Page 18 of Forget Me Not (The Shifters of Timberfall #1)

Bastien

“Goddamn!” Bastien hissed.

You could have asked him to name every possible reaction he would have expected her best friend to have and not a single one of those would have been for her to slap Syve across the face.

To her credit, Syve barely looked surprised—not surprised that Aimi hit her—no, it seemed she had been expecting more.

What an interesting friendship these two had.

“Sebastian? What the hell are you doing here?” Gunther slipped around Aimi and clapped a hand to Bas’ shoulder, squeezing harder than necessary.

Bastien swatted his hand off with a sigh. What was he doing here? What the hell was Gunther doing here? He was also almost certain that Gunther was calling him the wrong name on purpose at this point. Two could play that game and Bastien was just tired enough to be petty.

“Gunny, weird seeing you here. I was just walking Syve home.”

Gunther crossed his arms, lip curling into sneer which he quickly schooled. “Thanks, man, for bringing my girl home.”

There was no fucking way.

Bastien felt like someone just dumped a bucket of ice down his back. He always wondered who could possibly be capable of putting up with Gunther, and it never even crossed his mind that person could be Syve .

“Your girl?”

“Gunther!” Syve barked. She also had her arms crossed, but she looked pissed. “You need to stop telling people that! I am not your girl!”

“Come on doll, I don’t mean anything by it. It’s harmless; don’t be so dramatic.”

He had the audacity to roll his eyes at her. Maybe Aimi would hit him next. If not, maybe Bas could get away with it…

“Gunther.” Syve sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her eyes closed. “Please go home. Thank you for helping Aimi—”

“Help?! Help my ass!” Aimi interrupted. A sideways glance from Syve quickly silenced whatever else she was going to say.

“Thank you for helping. I am fine, clearly, and I am home now. Please go.”

Syve put her hand on Bastien’s arm, gently guiding him further into the loft while using the other hand to flag Gunther out, like he was some unwanted plane and this was the world’s smallest runway.

Grumbling the entire way like a petulant child, he allowed Syve to push him out the door where she quickly said good night, before she closed the door in his face.

Aimi went as far as to stick her tongue out at him through the window before dropping the shades and Bastien had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

The humor was short lived when Aimi rounded on him, stalking over to poke a very manicured nail into his chest.

“Now that the asshole is gone—what the hell are you doing with my girl?” Her finger jabbed his chest. “And yes, my girl.” She pointed to her own chest. “And why,”—back to his chest— “is she…” poke, poke, poke, “…wearing,” poke, “your,” poke, poke, poke , “clothes?!”

Syve stepped in then. She didn’t say anything—just grabbed Aimi by the wrist and gently lowered her arm to her side.

Wonderful. That was all the rescue he was going to get .

He rubbed at his chest, wondering if he’d have a bruise. Aimi was deceptively strong for her size—something he made sure to note for future reference.

“I just…She was…I was—” He stammered, “It was cold?”

Excellent. Real smooth. So intelligent sounding. The urge to slap his palm to his forehead was overwhelming.

“Well? Spit it out, dude. I need to know if I’m spitting in two coffees or just Gunther’s from here on out.”

That did it. It was so unexpected, and he was too tired to fight it, he laughed.

“I’m sorry, he’s just such a dick. The thought of you spitting in his coffee brings me immeasurable joy.”

Aimi’s eyes narrowed, she seemed to be considering something while Bas tried, and mostly failed, to reign in his giggling.

“I’ll be honest though—your coffee is good enough that I would risk it. Especially now knowing that Gunny’s coffee would be desecrated as well. Cuz fuck that guy.”

Aimi’s brows raised in approval.

“Hey, I’m right here and totally capable of explaining myself, thank you.” Syve called over Aimi’s shoulder. “Let the poor man leave and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Okay, fine.” Aimi relented before turning back to him. “You heard the woman, get out of here before I change my mind.”

With that, she ducked around him and began shoving his shoulders toward the door .

“Wait! Wait!” He sputtered, “Syve, can I talk to you first? Just really quick, and then I’ll go?”

He hoped that did not come out sounding half as pitiful as he imagined. Syve nodded and stepped out onto the porch with him, pulling the door closed behind her, much to her friend’s dismay.

Bastien wasted no time whipping his phone out, unlocking it and shoving it toward her.

