Page 31 of Knot Mine

“If you’re not tired—” His phone rings, interrupting whatever it is he’s about to say.

Exhaling in relief I scurry away, ignoring the way my stomach tightens when I hear him say, “Hey Mills. Are you having a good night? Yeah. I’m here. No, he’s not being weird. It’s fine.”

Chapter Twelve

Zale

Ican’t believe I slept through most of the drive, for me the five hours passed in the blink of an eye. It was strange. I never slept in the car. Usually, it was a lot harder for me to relax in new places or around people I wasn’t comfortable with—it was one of the reasons I never stayed at Millie‘s place. Plus, I didn’t exactly want Sadie listening outside with her ear pressed against the door.

Even though I expected it, there was still this awkwardness between us when I turned up at Shiloh’s apartment earlier. I don’t know why I was so abrupt when knocking on his door but it seemed like the best option was to just keep things simple until this week was over with. I was stuck in this strange headspace where I hated the stiltedness between us but I also couldn’t talk about it. I wasn’t ready to open that can of worms.

Being with Millie had felt like an easy, nice option at first. It was like hanging out with my best friend some days but then on other days it started to feel like wearing a pair of shoes two sizes too small. It wasn’t quite right. As time went on it was getting harder and harder to squeeze myself into the boxes I was supposed to be checking. The ones where I was the perfect son and the perfect boyfriend. The cracks had been appearing forweeks and I could feel my fingertips bleeding as I struggled to hold it all together. Something hard to give, something had to change.

It was tearing me apart trying to be everything to everyone and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep investing into a relationship that didn’t feel right. My relationship with Millie was like an hourglass, and I was watching the grains of sand fall. What I was doing to the two of us wasn’t fair.

I needed to be honest with her, talk to her about where she felt our relationship was going, even though I already knew the answer. She wanted marriage and babies. She wanted the Blackwood name. I was a trophy to her, and I’d turned a blind eye to that for a simpler life.

It wasn’t exactly a conversation we could have over her birthday. I wasn’t a complete monster. She deserved to enjoy her celebrations. Or maybe I was just being a coward by putting off the inevitable?

Actually, I was 99% sure I was just being a coward. This thing with Shiloh realistically wasn’t even a part of this dilemma, because I couldn’t have him. If my parents weren’t impressed with Millie, daughter of property tycoons and beautiful, accomplished omega then they weren’t going to settle for a beta with bite, determined to do everything his way. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to explore whatever this crazy connection between us was, but even if I did, everything came back to needing to talk to Millie first. Bitterly, I wonder if I will end up married to Clarice anyway. That seemed like the only outcome that would make my papa happy.

When we entered into the Vos family cabin, there’s this odd sense of coming home. It’s not even my home, but the family photos on the wall and faded lingering scents seem to soothe my anxiety. It’s pleasing to my alpha senses, and I take a few moments to explore the open plan house.

It’s clear to see that this isn’t just a show home. It’s a well-loved space with personal touches everywhere and in my chest, I get a strange sense of longing, as if I want to stay here for a while. Hideout someplace safe and welcoming.

When I catch a glimpse of Shiloh out of the corner of my eye, putting away the snacks that we picked up, it feels weirdly right. My inner beast, that base alpha part of me, is strangely satisfied watching him go about a mundane domestic task when there’s only the two of us in this house so clearly filled with love.

I regret trying to put those barriers up between us earlier because now when I try to talk to him, it’s clear he’s drawing his own lines in the sand and warning me not to overstep.

He eventually starts relaxing, telling me about their property in Crete. The way he smiles when he talks makes me want to try and push to learn more about him.

Just as I’m about to suggest that we have a late dinner together and watch a show or maybe even play cards or a video game in the living room, my phone rings. The name that flashes up gives me that same sensation that my parents do. My chest tightens, and my palms feel sweaty and slick. I try to swallow, but my throat is dry and it’s like my tongue is too big for my mouth.

It’s Millie.

Because of course it’s Millie.

It’s a sign from the universe reminding me that just because I’ve decided that this relationship isn’t right for me, doesn’t mean I can have him.

When I’d been trying to untangle the knots of my feelings, I’d thought about trying to be a better boyfriend. In fact, I’d thought about nothing else over the last three weeks. It was draining. I tried. I worked hard to ignore Shiloh, to package away all the traitorous thoughts of him, but they just kept spilling free, leaking out along the seams of my sanity. When I lay in bedat night and let my mind wander and I knew it wasn’t her face I saw, despite the similarities. The grains of sand in our relationship were almost at an end.

The vibrations from my phone remind me that Millie is waiting for me to pick up.

“Hey Mills. Are you having a good night?” I say, watching Shiloh make a hasty exit, ruining the little progress I’d made.

“Zale! Baby, I miss you. Did you get there safe?” She sounds a little drunk as she screeches my name on the phone. “How’s Lo-Lo? Is he being weird?”

“Yeah. I’m here. No, he’s not being weird. It’s fine.” I chuckle at the cute nickname. It kind of suits him, something short and snappy. The thought is followed by another wave of guilt. At this point I’m not really sure I feel much besides guilt, longing (for the wrong person) and exhaustion. Of course she has a nickname for him, she’s his sister.

“You should be here!” she slurs. “Everyone is here.”

I can hear loud music in the background, and voices laughing and cheering. She must be outside a club, I think as I glance down at the bottle of water in my hand, rubbing the label while silently begging the conversation to finish quickly.

“Who is everyone?” I ask even though I don’t actually care as she rattles off a list of names.

I wasn’t like Millie, Evans or Sadie, I had no interest in networking and schmoozing with people who had more money than human compassion or common sense. Again, it was always another part I had to play. Another box to check off. I was expected to go out and show my face, representing Blackwood Tech at all times but there were restrictions. It meant I had to be on my best behavior—I couldn’t drink too much (something I’d been more reckless with lately), I couldn’t do drugs (not that I would because of the football) or make a scene just in case I ended up in the media. Ignoring my recent exceptions,I usually stuck to those rules…The last time I’d been blackout drunk, that had been the night that brought Millie into my life. We’d been part of the same friendship group, thanks to Evans’ relationship/not a relationship with Sadie but we’d always been circling one another rather than interacting directly. That night changed everything.

“Ooooh! I LOVE this song!” Millie screams in my ear, and I hear Sadie yelling her name in the background. At least it sounds like she’s having a good time.

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