sunny and warm day clings to it, and I wrap it around my shoulders before sinking into the old couch that smells like all of them.

I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips. Blake is giving me things for a nest. I might not have one here, but maybe my dorm room could become a makeshift one. Not that I’ll need one anytime soon with the heat blockers I take, but it is still sweet.

The dorm is empty of the four of them, allowing me a few moments on my own with each of their scents. If I were a cat, I’d roll around on every surface like it was covered with catnip. That is how good it smells.

When a key sounds in the door, I glance over to see who is back. Blake steps inside, two bags heavy in his hands. He hip checks the door as his eyes land on me, wrapped up in his gift. His eyes darken as he takes me in.

“Hey,” he says first, and my heart tries to launch itself from my throat at the husky quality of that single word.

“Hey,” I reply, my cheeks flushing the longer he stares at me like I’m an ice cold glass of water and he is dying of thirst.

“Let me put this away real quick,” he says and then disappears down the short hallway into his room.

When he reappears, he’s changed into a pair of soft-looking gray sweats that should be illegal and a black T-shirt. He perches on the edge of the couch and looks over at me with a smile.

“You like it?” he asks hopefully, glancing down at the blanket in my lap.

I roll my lips between my teeth, holding back a teasing smile, before I say, “Mmm, it’s okay.”

His brows shoot up at the unexpected answer, and he laughs. “Oh, if you don’t like it, I’ll just take it back.”

He reaches for it, attempting to tug it away from me, and I squeal as the action hauls me closer to him. Before I can process how it happens, he is tickling me, my arms secure at my sides, unable to fight off the tickle assault.

My laughter rings out, filling the dorm room completely as I try to get away from his touch. It is completely unfair that he remembers my most ticklish spots. And I know from experience that even if my arms were free, he isn’t ticklish.

I wiggle, only accomplishing the securing of the blanket around me. “Blake!” I gasp out in a laugh. “Stop! Oh God…stop!”

“But your laughter is my favorite thing, cupcake,” he says. And even if I can’t see him through the tears of laughter falling from my eyes, I can hear the happiness in his voice.

“I love it. I lied!” I yell in an attempt to get him to stop. If the muscles in my stomach get any tighter, I’m going to die.

His tickling slows, but his fingers remain on my sides. “You love it?”

Inhaling a greedy breath now that every single muscle is not focused on constricting themselves into a smaller space, I blink up at him. “I do. So much.”

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