Page 19 of Forget Me Not (The Shifters of Timberfall #1)

Syve

Aimi jerked away from the window when Syve slipped back inside, like she was absolutely not peeking through the blinds. The look Syve gave her roughly translated to, ‘really?’

“No, you don’t look at me like that! You!

” She pointed at Syve, her opposite hand on her hip.

“You didn’t show up for coffee this morning for the first time in a year .

You didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t open the shop, and when I let myself in you were gone , Syve.

Do you have any idea how fucking worried I was?

!” She threw her hands in the air, her voice rising with each word.

“I thought something happened to you. I thought… ”

She was whispering now and Syve didn’t need her to finish.

She knew exactly what her friend thought.

After Erhard and Noah passed, Syve had been in a really dark place.

Aimi was the one who slept over for weeks, forcing her to eat and bathe, to go to therapy and drink water.

Aimi was the only one who knew Syve still struggled everyday with the guilt she felt.

Syve hung her head.

“Aimi, I’m so sorry—” When she looked up, Aimi was rushing toward her with tears streaming down her face. Her friend tackled her with a hug so fierce it almost took them both to the ground. “Oh, Aimi.” She shushed her friend and smoothed her hair as she hugged her back.

“Shut up. I’m not crying; I’m just detoxing. And if you tell anyone, I’ll tell the world about that one time you drank all that vodka and—”

“Okay! Okay, okay! You’re not crying! Don’t you dare bring that up!” Syve cut her off in a panic and Aimi erupted into a fit of evil giggles.

“For real though, you’ve got some serious talking to do. But first, go shower. You smell like a wet dog.” Aimi scrunched her nose up. “I’ll order food—coffee or liquor?”

She was already headed to the kitchen, scrolling on her phone as she went. Syve noticed the room had been cleaned, the only evidence left that she had in fact trashed the place earlier, was the spider-web of cracks across the TV screen.

“How about liquor in the coffee?” Syve suggested .

Aimi let out a string of expletives, agreeing to the request while also mumbling something about needing to call her therapist after this. Syve shook her head and turned to the bathroom. A hot shower sounded euphoric.

Syve spent a solid thirty minutes standing under scalding water, staring at the wall and replaying the day in her mind. If she went to bed right now and woke up to see the same date on her phone, she would not even question for a minute that the entire day had only been a fucked-up dream.

When she finally ambled back into the living room, Aimi had two giant steaming mugs on the coffee table, surrounded by no less than a dozen takeout boxes.

“Did you really order Chinese and wings?” she asked, settling into the couch, one leg folded under her and reached for her drink.

One sniff confirmed it had been spiked generously with her favorite bourbon. Well, Erhard’s favorite bourbon. Keeping his favorite things around was a habit she never gave up.

“Listen. I stress eat, you know that! I wanted frickles and fried rice. Sue me.” She shrugged, shoveling a massive spoonful of rice into her mouth. “I also got us some of that lava cake from that fancy new pastry shop.”

Sure enough, two of the boxes were full of fried rice, another two were full of fried pickle chips and there was a clear-topped box with two massive slices of chocolate cake.

Aimi had also gotten an order of lo mein, some spring rolls, orange tofu, a side of white rice, a box full of little sugar donuts, a whole order of fries, and a whole order of tater tots shaped like Tetris pieces.

Syve did not even hesitate, popping two tater tots in her mouth before grabbing a fork and the box with the cake.

“Bitch, you’re already on thin ice, I swear on my Blu-ray box set, if you eat my half of that cake, I will never make coffee for you ever again.”

“Better put down the rice then, this is really good.”

With that Aimi dove across the couch, snatched half of the cake up in her bare hand and plopped it down unceremoniously in the top half of her half-eaten rice box.

“Now would be a good time to start talking, b-t-dubs,” Aimi chided as she licked chocolate frosting off her hand.

Syve told her about how she had stayed up late reading her mother’s journal and how she had finally started getting into the old family history. She told her she had not slept, choosing to binge read instead and that was why she had neglected to show up for coffee.

“Awesome, now I know what you were doing up until you disappeared on me. Now is where you’re supposed to tell me you figured out the family secret, freaked out, turned into an animal, destroyed your house and then, when I let you outside, you went AWOL for seven hours only to return with Butcher Boy—oh! And you were wearing his clothes .”

Aimi, having finally removed all the cake from her fingers, picked back up her rice and began eating again like she did not just drop an absolute bomb. Syve gaped at her for a solid minute before responding.

“I literally told him you were entirely too smart, and way too damn nosy to not have figured it out,” she finally said.

Aimi laughed, grinning around a mouthful of rice.

“The notebook was lying open on the kitchen table—it was like you wanted me to read it! What if you left a note for me? Whatever, you know I can’t help myself.” She gestured dismissively with her fork.

