Page 113 of Knot a Good Idea

Home.

The word sits heavy in my gut.

This will never be my home.

We’re playing house for a few weeks until their exes’ wedding.

Still, I can’t help but imagine Skylar and myself in the kitchen, making batch after batch of cookies.

We would sit in the theater room with Devyn and watch baking reality shows.

I could teach her how to master the trifle using their fancy equipment.

Skylar could bring her pack over. River and Landon would play board games with Liam and Hunter, while Donovan and Vincent could sulk in a corner together.

And my mom…

My mom would be happy to see her daughter happy.

“April.” Donovan’s low voice snaps me out of the fantasy, and I look up at him. “Is everything okay?”

I think about his question.

“Sometimes,” I admit quietly.

He nods, as if he understands my cryptic answer.

We continue walking, his hand still resting on my back, and he leads me up the stairs. We walk in silence until I reach the bedroom, and I flick on the light, my nest fully on display.

Donovan sees it as we stand in the doorway, and the slightest amount of color flushes his face.

Is heblushing?

I love when I see the tiny, secret parts of himself he tries to hide.

He quickly moves his attention from my bed, as if he didn’t want me to catch him staring at my nest.

But I’m unashamed. I proudly display it.

He flexes his jaw, his lips pulled into a hard line, and his scent intensifies.

He smells like the ocean, like an overcast sky with the slightest hint of salt and citrus.

“I’m not good at this,” he whispers, his eyes falling to my lips.

“Good at what?”

“Anything, really, when it comes to you.”

“You’re good at cleaning up the kitchen after I dirty it.”

He scoffs and the corner of his lip quirks slightly. “That, I guess.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I hardly know how to interact with you half the time. I can’t tell if I’m pissing you off or making you happy.”

He frowns. “Everyone has that problem with me. You hardly piss me off.”

“Well, good.” I yawn, looking at my nest longingly. Donovan’s scent is starting to affect me too much. If he stays here any longer, I might try to do something irrational, like jump him.

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