“Send yourself a text so you have my number, then you can reach out if you have any questions or anything…”

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling the same way he had back in eighth grade when he asked Sarah Bernetti to be his date to the school dance. Preposterous! He was offering this woman, who was clearly grieving, some well-deserved answers, not asking her to take her clothes off.

Actually…she would have to take her clothes off for him to help her to some capacity—if he was going to help her master the shifting itself…

“Here.”

Bastien blinked a few times, grateful again for Syve’s interruption as he pocketed his phone.

“Thank you. For…I don’t know exactly what specifically. But thank you anyway.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, no, of course. I mean, I want to help…Listen, not to ride your ass or anything, but you really can’t tell her everything .” He emphasized the last word with wide eyes and a sweeping hand motion .

“I understand that, but listen. I know we don’t really know each other, but I’m not a complete idiot.”

She crossed her arms and pinned him with an incredulous look.

“I’m going to find out what she already knows and go from there. Just for the record—if she has figured it out already, or if I choose to tell her, you don’t have to worry. Aimi would literally give up the ghost before doing anything that could hurt me. My secret will be safe with her.”

He started to protest and she held a finger up.

“That is what it is anyway, my secret. I will respect your boundaries by keeping your secret to myself, but you do not get to tell me what to do with my secrets.”

Bas stared at her for a second, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. When we were little, we were always reminded, pretty aggressively, to guard the shifter world with our lives. I need to remember you didn’t grow up that way, and even if you had, you’re right. I’m not your boss and I don’t have any power over what you do. I am sorry.”

Syve studied him, clearly taken aback by his apology. Well, obviously, if she was friends with Gunther, she probably wasn’t used to men owning up to their faults.

Gunther. How the hell did she know Gunther? Now was not the time to ask, not that he had any right to ask in the first place, but damn if curiosity was not going to kill him .

“I’ll text you later? I have more questions, maybe we can get together and you can help me figure this shit out?”

“Of course, I’ll help any way I can. I imagine it’s overwhelming, it’s a pretty big change to literally everything you’ve ever known.

” Bastien laughed once then rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m not sure if your…sleepwalking will still be an issue now you consciously know what’s happening.

If it does and you have any control, just be careful?

It was way too easy to approach you. Not everyone has good intentions. ”

“If I have any control of it, I won’t go back there.”

The haunted look in her eyes agreed. He could not even fathom the pain that place inflicted.

“If I do…if I end up over there again…will you be there?”

Bastien reeled back, blinking at her, questioning whether he heard her correctly. Did she want him there? That was…unexpected.

“Oh, I—yeah, I mean…It has been nice to go for a run every night. It wouldn’t be out of my way to swing by and see if you’re there…if you wanted?”

Syve smiled. It was a tiny little thing and did nothing to hide the pain in her eyes, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

“If you’re in the area. I guess I’ve grown used to my wolfy companion.

Not being alone is oddly comforting.” She shrugged one shoulder and looked away from him, turning her head up toward the stars.

“I’d better get back in there before Aimi has a coronary,” she added, looking back down to him and pointing over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Right, thanks for keeping her from killing me back there. I’ll talk to you later.”

Syve smiled, waved at him once as he started down the stairs, then she was through the door and gone.

Bastien was certain there was no way the day could get any more chaotic.

“Mama? I’m home!”

Bastien slipped his coat off and hung it on the coat rack.

“Mama?”

He toed off his boots, freezing when he went to nudge them under the bench. There was already a pair of boots there. Men’s boots. The hot shower he had been daydreaming about for hours would have to wait. They were not expecting any visitors as far as he knew.

Quickly stepping through the living room, Bas made his way to the kitchen. It didn’t matter who was here, Soriah was a creature of habit and that was where she would be. Sure enough, when he stepped through the doorway, there she was.

Soriah was at the stove mixing what could only be her famous cocoa, but what made him stop dead in his tracks was the man sitting at the island stuffing food into his mouth in a way that made it seem like he had not eaten in weeks.

“ Mijo ! You missed dinner, but there should be a little left in the fridge.”

Bas grunted an acknowledgement at his mother, watching as their guest wiped his mouth and stood.

“Hey, brother. Long time no see.”

Bas met the man with a handshake that turned into a half hug.

“Cyrus. Did they teach a class on showing up unannounced for visits at that fancy school of yours?”

Cyrus Jay Laperle. East coast’s wealthiest nepo baby, Soriah’s honorary third son, and Desiderio’s best friend.