Knot a Good Idea (Bittersweet Omegas #4)

Chapter 15

15

APRIL

“I’m so, so happy they found you,” the stout, grey-haired woman gushes as I hand her a custom box of cookies. “And you look so good, too! Are you gaining weight? When I saw you on the news your cheekbones were so sharp, dear. You looked sick.”

I plaster a smile on my face, cringing inwardly. “Thank you. I’m just happy to be back.”

After she leaves, I catch Skylar watching me.

“It’s been more than six months now,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes. “You think they would stop talking about it. There are other issues to worry about.”

Like how O is still circulating on the black market.

O, the addictive drug they used my blood for.

O, the substance Skylar’s pack is assigned to work cases on.

I can’t watch the news anymore. If there’s a mention of the drug, I flinch.

Has anyone overdosed because of a substance I helped make, even if I didn’t contribute to its production willingly?

Has someone died because of my blood?

“April. Hey.” Skylar’s voice snaps me out of the panic that squeezes my chest. “Earth to April.”

“Do you ever wonder if our stuff is still out there?” I whisper, and Skylar pauses.

“You mean…the batches with our blood in it?” My friend pales slightly, but I continue to push forward.

I’ve only voiced this to my therapist once, but I decide to open up to my friend.

Baby steps.

“I think about it all the time, Skye,” I whisper. I grip the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white. “What if I’m the reason people are overdosing?—”

“Stop,” Skylar interrupts. “That’s irrational. You can’t control what other people do.”

“But—”

“ And ,” she continues, “I voiced the same concern to Vincent, so he did more research. Our batches haven’t turned up in months.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My heart stops pounding so fast, and my shoulders release their tension. “Did you really?”

“Yes.” Skylar raises a brow. “You’ve been worrying about this for a long time, haven’t you?”

I nod, embarrassed that I worried for nothing.

“It’s been months , April, I swear. The O that was made from our… blood …is gone. Oh! They also found a lab they destroyed, too, with some of our samples.”

I look at my friend incredulously. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I wasn’t sure if I could talk about it with you,” she admits. “I didn’t want to set you off.”

I sigh and fiddle with a napkin, letting out a whoosh of air.

“You should have told me,” Skylar says quietly. “I could have put your fears to rest months ago.”

I grimace. “Yeah, I guess we should have communicated.”

“You’re the one that always told me every problem can be solved with communication.”

“Yeah, well, that was…before,” I admit. “I used to have answers. I used to know what I was doing.”

Skylar makes a face. “You’re still you, April. Even after all the fucked-up shit we’ve been through, it doesn’t mean we lost who we are. I think that’s something you need to realize.”

I laugh. “That therapy is paying off, huh?”

She shrugs. “We’ll see in time. I don’t know if perspective is worth two hundred dollars an hour.”

“Nah. I would say it's priceless.”

She grins. “So, talk to me next time, asshole .” She shoves my shoulder. “Or at least try to. You’re not alone, you know that, right?”

“I know. Or at least, I’m starting to learn that again.”

Baby steps.

Baby steps are pointless, however, when it comes to the chaos that’s waiting for me back at home.

I scent him before I see him, and I’m convinced my mind is playing tricks on me.

Spicy cloves and pepper invade my senses, and my mouth waters involuntarily.

There’s no way he’s here, right?

But the sleek grey sportscar covered in punk band stickers parked on my street gives him away.

And when I open my front door, I hear a low voice chuckling with delight.

I drop my purse on the couch, then head to the kitchen to see Hunter at our kitchen table, grinning at my mom.

My mom, who has apparently decided to cook dinner for him. A gorgeous flower arrangement of white roses and lilacs sits in the center of the dining table.

Tammy loves flowers. Hunter has already won her over.

“There she is,” my mom says, giving me a genuine smile. “Look who came over to visit.”

“Hey babe,” Hunter grins, his gold eyes crinkling at the corners. “I came to surprise you.”

I gawk at him. “I, uh…”

He turns to my mom. “I guess she’s thoroughly surprised,” he jokes, and my mom beams.

What the hell?

And that’s when I notice what’s on their plates.

Beef bourguignon and mashed potatoes.

My mom’s famous dish, the one she only brings out on holidays or special occasions.

The one that takes hours to prepare.

“Really?” I ask her. “My favorite meal? You haven’t cooked this in years.”

“Oh, I helped her,” Hunter smirks. “Don’t worry, babe. I wouldn’t let your mom do all the work by herself.”

“Which I really appreciate,” my mom replies, and my jaw drops.

“Sorry,” I choke out, doing my best to not look shocked that Hunter’s here. “Can I speak to you in private, Hunter?”

My mom watches me carefully. “Can it wait till after dinner?”

“It’s no problem, Miss Waters,” he says, and I roll my eyes. “I’ll be back in one moment.”

When he stands, I grab his arm and pull him out of the kitchen, into the front room, and out the door.

We stand in the driveway, far away enough that my mom can’t hear, and I take him in for a moment.

He’s in a fitted blue V-neck shirt, his tattoos snaking out and up to his neck. His hair is slightly mussed, and he’s grown scruff since I’ve last saw him.

It’s not that I’m not happy to see him. It’s just that I didn’t expect him to visit and being caught off guard is making me panic.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss, looking toward the front door.

“Visiting my girlfriend,” he says. “Isn’t it obvious?”

He looks delighted, as if there isn’t anything else he would want to do with his time.

“Long distance relationships can be hard,” he continues, “and I wanted to put in the effort.”

My jaw drops.

“We’re not really dating,” I whisper, taking a step down the driveway. He stands in front of me, the wind blowing his spicy warm scent into my face.

“Says who?” he replies easily.

“What do you mean, says who ? The contract!”

He places his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans and hums. “You kissed Liam,” he says. “That wasn’t in the contract. And Donovan got to take you out to dinner.”

I flush. “So, what’s your point?”

“My point is, it’s my turn with you,” he says lowly. “I’m tired of waiting.”

I ignore the delicious chill that races down my spine. “Does Donovan know you’re here?” I ask, looking for any reason to get him to leave. “Did he approve it?”

He bursts out laughing. “I’m not sure if Liam told him yet,” he says. “But I can’t wait until he finds out. If he wants to be an asshole and ignore you, that’s his choice. Maybe him and Liam have the patience to wait for our next event, but I don’t. I want you. Now.”

My mouth waters and arousal floods through my body. “Wha?—”

“Not like that, baby.” He grins. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I want your time. Your company. Besides, we have to finish our dinner first.”

I scowl at him. “I don’t remember inviting you to dinner.”

“But your mom did. And I’m eating the best damn meal of my life, so I refuse to let it get cold.”

He’s so playful that it’s hard to be annoyed with him. Even if he seems the slightest bit obsessive, I can’t stay mad at him.

I groan. “Fine. But you’re staying just for dinner.”

He scoffs. “We’ll see.”

But he knows I’m bluffing. He didn’t just drive three hours for a meal—he came for more than that.

He came for me.