Knot a Good Idea (Bittersweet Omegas #4)

Chapter 25

25

APRIL

I smell.

Not in a normal body odor way, that would make me want to shower or put on deodorant.

No, I smell like my café.

Like I doused myself in vanilla, cinnamon, and melted butter.

I’m one of those fancy candles that Skylar can’t get enough of that are only found in specialty department stores.

My suppressants are supposed to mute my scent as well, but the essence that wafts off me is reminiscent of freshly baked cookies.

My body is also on fire. Sweat beads down my forehead, and I splash myself with water before I begin to put on makeup.

The party starts in an hour.

The caterers have been here for a while, but after my conversation with Hunter, I hurried to my bedroom, unable to face him for long.

My Heat is inevitable, and I’ve chosen pack Axton to take care of me.

They’re not my real boyfriends, they’re not my pack, but I want them just the same.

They’re my friends, at the very least, and I know I’m safe with them.

Hearing them argue about my Heat made me want to curl into a ball and die of embarrassment, though.

The conversation had to happen after I heard a few snippets of Hunter demanding that they talk to me about it.

Still…

“What the fuck am I doing?” I whisper to my reflection. My hair is styled in loose waves and half pulled up with subtle crystal hair pins. My skin has a healthy flush to it, and the dark circles under my eyes aren’t so pronounced.

I look much healthier than I did a month ago, and a lot of it has to do with the men I’m staying with.

I’m not healed, but I’m better.

The glass rose that Liam gave me on my first night sits on the vanity, and I reach out and run my fingers over its smooth surface.

Liam, the kindest, more empathetic Alpha I’ve ever met.

If he can be honest with his feelings, why can’t I?

I grab my phone and shoot a text to Skylar.

I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit friend recently.

My phone buzzes almost immediately in response.

??? What the fuck are you talking about?

I smile. Skylar is much too forgiving. She always has been.

I haven’t been stepping up for you. I’ve been lost in my own issues. Usually, I’m the one you go to when you’re upset, and I haven’t been there for you.

There. I finally said it.

A couple of dots show up on the screen as I wait for her response.

And? Friendship isn’t a one-way street. You’re allowed to come to me when you need help too, dumbass.

I scoff and type out my response.

I guess. If you say so.

Skylar sends a photo. A plethora of macarons is displayed on a glass plate, the different colors swirling together to create the illusion of a flower with different colored petals.

But then she sends a devil emoji, and I make a face.

I know exactly what kind of cookies those are.

They’re her “special” batches which she only makes for her pack.

What the hell is wrong with you?

She replies in less than a second.

LOL.

I place my phone down and sigh. I think Skylar is the only person on the planet who thought it was a good idea to put her slick in the batter.

But her pack eats them, so I guess it works out?

My best friend is bizarre, but I still love her.

Downstairs is transformed.

The furniture in the main room has been rearranged to create more space, and a bar is set up in the backyard. String lights hang from the gazebo and connect to the outdoor dining table.

Even the indoor décor has changed. Sleek tables with delicate floral centerpieces are near the walls filled with different appetizers. I spot a spectacular charcuterie arrangement, something I could only dream up with an unlimited budget.

It’s the ideal setup for a cocktail party.

I find Donovan outside speaking to the bartender with his arms crossed and his face pulled into his usual frown. But when he turns and sees me, his eyes soften.

The dress I chose is the perfect complement to his midnight black suit. It’s tight in the front, showing off my bust, but slightly flows from the waist to my calves, giving me room to move.

It’s dark and flowy enough that if something slick related happens, it’s an easy fix.

Despite its functionality, it’s still elegant.

I really need to figure out what stylist Donovan used to stock my closet because the dress is made of the softest material I’ve ever felt.

As I step closer to him, I almost fall over from the intensity of his scent.

Shit.

I thought I had a few days before my Heat.

But now…

Get through the party. That’s all you need to do.

Donovan’s arm wraps around my waist, and he brings his lips to my ear. “You look lovely,” he murmurs, and a shiver races down my spine.

“Thank you,” I breathe, my voice embarrassingly shaky. “You do too.”

There’s a scoff behind me. “I would never use that word to describe him.” Hunter stands at my other side and hands me a glass. “Hey, baby,” he says softly. “You look better than lovely. You look perfect .”

Hunter cleans up well. His grey suit along with his white button up shows off his broad chest and trim waist, and my mouth waters as I take in the sight. The gold of his eyes shines as the light of the sunset hits them, and his grin takes my breath away.

Donovan mutters under his breath in annoyance, but Hunter just grins as I sip from the glass. A hint of floral lavender mixes with zesty, carbonated lime on my tongue. “What is this?”

“Liam created it for you,” Hunter says.

I stare at the lilac-colored drink in surprise. “Really?”

“Really,” a third voice adds, and Liam walks up to us, dressed in a navy blue suit so rich it makes his green eyes almost appear blue. “Lavender is meant to be calming. I thought you might like it.”

He watches me, waiting for approval. “I do,” I say earnestly. “I love it.”

He gifts me one of his tender smiles and his eyes light up.

“You ready to get through this?” Hunter asks. “We only have to suffer a few hours, maybe less if Donovan can convince that kid’s parents to work with us early enough.”

“When is everyone coming?” I take a swig of the lavender concoction, hoping to calm my nerves.

This is more intimate than a gala and more professional than a painting session.

More is at stake tonight.

“Any moment,” Donovan says, looking at me and nodding. “You have nothing to worry about,” he says. “You’ll do fine.”

But the knots in my stomach and the cramping in my womb say otherwise.

I don’t know how I’m going to get through this.

Hunter was right.

These people are insufferable.

