16. Selene
16
SELENE
W hy do I have a sense of déjà vu?
Oh it’s probably because the last time I was staring in the mirror, blasting music, and trying to calm my nerves, I was headed over to Knox’s place and I know how that ended up.
Pleasure. And then misery.
And what’s the saying about people who do the same thing but expect a different result? However, this time, we’d be in public with none of the naughty things we did behind closed doors.
But being in public increases the risk of us being seen, and I still have Tessa’s warning sitting in the back of my mind. It is easy to take this “outing” the wrong way depending on who might see us and report back to her.
Or, heck, if we run into her ourselves. And that would be just my luck.
I switch off the music and find something I can meditate to instead. I quickly find a guided meditation that will hopefully soothe every nerve in my body because I swear I can hear my own pulse in my ears right now. The soft voice in the meditation app urges me to take deep breaths, but my lungs feel like they're on strike. I close my eyes and try to follow along, imagining myself in a serene forest, but all I can see is Knox's stupidly handsome face and think about how this “outing” is going to go.
Damnit.
The meditation isn't working. I kill the app and stare at my phone, at the message he sent an hour ago.
Knox: Still on for this evening?
I quickly answered yes before I could talk myself out of it.
I check my makeup one last time. My lipstick is too bold for a “friendly chat,” but wiping it off now would just smear it across my face, and I don’t have the time or the energy to start over. Besides, this red looks great on me and will give me the confidence I need to get through tonight. Not to mention, I purposely chose to dress down a bit to not give the impression that this was a date date. My sweater, jeans, and boots look great, as do I.
And that’s the story I’m sticking to.
When my phone vibrates on my desk, I nearly jump fifteen feet in the air. I assume it’s a message from Knox.
Knox: I’m downstairs. Make sure you’re dressed warmly.
He’s here with five minutes to spare and thankfully, I am dressed what I assume is appropriately.
I don’t bother to answer, instead choosing to hurry up and put on my coat and grab the bag I’d be using for the night. After giving myself one more look and concluding that I do actual look put together, I make sure I have everything I need before locking my dorm room behind me.
The evening breeze swipes at my hair as I walk out of my dorm, expecting to see Knox leaning against his car like he always does. But instead, I stop dead in my tracks.
He's not by a car.
He’s straddling a black and white motorcycle, helmet tucked under one arm, the other casually resting on the handlebar like he’s posing for some kind of magazine cover. I’m not sure if I’m annoyed or… intrigued.
He looks up as I approach, that familiar cocky grin spreading across his face. “What’s the matter? Never seen a bike before?”
I blink, trying to hide the way my heart just flipped in my chest. “I just wasn’t expecting… this,” I say, waving a hand toward the bike. “Isn’t this a bit much for an ‘outing’?” I add, using my fingers to throw up air quotes.
Knox swings his leg over the seat and steps closer, holding out the extra helmet like it’s no big deal. “I thought we could have a little bit of fun.”
I take the helmet hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his as I do. He doesn’t let go right away.
“Ever been on one before?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, like he’s trying to read my reaction.
I huff, gripping the helmet tighter. “Would it make a difference if I said no?”
His smirk deepens. “Yeah. It would.” He flips the helmet around in his hands, then carefully settles it onto my head like he doesn’t entirely trust me to do it right. His fingers brush along my jaw as he secures the strap under my chin.
I swallow. Fantastic. Now I have to deal with him being hot and helpful.
“There,” he murmurs, stepping back. “Fits.”
I roll my eyes. “What, no matching leather jacket to complete the look?”
Knox chuckles, before putting his own helmet on. He taps the side of it before reaching over to tap mine. “These have built-in comms,” he says. “Mic’s already on. Just talk.”
My eyebrows lift. “So you did think ahead.”
He grins. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”
Before I can respond—not that I have a good comeback for that—he swings onto the bike and nods for me to get on.
“All right, let’s go over a couple things before you get on,” he says. “Step up from the left side, and when you sit, keep your feet on the pegs. Stay close, but don’t lean too much, or we’ll tip.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, so you do care if we crash?”
“I like my bike in one piece.”
I scowl, but I step up carefully, gripping his shoulder for balance as I swing my leg over the seat. Knox steadies me with a hand on my waist, not letting go until I’m settled.
Once I’m on, I hesitate, my hands hovering awkwardly before I finally give in and wrap them around his waist.
Knox snorts through the mic. “Selene, I’m not made of glass. You’re gonna want to hold on tighter.”
I grit my teeth, but do as he says, my arms tightening around him. The second I do, he revs the engine, the sound is like a deep growl beneath us that makes my stomach flip.
Then his voice slides into my ears. "Welcome to a very exciting evening.”
And just like that, we take off. My heart pounds in time with the hum of the engine, and I can’t decide if it’s from the thrill of the ride or the man I’m holding onto.
It could be both. Damn, what the hell have I gotten myself into?
My thoughts come to a halt when Knox’s voice crackles through the helmet mic, breaking the silence between us. “So, how have you been since I saw you at the gym?”
I adjust my grip around his waist, trying not to think about how hard and strong he feels beneath my hands. Focus.
“Busy. Classes, work, trying to keep up with everything. I assume you’ve been doing the same—plus hockey?”
“Yeah, I’m just happy to be playing again. Having to sit out with a shoulder injury was rough. Thankfully, it was mild.”
