Page 81 of Trick Knot Treat

“You slept long enough.”

“Holy crap! Harvest!” I scream and jump out of the blankets, almost face-planting in my efforts to get to him. At last, I get free and throw myself into his lap, hugging him tight.

“Did you miss me? I feel like you might have?”

“Shut up, Harvest. Of course, I missed you.”

I finally pull free of him and wipe my eyes.

“Shall we go for a walk, and you can tell me who I’m killing?”

“No killing.”

He gives me this blank look.

“Seriously, but we, uh, we may need to rethink things. I don’t think I can go through with the plan.” I feel awful admitting it.

I get up and ignore him while I get ready. He waits patiently, scrolling through his phone and just being the silent, dangerous, hulking shadow in the corner. When I’m done, we head out onto the beach.

The night is clear and crisp, the stars shining brightly, filling the whole void. The ocean is lapping the shore. Everything is perfect, and I’m standing here with my best friend wishing he was someone else.

Damn it.

“Harvest. How the hell are we going to tell Dad this was all fake? Because we have just weeks left before I come home, and I am absolutely not bonding with you. It’s so gross.”

Harvest laughs. “Straight to the point.”

“Always. You’re like a brother; it’s freaking disgusting. How did we get ourselves into this stupidity?”

He tosses his head back, laughing hard.

Oh, he’s attractive with his dark hair and tattoos. When he smiles, he’s got this lazy way of expressing his mirth that makes you want to put everything down and go join him in whatever fun he’s getting up to. But fuck him? Ew. Bond with him? I would rather gnaw off my left arm.

“Let’s just tell your dad.”

“Are you kidding me! He will kill you.” I run my hands through my hair. “Listen, I found some people. My people.”

Harvest goes completely still, his eyes scanning my face. “You found scent matches?”

I hesitate, unaccountably nervous. “Yes.”

“So?”

“I mean, I can’t commit to anything until we sort this out with Dad. He forbade dating, sex, or flings. He is so happy about us bonding; he’s already planning the parties. It’s just…”

“Disturbing?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t fret. Enjoy the next few weeks. We’ll figure it out at the end.”

“But what about you?” I ask anxiously. “Are you sure you are okay with all this?”

“Babes, I land on my feet. I’m a cat. I might take a little holiday, too. But I’m crashing at your place. And for what it’s worth, the idea of fucking you makes my Weetbix repeat on me.”

This is a mildly unnerving turn of events, but I will take it. He throws an arm over my shoulder and turns us around, guiding me back towards Sunshine Cove.

“Now, tell me what’s good to eat and where I can get some.”