Page 8 of Knot Forgotten

“Are you okay, Quinn?” Matt asks, concern creasing his forehead.

My gaze sharpens as I blink, memories settling into the recesses of the past, where they belong. “Yeah, thanks for everything,” I add, choosing to ignore his comment about my looks.

I glance over at Riley, and he smiles softly as if he had seen the memories with me. Which isn’t possible in the least, and I doubt he even knew Matt had said any of that to me back then. Sometimes, I’m not even sure it happened, that it wasn’t some fever dream I made up from my last happy summer.

“Both of you, I mean. For being so nice. And thank you for letting me share your room,” I say, meeting Riley’s steady gaze. “It will just be temporary. I’m sure admissions will help me get into a different room.”

CHAPTER 3

Erin

“I’m sorry, there are no open rooms. We can add you to a waitlist, though. Sometimes, students drop out early in the semester,” the lady behind the desk says. Sure, she sounds sympathetic, but that isn’t going to help me get out of the guys' room.

Just thinking of the way I woke up with my hair stuck to the side of my face and drool all over my pillow makes me cringe. Thankfully, Riley had woken up already; in fact, the whole dorm was empty when I got up.

“Right,” I say, gathering my thoughts back to the present. “Yeah, can you please put me on that list?”

Tapping the desk, I turn away and head back out into the cool late summer morning. Dew still clings to the grass blades, and the trees haven’t started preparing for the long, cold winter. It makes me want to find a park, lay on a blanket, and stare at the blue sky while I can. But as it is, I’m already running late for my first class—the story of my life.

I swipe out a quick text to my mom and aunt, who have been blowing up my phone, telling them I’m fine and breathing. And I’m not kidnapped. I snort. That is their go-to. If I don’t answer right away, they want to call in the police force to save me from my would-be murder. Or call every local hospital to check for Jane Does. I love them both to pieces, but they really should find their own lives to worry about.

Dropping my phone into the side pocket of my backpack, I turn toward the Science building. My AP classes from high school already elevated my class schedule here. PSYC 241, Neuroscience I: Brain Structure and Function, is the first step in my mission to help people with mental illnesses. Kresge Hall is right around the corner, so I pick up my pace, hoping to not be noticeably late for my first class on my first day.

Swinging open the heavy door, I squint as I adjust to the dim hall, a sharp contrast to the sunny start of the day. Glancing at the room numbers closest to me, I find that my class is much further into the building. Swiftly, I press on, intent on hurrying to my destination.

I’m so wrapped up in getting there that I almost barrel straight into Blake, who is lounging against the wall just around a corner. His foot is kicked up against the wall, and he looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world. And he is also not alone.

“Oh,” I say in shock, coming up short. “Sorry.”

I meet his lazy gray gaze for a moment before it unwillingly slides over to the stunning beauty standing next to him. If she is a ten, I am a five. She looks like she could have stepped from an emo version of Vogue. The bright blue hair paired with her darkly lined crystal blue eyes, down to the clothing she was wearing has me blinking. A pang goes through me. Of course, she is his type. Why wouldn’t she be? They look good together.

“Can we help you?” she asks, her voice throaty and soft.

Oh, fuck, I’m staring. I shake myself out of whatever grabbed hold of me and move around them. Waving a hand on my floppy wrist as I pass them.

A low rumble of a chuckle follows me, with the timbre of Blake’s voice nipping at my heels, urging me faster. “Ignore her,” he drawls. “Just my scared little roommate who was inconveniently and temporarily placed with us. I’m sure she won’t be a problem soon.”

I tug on the straps of my backpack as I reach my class. Haphazardly, I glance back down the hall at them and wish I hadn’t.

She’s closed the distance between them, his propped up knee between her legs as she leans into him, pressing a kiss to his lips. And I’m frozen, a creeper watching someone I lost any claim too long ago, as he deepens the kiss, threading his ringed hand into her pretty hair and tugging her closer.

The back of my scalp tingles as if he’s touching me, and I’m positive my perfume would be out of control if it weren’t for the descenter I liberally applied this morning. I am going to have to bathe in it.

She pulls back with a giggle, pressing her forehead to his with a sigh, and then she steps back. And I should move, disappear into the class like a phantom, but my feet don’t listen. I’ve grown roots to the spot. The side of my neck heats as the flames run up to my ears and across my cheeks. I can feel it inside of me. The moment he feels my eyes on him, he turns his head as if in slow motion.

I swallow hard as our eyes meet and hold. The corner of his mouth kicks up in that sardonic smile he wears now. The one that doesn’t show happiness or joy but seems to be a mask he puts on for the world. Then he keeps his attention on me while tugging her close again, his palms running up her sides before he cups her neck and kisses her again. Watching me watch him over her shoulder. He breaks the stare to glance down at her as he draws back and dismisses my forlorn stare as if I don’t exist.

This time, I force myself to move, to enter the sanctuary of the classroom in front of me. But I don’t hear the teacher as I settle into my seat at the back of the room because another first day is playing like a movie on repeat in my head.

Blake leans against the metal rack as I lock my bike up. I am running late, not that that is anything new. I always seem to run behind schedule, but this isn’t my fault. My alarm hadn’t woken me from my dreams. Then, Mom barely made sure I was awake before leaving for work. Thankfully, I showered last night. I also snuck a few sprays of my mom's descenter before leaving for school.

Cam and I hadn’t addressed the elephant in the treehouse last night. I am presenting as an omega while he is becoming the alpha I’ve always known he would be.

When I glance up at Blake, his stare is intense. I tuck a stray curl behind my ear and attempt a smile despite the butterflies battering my stomach.

“What?” I run my tongue over my teeth. Had I missed something when I brushed?

He straightens and kicks the dirt at his feet. “You look different–”

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