If I hear one more person talk about their summer vacation house in Florence, I’m going to lose my mind.

I’m at Liam’s side, standing with another one of my lavender drinks while a middle-aged man complains to him.

“We had to go through three contractors because all of them said they couldn’t do a wrought-iron balcony on the third floor. It’s not that hard!” The man gives me a look, as if I should agree with him. I smile politely, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

“That sounds…difficult,” Liam says, his tone even. He keeps an arm around me, and I lean into his shoulder, breathing in his rich eucalyptus scent.

Dealing with entitled people is a lot easier when I have him by my side.

“So, April ,” the man, whose name I recall is Clay, says. “Where are you going to have these men build you a vacation house?”

The question catches me off guard. “Oh, I don’t think about those things.” I laugh awkwardly. “I don’t need a vacation home.”

Clay looks at Liam incredulously. “Really? You got one of the humble ones, did you? That’s nice. Mine is complaining about Paris already.”

My eyes widen and Liam grips my waist tighter. “She can have a house wherever she likes,” he says easily. “Ten of them, for all I care.”

Clay grins, showing off too-white teeth. “She’s beautiful, by the way.” He says it to Liam, not me.

“I’m aware. I’m very lucky she’s mine.”

But his scent is stronger than before, more peppery than mint.

It’s the scent of his anger.

He pulls me even closer to him, so much that I’m almost smushed against his side, but I don’t care.

Mine.

I didn’t realize Liam could be possessive, and it makes my cunt ache.

Survive the party. That’s all you need to do.

But my hands are clammy, and I shift uncomfortably in my heels.

I look around and catch Donovan sitting outside with a young man and an older couple, talking intensively at the glass table.

That must be the kid that built the app, which means Donovan is unapproachable right now.

“You look familiar.”

I turn my attention back to Clay, who’s frowning at me. “I’m sorry?”

He cocks his head. “Are you an actress? I swear I’ve seen you on television before.”

It feels like my heart stops.

I swallow. “No,” I say simply.

“Are you sure? I think I saw you on something. Not too long ago, even.”

“Is she sure she’s never been on television? I think she would know, Clay.” Liam’s voice is curt and sharp, angrier than I’ve heard it.

But Clay doesn’t seem to care, and he squints at me with cloudy grey eyes. “I’ve seen you before?—”

“Excuse me.” I wrench myself out of Liam’s grip and head over to Hunter, who eyes me from the charcuterie display. He’s by himself, and the minute I head to him, he wraps me in his embrace.

“You okay, baby?”

Air won’t come into my lungs, not matter how much I breathe in his spicy scent. I shake my head subtly, hoping no one else will notice my panic.

“Let’s go outside.” Hunter shoots a fake smile to a guest, then places his hand on the small of my back. We head past Donovan, who glances at me briefly before turning his attention back to the guests.

Hunter walks me all the way to the gazebo and joins me as I collapse on the bench, my breathing heavy.

“Fuck, baby, you’re white as a ghost. What the hell happened in there?”

I hate that I’m triggered, that I’m sitting here losing my mind because some entitled prick thinks he might have seen me before.

I sound pathetic.

“You’re not pathetic,” Hunter growls, and I realize I’ve spoken aloud.

I shake my head, too tired to give him the reasons why I am.

“I think I got recognized,” I mutter, clenching my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms.

“By who? That asshole Clay?”

I let out a shaky breath. “Yes. He said he saw me on television. And the only time I was on television was when…I went missing.”

Hunter’s silent for a moment, stroking my hair. “Fuck him,” he finally murmurs. “He’s a piece of shit.”

I turn to Hunter, tears in my eyes. “And? What if he does find out? What if everyone here finds out who I am, and that you’re dating… me ?”

Hunter looks at me incredulously. “So fucking what?”

I blink. “What?”

“Why would I care would they think? Do you think Donovan or Liam care about that?”

“You don’t get it,” I insist. “I didn’t tell you the whole story about my past. I didn’t?—”

“April.” Hunter’s voice is low, so low I almost don’t hear it. “It’s your story, and it’s your business.”

He still doesn’t understand, and it infuriates me. “Hunter. I’m fucked up from what happened. Why would you be proud to date me?”

I’m babbling now, my thoughts incoherent as shame consumes me. “I can’t be normal. I’m not normal anymore,” I add.

“Fuck being normal. Do you think any of us are normal?” Hunter motions with his hand. “None of us fit in with any of these people. I feel out of place all the fucking time. That’s why I hate these things. But normal? In a perfect world, I’m playing board games with Liam or sketching. And if we’re not doing that, we’re fucking around with coding. How is that normal?”

I sigh and wipe at my clammy forehead.

“And to answer your earlier question, I’m fucking proud to have you on my arm. You’re a beautiful survivor that somehow puts up with all our bullshit.”

I want to believe him. I do my best to let his words ring true in my heart.

Baby steps.

But my anxiety combined with Heat symptoms don’t leave room for personal growth.

From the corner of my eye, I see Donovan shake hands with the couple he was speaking with.

“Thank fuck,” Hunter groans. “Maybe we can end this shit early now.”

I sigh. “Maybe.”

“You don’t even have to stay if you don’t want to,” Hunter says. “You can go upstairs and relax. You did your part, babe.”

I angle my body toward him, meeting his golden eyes.

I could go upstairs.

I could undress and hide under my nest and wait for my Heat to start.

Or I could mingle inside so my pack doesn’t have to suffer alone.

There’s a third option, though.

One that’s in front of me, looking at me with his hungry eyes and full lips.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “For just…being there.”

Hunter smiles. “No need to thank me, baby. It’s my pleasure.”

Then, I kiss him.