Page 9 of Knot Happening

I’m in a bit of a daze as I start my walk home. What the heck else did he give me? Is that why I’m feeling so guilty about stealing from Declan?

I started stealing things after Hayden. An ache as deep as the sea cracks my chest open, and I shove away thoughts of that particular Alpha, but it’s too late. He creeps in anyway.

Like he always does when I think about him too often. I’d stolen from him over and over when things went to shit, starting the last three months of our senior year, after theincident. Little things, at first. His pencils and notebooks. Then his gym clothes. A few hoodies and even his sneakers. His dirty, sweat-soaked sneakers.

He never said a word, so I doubt he even noticed.

My thoughts trail back to Declan and the bags in my hand. My three items would have easily fit in one of these bags. So what’s in the other two bags?

Curiosity nags at me the entire way home. I’m basically sprinting up the stairs and into my apartment. Mom’s still exactly where I left her on the couch, but her eyes are open now, and she’s at least watching the TV that I left on. I take a second to turn the volume down since I left it freaking blasting.

I hustle into my bedroom, shut the door, and dump the bags out one at a time. Sure enough, my three items are in the first bag all together. Bag number two is also holding a pair of heels, but these? They could be worn to a nice dinner or a bar. They’re in a box with the same name as the sex shop, but the tag attached to the strap says Christian Louboutin Paris. I squint at the red bottom.

One of two things is happening. He’s a weirdo who carries around women's shoes. Or, they were meant for someone else. I guess option three would be that he’s a player and just has a stash of these ready to go at any moment.

I’ve never seen a real pair, from a lifetime of living paycheck to paycheck, so I have no idea if these are fake or not.

I shake my head and empty the contents of the last bag. The clean scent of summer rain hits me, but I still get the sense that the scent isn’t his, but whatever soap he uses.

I bite my lip, becausehot damn. The sexiest set of red lingerie I have ever seen is lying on my ten-year-old pink comforter that I got for my birthday when I was eleven. I run my fingers over the silky soft material and shake my head. There’s even a garter belt and white stockings.

This would look fucking incredible on me. I check the size and lift a brow. They’re my exact size. That’s when I spot the note I missed before.

Tatum,

In case you change your mind about dinner. I look forward to your call.

-Declan

I scoff. The nerve of this Alpha. I pull out my phone and text the number written on my hand.

Tatum: Bold of you to assume I’d wear these to dinner. I’m a sweatpants and hoodie kind of girl.

His reply is immediate, and it makes me smile. I take a moment to save his name before reading it.

Cocky Alpha: You can wear both. Or neither. Neither is good too. Just the heels.

I’m giggling and shaking my head. I like the attention. I like that he’s so…pushy? I like being talked into things. I’m not good at asking for what I want. Or expressing my needs. He’s pursuing me in a way I enjoy, and even though I have no intention of having dinner with him, it feels good to flirt.

Tatum: Cute. Are these real? I've never seen red bottom heels before. Do you just keep a stash of them in your car? Ready to charm lucky Omegas everywhere, or am I special?

Cocky Alpha: You are certainly special. If I tell you how I acquired the heels so quickly, it’ll ruin the mystery. But I will say, no, they were not already in my car. And no, they weren’t for anyone else, Tatum.

Tatum: Hmm. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. I’m still not having dinner with you.

I sit down on the edge of my bed and pick up the heels. How much money could I get if I sell these? This chasm opens up in my chest at the thought of giving these heels away. Even if I do need the money. I could wear them once.

Just once, and then I’ll sell them.

Today is Saturday, and from what I’ve seen online, it’s better to go in on a weekday to apply for the club I’m trying to get hired at. Which means I have three more days of working at the diner down the street.

I think Mom picked this apartment for us so it would be easier for her to get to work, back when she still worked at the bank. I’m grateful for the convenient location.

I slip my shoes and socks off my feet and pull the heels on. I stand up and turn to my full-length mirror. Fuck, they look sexy as hell.

They’re a deep black leather with a strap over the toes and one around the ankle with a golden clasp. The arch of the shoe shows off the classic red bottom. Stunning.

I sigh.

---