Page 8 of Knot a Bad Idea

“And he still looks at you that way?”

“Yeah. He looks at me like I’m his…home. Does that make any sense?”

I swallow. “Yeah. It does.”

Liam has always been open and honest with me. His eyes are earnest and his expression soft. Hunter never shies away from me, whether he’s being playful or passionate.

But am I theirhome?

I highly doubt that’s how they look at me.

And Donovan…

Donovan is closed off, with an icy gaze so cold it could freeze over Hell.

I’ve only seen him soften it a few times, but when he does, it’s breathtaking.

But most of the time, Donovan is an impenetrable wall, possibly worse than Vincent.

“It’s Donovan, isn’t it?” Skylar asks.

I swallow. “What gives you that idea?”

“Because your best friend isn’t an idiot and knows how to use deductive reasoning. Also, your mom likes to talk.”

I groan and rub my forehead. “What did she say?”

“Just that if anyone is going to give you a hard time, it’s going to be Donovan. And that Hunter and Liam are obsessed with you.”

I huff. “It’s not her business.”

“I have some terrible for news for you. She’s your mom—she’s going to make it her business. And you need to come home soon. We all miss you here. You can’t leave me too long with Devyn.”

I chuckle. “She’s teaching you patience. She’s like a mini-you; now you know what I have to deal with.”

A distant beeping sounds on the other end of the line.

“Oh, fuck me,” Skylar murmurs. “The oven just went off. Are you going to be okay if I go?”

The faintest, slightest scent of an ocean breeze hits my nose.

Donovan.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” I say quickly. “Try to make sure Devyn gets some sleep.”

“Will do. I’ll text you.”

“K, bye.” I end the call and sit up in bed.

He’s back.

I run a hand through my hair, quickly brushing out any tangles. I’m dressed in one of Hunter’s short sleeved grey shirts and my black leggings, and that will have to do.

I don’t know when the last time I saw Donovan was, but I need to talk to him before my confidence dissipates.

I pad quickly out of my bedroom and down the hall.

I find him downstairs in the kitchen, dressed in dark jeans and a black sweater. He’s pouring himself a glass of water from the fridge when he turns to look at me, and my stomach drops.