Page 37 of Knot Mine

He takes a bite of his Twizzlers, chewing on it while he twists the remainder between his long fingers. “I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. We are strangers. And your connection to my sister isn't a connection to me.”

Ouch. That stings.

We’re not strangers, I think to myself. I’ve seen you naked and shooting cum all over yourself.“No, That’s a fair point but we have grown closer the last couple of weeks. Gotten to know one another a little better, haven’t we?”

Shiloh’s face scrunches up as he thinks a little deeper about it. Realizing that he can’t tell me that we’re still strangers, because strangers haven’t seen each other during their most intimate, vulnerable moments. That kind of thing bonds people together, whether they want it to or not. And while he may not admit it, there’s something between us—a link, however tenuous. A string, a cord, a thread or whatever and it ties me tohim. If he was an omega, I would almost think he could be my Fated Mate, but I know better.

“Hmmm. So, what do you want to do after college?” he asks, trying to divert the topic so that it gets back on track. Denial is a river in Egypt, but if he’s not ready to think about our growing relationship, that’s fine.

“I’m going to work at Blackwood Tech.”

He isn’t surprised by this, making a small humming noise before asking, “Doing what exactly? I can’t imagine they’ll have you starting off in the mail sorting room.”

Well, he’s right about that. According to my father, I’d be joining his executive team in some bullshit role as I learn the ropes, but that was a cushy appointment that came with a corner office and all the perks of being a Blackwood. I doubt I’d even see the mailroom or ever have to photocopy anything for myself.

“True. Whatever it is, I’m sure my papa has already chosen the furniture for my office.” I let my smile fall, the invisible weight of expectation around my neck making itself known again.

“Why do you sound so apathetic?” The frown is back, and I don’t like it. My innate reaction is to soothe him. Protect him from whatever is bothering him, even if it’s me. “I don’t think I like seeing you like this.”

I tilt my head as he watches me carefully with his eyes locked on mine. For a brief moment, we’re exposed, open and raw. Our words are filled with vulnerability and honesty, as that tether between us crackles and pulses.

He shudders, “It’s like all the emotion has just been sucked out of you. All that's been left behind a husk of the alpha meathead I’ve come to know.”

Always so dramatic, I think as I chuckle, snagging another Twizzlers before offering it to him.

“Isn’t that just growing up?” I retort, starting to rebuild my walls brick by brick. I’d had enough of today’s pity party already, there was only so much emotional dumping I could handle for one day.

“Is your plan to be miserable for your whole life?” He takes the candy, our fingers brushing, sending tingles skittering across my skin. His pupils widen, before he blinks and glances away. “If you weren’t Zale Blackwood of Blackwood Tech, what would you be doing after college?”

I would be a coach or a trainer working with teenagers, but I can’t say that. I can’t put those words out into the universe, because they’re laced with resentment and longing for a life I can’t have. Instead, I stare at the fire and ignore the way his gaze sears into the side of my face.

“It doesn’t matter, so there’s no point even thinking about it.” Taking a deep breath, I push all those feelings aside. Turning my laptop towards him, I point out some areas I’ve highlighted in our project plan. “You know what we should think about instead? How we standardize the framework for the reporting and how the supply chain will affect sustainability.”

Chapter Fifteen

Shiloh

Spreading our notes on the coffee table, Zale sits on the sofa while I’m cross-legged on the plush rug using the coffee table like a desk. Every now and again I can feel his breath on the back of my neck, and it’s a refreshing welcome, a coolness brushing over my tender flesh.

I’m surprised he brought work with him this weekend, but maybe he thought he could get it done before Millie arrived. If we don’t pass this with a high mark, I’m going to stage a protest outside our professors’ office.

Especially after the strange, emotionally heavy conversations we’ve been having this afternoon. I don’t want to get to know Zale better. I don’t want to pity him, or soften my resolve towards him. He is my sister’s boyfriend, a fact I have to keep replaying in my head like some ritualistic chant.

He’s not mine.

He’s not mine.

He’s not mine.

I don’t think I ever considered that he might be struggling with the pressure from his parents and there’s clearly some sort of story behind him going into the family business after graduation, but he’s keeping tight-lipped about that.

I wonder if Millie knows about all the troubles weighing on his mind? Or that he’s one strong gust of wind from buckling under the weight of all the expectations placed on him.

Being a wallflower was supposed to make my life easier, by hiding in the shadows made it easier to live with other people's demands and assumptions. Did it stop them from making their assumptions to begin with? No. But it meant I could shrug them off and carry on with my life. I didn’t realize that Zale was out here, trying to hide in plain sight of everyone, letting everything drag him down deeper into the mud.

No, I chastise myself with a firm head shake. Stop feeling sorry for him. Stop letting him wear you down.

After working on our papers for a while, we eventually stopped for some dinner. It’s only a simple pasta dish using up the leftover chicken, but like lunch, we make it together.

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