“So…why are you not freaking the fuck out right now? Oh, and don’t think you can distract me with this interrogation like I’m not going to ask why the hell you called Gunther,” Syve said incredulously.

Aimi groaned, ran a hand down her face and slumped back into the cushions.

“Before I figured it out, I was freaked out and assumed if anyone knew where you were, it would be your weird ass stalker cousin-in-law.” Aimi sat back up and turned her whole body toward Syve.

“As for why I’m not freaking out now? I totally am, you just missed most of it…

and I’m hungry…and still trying to decide if that brownie I ate this morning was Toni’s, not mine, and I’m actually just high as fuck right now. ”

“Christ, Aimi.” Syve shook her head, though she was not truly surprised by any of this. “Okay then. I guess I can start with the fact that those weird ass repeating dreams were not really dreams? ”

Aimi nodded, mouth full of fries while her eyes gave her a look that clearly translated to, ‘duh.’

Syve took a long drink of her coffee before continuing, “Right, so I don’t exactly understand all of it yet, but I guess strong emotions can be a trigger.

I kind of had a little panic attack after reading that last journal entry and then…

okay, so that part is actually a little fuzzy to me too.

I do remember you showing up though. When you opened the door, I ran into the woods. ”

Syve paused, how the hell was she supposed to explain everything else without explaining everything else ? She hated keeping secrets from her best friend—truth be told, she had never kept a secret from Aimi for as long as they had been best friends.

“And?” Aimi pushed. “Where does the hottie with the sweat suit fit into all of this?”

She narrowed her eyes, searching Syve’s face for answers.

Syve just stared back, still silently debating how to proceed.

She’d promised not to spill the beans about Bastien being a shifter, but while the thought of going back on her word made her want to vomit, the thought of lying to Aimi was infinitely worse.

What if Aimi figured it out on her own? Bastien would just have to understand.

“I guess he saw me before I made it to the tree line.” She shrugged. “He found me pacing—do deer pace? Is that a thing? ”

“Focus, woman! You’re saying he saw a deer running through town and just, what, followed it?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Syve took a deep breath. “He had good reason to believe I was the same deer he had previously seen sulking around the cemetery.”

“You are being so cryptic right now.” Aimi deadpanned.

“What are you trying to say? Or not to say?” She tilted her head in suspicion.

“Are you saying he’s seen you, or deer you—Syve!

” She sat up suddenly, her voice raising three whole octaves when she shouted her name.

“Are you shitting me right now? Are you trying to not tell me that Butcher Boy is—” Syve waved her hands frantically in front of her friend, shushing her and looking around like someone was going to be there listening in.

“Is he the dog?!” Aimi whisper-shouted around Syve’s hand.

“Wolf,” Syve corrected.

“Wolf, right, yes, that makes such a difference,” Aimi responded sarcastically. “Am I following you right?”

Syve nodded, reaching for the fried pickles.

Aimi slapped her hand. “Oh, hell no. You don’t get any of those until I know the rest of the story.”

Syve sighed.

“He found me pacing and tried to talk to me. I think he was trying to convince me I could trust him or something, so he straight up dropped his pants and went wolfy right in front of me. ”

“Oh my god, he New Mooned you!”

Aimi screeched, slapping her hands to her cheeks. This woman and her unhealthy Twilight obsession. Syve ignored the outburst and continued.

“I don’t think he put a lot of thought into the action though, because obviously it freaked me out more.”

“Right, fucking magic and shit.”

“Not to mention wolves are historically known to eat deer,” Syve added.

“Anyway, my fight or flight reflexes kicked in, and I bailed. So, he chased me down, all the way out to the lake, and then tackled me—fucking tackled me! Knocked my ass out. I woke up buck naked in the mausoleum. He had carried me the entire way back. I don’t know why he had clothes and food there—I forgot to ask that—but my options were: throw-blanket toga, or monochrome sweatsuit. ”

Now it was Aimi’s turn to look dumbfounded. That was a first, Syve could not remember ever having seen her friend speechless.

They spent the next two hours annihilating the table full of food, Syve taking all of the questions Aimi asked and adding them to the list of things she would have to ask Bastien while Aimi made as many movie references as she could.

When Syve started to nod off, Aimi gave her a bone crushing hug, demanded she promise to answer her phone and said she would see her in the morning for coffee, no excuses.

Syve agreed while dragging herself off the couch.

She hollered over her shoulder for Aimi to lock the door behind her and she dragged her feet down the hall to her room.

As she passed the bathroom door she glanced over, noting Bastien’s clothes on the floor where she had left them to shower.

Sleepily she gathered them up, backtracked to the laundry room and dumped them in.

The least she could do was wash them before returning them.

When she finally fell into bed, she fell asleep immediately.

She did not dream.