Page 20 of Knot a Bad Idea

“They’re the fucking best,” he growls, and my eyes open in surprise. “The best, baby. I’ll defend the honor of your cookies until my death.”

“Okay, okay. They’re the best, whatever you say.Geez, Hunter.”

But then he laughs and squeezes me tighter. “I’m passionate, baby. And don’t talk shit about your talents.”

I sigh in his hold. I’ve never been aggressively complimented before, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

“Anyway, back to Axton,” Hunter says. “After we blew up, the first thing I did was pay off my parent’s house. And Donovan bought his mother a house. It was amazing; she cried and hugged all of us. It’s one of my best memories with him.”

I smile softly. “He said he also visits her in his helicopter.”

“Yeah, he did.”

Hunter’s fingers run through my hair, catching on tangles and slowly working through them.

“And what about Liam?” I ask.

His fingers stop. “Liam’s been no contact with his family since his junior year,” Hunter says softly. “He slept in his car a lot, or when my parents could convince him, at my house.”

I let out a gasp. “What?”

“Yeah. He’s been through a world of shit. I don’t know how he turned out the way he did.”

Tears prick at my eyes. “What happened to him?”

“That’s his story to tell, baby. But he’s so fucking happy now that you’re in his life that it’s almost nauseating.”

Hunter’s words do nothing for the heartache I feel for Liam.

“We’re all fucking happy, by the way,” Hunter continues. He wipes a tear away from my cheek, and I didn’t even realize I was crying. “No tears,” he whispers. “You make our life better. And hopefully, we do that for you, too.”

But my tears flow freely, and Hunter holds me as I quietly cry, overwhelmed by my emotions.

What was meant to be a nap ends with us sleeping through the entire night.

4

LIAM

The painting is for her.

Even if I never give it to her, it will belong to her, always.

I observe my work, frowning as I stare at the canvas.

I’m in the studio in our pack house, avoiding Donovan while I do my best to put my emotions into art.

I’m acting like a lovesick teenager, and I don’t know how to stop.

Not being near her makes me feel sick, and she’s not even my mate.

But my thoughts areApril, April, April.

And even though we’re not tied together, even though I haven’t bitten her gland and marked her…

I still feel like webelongtogether.

Even if she’s not mine, I’m hers.