Page 45 of Knot Mine

Shame and guilt settle low in my stomach, heavy and pulsing. I was a horrible person. Millie…she didn’t deserve this.

Zale sits up with a groan, leaning against the edge of the sofa as he rubs his face with a sigh. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one feeling worse for wear after our stupid, reckless antics last night. “Yeah, see you soon.”

He looks around for his sweatpants, standing to tug them on and I look away, trying not to stare at his half-hard cock. Finding his vest and from where it had been tossed it last night, he pulls it on, clearly feeling tender as he makes slow stilted movements.

“That was Millie,” he says, approaching me slowly as I finish my water and hand him a bottle. Of course it was. My twin seemed to have a sixth sense about the worst or best times to call, depending on how you looked at it. “The plane has just landed, they’ll be here in an hour or so.”

Zale cracks the lid open and demolishes it in a few desperate gups as sits on a stool near the counter. The only noises in the cabin were us, breathing, too afraid to say anything.

Tapping my fingers on the worktop, I take a deep pained breath. Why did this ache in my chest make me want to scream? A second later the lights flicker on and a quiet hum as the cabin comes back to life.

“Oh, look. Power. Great.” I cleared my throat awkwardly, grateful that there was a distraction. “Well, I’m going to go shower, and maybe just get some more sleep.”

Memories of hot, salty cum painting my skin make me shiver. I needed to scrub myself raw, remove every trace of him.

Zale pushes to his feet and takes a step towards me, “Shiloh…”

I hold up my hand to stop him, I need to cut this off at the knees. “Nope.”

We’d been here before, crossed those invisible lines. But this was something next level and we needed to do more than ignore it. We needed to wipe it from our minds completely.

“We should talk.” His hand finds his hair and he tugs, drawing my eyes to the love bite I left on his neck. How could I have done that? Marked him as if he was mine? I was sick. Chewing the inside of my cheek until I taste blood, I wince, furious with myself.

His voice is raspy as he looks at me, blue eyes filled with so many warring emotions that I don’t have the capacity to unpack. “About last night…”

“No. We don’t need to talk about anything.” I grab myself another water, downing it. Was I trying to drown myself? Was that possible? Because right now, I wanted to be anywhere but here. “It was a very big mistake. We were drunk, angry, freaked out, there was weed and a whole load of regret. I’m the campus slut. There’s nothing more to talk about.”

“Shiloh,” he tries, his voice a whisper now.

My hand curls closed so that I’m just pointing my finger at him now. “Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to Millie and ruin her birthday.”

Oh shit.

It’s her birthday. How could I do this to her?

“Talk to me,” he pleads, trying to take another step towards me but I’ve already started walking away.

What a fucking mess I’ve made of everything.

Typical fucking Shiloh Vos. Always ruining everything.

The shower helps clear my head but I’m still over sensitive and off kilter, wracked with shame. The sooner this weekend is over, the better. Maybe I should just head back to my apartment early? Tell my parents I’m not feeling great.

Wiping away the steam on the bathroom mirror, I look at myself.

What was wrong with me?

My brown curls hang limp around my face, my skin is flushed and not just from the hot water. The mate mark looks bright and raw again as it throbs. Is it a side effect of the suppressants and the pre-heat haze? Is it making it impossible for the failed bond to fade? Whatever it is, I need it to be over. The pain was a reminder that I was shameless and disgusting.

Drying myself off, I get dressed carefully, choosing a black turtleneck, a pair of burgundy chinos and my glasses. I toss my clothes into the washer in the laundry room, rushing back to my bedroom to avoid Zale.

When I feel like I’ve calmed down I check myself over again. Standing before the mirror once again, I swallow two more pills and I let my walls fall back into place. I was Shiloh Vos. Loner. Beta. Bitter. I didn’t need him. I didn’t need anyone.

Opening the door, I slam into a broad, wide chest.

“Oooft!”

Arms come around me, attempting to stop me stumbling backwards but I push him away with a frown so that for a few moments, we’re grappling with one another. “Why are you lingering outside the bathroom, Blackwood?”

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