Page 35 of Trick Knot Treat

She blinks. “What?” she says with a sharp laugh.

“Come with me on the date.”

“Oh, no. I can’t. I’m not part of it.”

“Then I’m not going.”

“Zaire.” One word, drawn out, melting my brain.

“I’m not. I won’t. You got me roped into this. You can come and sort it out.”

She laughs. “You’re just nervous, but it’s going to be fine. It will be totally different with Felix.”

Any amusement I had fades. The last two matchmaking dates with Asher Sol have been disasters. I tried. I tried so hard, but we have literally nothing in common. She was impatient as I fought over words, I couldn’t communicate with her frustration and sarcasm. Then, when Khione was sick, and I was looking after her, Asher thought I stood her up.

I did try to do the polite thing and tried to explain, but she didn’t want to hear it. Then, on the second event, she was the one who decided not to show up. I made an effort, but by the end of it, we were barely even speaking.

Seeing her holding the stone again made me physically ill. And then, like a miracle, Felix was there, stealing his twin's spot, blindingly, glaringly there. A miracle that already hates me.

And why wouldn’t he?

“Felix will never forgive me.”

“Of course, he will, he’s a sensible, level-headed omega. He will see through all your grumpy crackles-”

“Crackles?”

“-and think you are perfect, just like I do.”

So, why am I in the friend zone? Why are you keeping me at arm’s length?

“Trust me. I’ll hold your hand all the way through and then, when they see you how I do, you won’t even remember my name.”

Is that what she thinks? That I could possibly forget her? That for even one second I would ever? Preposterous!

For whatever reason, I find myself looking at Jace. He lifts a hand and waves before standing up straight, getting in his cruiser, and driving away. Khione never even noticed he was there.

We walk back to her house, where she brings out muffins, and we sit on her porch.

“Now, let’s talk clothes.”

In the end, I model my clothes, spending two hours getting dressed until she picks out something she’s satisfied with. The way she looks at me in those clothes has me itching to adjust myself. Has me almost beside myself and ready to beg.

She snuggles up in my arms, leaning against my chest as she talks.

My beta loves to talk. Any subject will do, she prattles and uses her hands to emphasize her point.

I pull out the present I had hidden in my pocket and hand it to her. She squeals and takes it. Her eyes lighting up with the kind of joy that is reserved for kids at Christmas time.

“What is it?”

“You have to open it to find out,” I tease.

She opens it and then lets out another piercing shriek and throws the box on the floor so that she can hold the tiny little figurine of a dog that looks just like Spectre in her hands.

“I love him!” She cries. “I love it! Aw, thank you, Zaire Bear. You are the best.”

She throws herself on my chest and burrows in, tucking herself perfectly against me. All the tension eases out of my body, all the stress, my past, my inability to fit in, the anger and fear, it all goes away with her in my arms.