Page 27 of Forget Me Not
Wonderful. That was all the rescue he was going to get.
He rubbed at his chest, wondering if he’d have a bruise. Aimi was deceptively strong for her size—something he made sure to note for future reference.
“I just…She was…I was—” He stammered, “It was cold?”
Excellent. Real smooth. So intelligent sounding. The urge to slap his palm to his forehead was overwhelming.
“Well? Spit it out, dude. I need to know if I’m spitting in two coffees or just Gunther’s from here on out.”
That did it. It was so unexpected, and he was too tired to fight it, he laughed.
“I’m sorry, he’s just such a dick. The thought of you spitting in his coffee brings me immeasurable joy.”
Aimi’s eyes narrowed, she seemed to be considering something while Bas tried, and mostly failed, to reign in his giggling.
“I’ll be honest though—your coffee is good enough that I would risk it. Especially now knowing that Gunny’s coffee would be desecrated as well. Cuz fuck that guy.”
Aimi’s brows raised in approval.
“Hey, I’m right here and totally capable of explaining myself, thank you.” Syve called over Aimi’s shoulder. “Let the poor man leave and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Okay, fine.” Aimi relented before turning back to him. “You heard the woman, get out of here before I change my mind.”
With that, she ducked around him and began shoving his shoulders toward the door.
“Wait! Wait!” He sputtered, “Syve, can I talk to you first? Just really quick, and then I’ll go?”
He hoped that did not come out sounding half as pitiful as he imagined. Syve nodded and stepped out onto the porch with him, pulling the door closed behind her, much to her friend’s dismay.
Bastien wasted no time whipping his phone out, unlocking it and shoving it toward her.
“Send yourself a text so you have my number, then you can reach out if you have any questions or anything…”
He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling the same way he had back in eighth grade when he asked Sarah Bernetti to be his date to the school dance. Preposterous! He was offering this woman, who was clearly grieving, some well-deserved answers, not asking her to take her clothes off.
Actually…she would have to take her clothes off for him to help her to some capacity—if he was going to help her master the shifting itself…
“Here.”
Bastien blinked a few times, grateful again for Syve’s interruption as he pocketed his phone.
“Thank you. For…I don’t know exactly what specifically. But thank you anyway.” She shrugged.
“Yeah, no, of course. I mean, I want to help…Listen, not to ride your ass or anything, but you really can’t tell hereverything.” He emphasized the last word with wide eyes and a sweeping hand motion.
“I understand that, but listen. I know we don’t really know each other, but I’m not a complete idiot.”
She crossed her arms and pinned him with an incredulous look.
“I’m going to find out what shealreadyknows and go from there. Just for the record—if shehasfigured it out already, or if Ichooseto tell her, you don’t have to worry. Aimi would literally give up the ghost before doing anything that could hurt me. My secret will be safe with her.”
He started to protest and she held a finger up.
“That is what it is anyway,mysecret. I will respect your boundaries by keepingyoursecret to myself, but you do not get to tell me what to do withmysecrets.”
Bas stared at her for a second, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. When we were little, we were always reminded, pretty aggressively, to guard the shifter world with our lives. I need to remember you didn’t grow up that way, and even if you had, you’re right. I’m not your boss and I don’t have any power over what you do. I am sorry.”
