Page 34 of Knot a Bad Idea

Then another.

Until I’m out of the room, leaving April by herself.

7

APRIL

After Hunterand Liam went to bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about Liam’s past.

His story broke my heart—the kindest, most empathetic man I ever met has a family that hates him.

So, I found a bottle of wine and sat outside, lost in thought, until Donovan showed up and I couldn’t hold my resentment and hurt in anymore.

I don’t remember much of what I said to him.

Only that somehow I ended up in bed.

I also forget that white wine gives me a damn headache, and the sunlight streaming into my room doesn’t help it.

I sit up and groan.

I still don’t know what’s going on with Donovan—but anxiety churns in my stomach, and mixed with the headache, I feel nauseous.

And tonight is another charity event.

I need to bring my A game and play the part of dutiful Omega.

Thankfully, I spot a glass of water and aspirin on the nightstand, which I assume are from Donovan.

Maybe he doesn’t hate me after all.

But the feeling that something is inherentlyoffonly grows, even after aspirin kicks in.

I head downstairs to grab breakfast and am greeted by Liam in the kitchen.

I was hoping to run back upstairs before anyone saw me with my messy hair and unwashed face, but Liam looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Good morning,” he says, grinning, pouring me a glass of orange juice. He knows it’s my favorite, and I can’t keep the smile off my face as he hands me the glass.

Sweet, doting Liam, who smells like eucalyptus and a hint of mint.

Still, that undercurrent of anxiety stays with me, even as he pulls me into his arms and presses a kiss to my head. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

I huff in his hold. “It’s nothing, Liam, really.”

“Wait. April.” He reaches down to cup my face in his hands, and his green eyes soften. “What’s wrong?” he repeats softly.

I bite my lip.

I don’t want to worry him.

“I’m fine,” I promise him.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” he says, his brow slightly furrowed. “Don’t…don’t do that.”

He swallows, his throat bobbing as he looks at me.

But how can I explain to him what’s going on inside me?