Knox takes a smooth turn onto Main Street, the main strip in town where all the best restaurants and stores are. The streets are strung with white faerie lights, even though we still have a few weeks until the holidays really kick off. The glow reflects off the glossy black and white of the bike, making everything feel a little more surreal.
“I’m glad you're back in action,” I say, meaning it.
For a second, he doesn’t respond. Then his voice comes through the mic, slightly softer.
“Thanks. It means a lot.”
A beat of silence, just the low rumble of the engine beneath us. Then he speaks again. “You should come to a game sometime.”
Dangerous territory. Because it could be even more public than tonight depending on what we are doing and where we are going.
“We’ll see,” I say, deliberately noncommittal.
Knox doesn’t push it. Instead, I feel his body shift slightly as he leans into the next turn. My gaze drops, catching the way his hands flex against the handlebars. Is it weird to like someone’s hands? Because suddenly, I do.
In high school, I dated this guy Jason for a hot minute, and I thought he had the nicest hands in existence. Until now. Knox's hands are strong yet precise, gripping the throttle with a casual confidence that makes something in my chest tighten. Hands that could—and have—ruined me for anyone else.
I shake my head slightly, trying to dislodge that train of thought. This is exactly what got me into trouble last time—letting my mind wander to places it shouldn’t go when it comes to Knox.
The bike slows as he pulls into a small parking lot tucked behind one of the buildings on Main Street. The sudden silence as he kills the engine makes everything feel sharper—the distant murmur of traffic, the faint sound of music drifting from a nearby bar.
“We’re here,” Knox says, resting both feet on the ground.
I blink, glancing around. The back entrances of a few different shops and food spots are visible, but nothing stands out as particularly special.
I unclip my helmet, running a hand through my hair. The time I spent making sure it looked good was probably a waste now. “Where’s ‘here,’ exactly?”
Knox twists slightly, that familiar smirk playing at his lips. “You’ll see.”
He swings off the bike first, steadying it before turning back to me. “Need help?”
I roll my eyes. “I think I can handle it.”
Still, he stays close as I climb off, one hand casually gripping the handlebar like he’s ready to catch me if I mess up. I don’t, but the way his gaze lingers for a second on me as I move sets my nerves buzzing.
I hand my helmet to him, and he locks both his and mine onto the bike.
Then, with a tilt of his head, he motions for me to follow. We end up walking down a small alleyway that opens up onto Main Street. As we turn the corner, I see a storefront that makes my heart do a weird little flutter. It's a combination bookstore and wine bar called “Prosecco & Prose.” I've walked by it numerous times but have never gone in, mostly because I feared I'd never leave once I set foot inside.
“No way,” I say as I stare up in amazement.
“Yes way,” Knox responds.
“This place is adorable.” I’m unable to hide the smile creeping onto my face.
Knox stuffs his hands into his coat pockets and shrugs. “Thought it might be your kind of place. Come on.”
He opens the door for me, and a small bell tinkles as we step inside. The warmth is immediate and soothing, like stepping into a hot bath after a long day in the cold. The interior is even more charming than I imagined, with white wooden shelves lined with books and a small bar in the corner that serves wine and cheese plates. Soft jazz music plays in the background, just loud enough to create an ambiance without overpowering conversation.
A woman in her mid-forties with dark, curly hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose greets us from behind the bar. “Welcome to Prosecco & Prose! Can I get you two a table?”
Knox looks at me, raising an eyebrow in question. When I nod, he says, “Yes, please,” and the woman grabs two menus before leading us to a small table near the back of the store.
I take off my coat and drape it over the back of my chair, then sit down and look around the room like a kid in a candy store. Knox watches me, and for once, I don't mind.
“So,” he says as he takes his seat and starts to remove his coat. “Is this acceptable for an outing?”
“It's perfect,” I say, although every thought in my mind is shouting there’s no way in hell this isn’t a date. Instead, I quickly add, “I mean, it's clever. Not what I expected.”
Knox leans back in his chair, a hint of a smug grin playing on his lips. “I'm glad you think so. I figured you'd enjoy a place where you can feed both your book and wine addictions.”
My head jerks back slightly. “How did you even know I loved to read? The wine part I can kind of see given the…ya know, partying.”
He points to his phone but never takes his eyes off me. “You mentioned it in one of your text messages a while ago. Plus, you work in the library so I assumed this wouldn’t be too big of a stretch.”
Touché. “How did you even know about this place?” I ask, genuinely curious. This doesn’t strike me as the sort of venue he would go to.
Knox shrugs, his confidence ever present. “I did some research about places near Crestwood and found it. I used what I thought you might be interested in.”
This new information sits oddly with me. It's easier to categorize Knox when he fits neatly into the box I've put him in: arrogant, bad boy athlete with a one-track mind. Every time he shows another layer, it throws me off balance.
The woman from behind the bar returns and says, “Can I start you with anything to drink?”
Knox looks to me, and I bite my lip, hesitating. If this were truly just two friends hanging out, there'd be no harm in a glass of wine. But if it's something more...
“Sangria for me,” I say, breaking my internal tug-of-war.
“Just water for now. Since I’m driving,” Knox responds a second later.
The woman nods and walks back to the bar. Knox studies me for a moment, and I can tell he's weighing whether to say something.
“So,” he finally begins, “why the hesitation?”
I fiddle with the corner of the menu, not really reading it. “Hesitation about what?”
“About tonight.” He pauses, and I feel his eyes boring into me. “About spending time with me so that I can clear the air.”
I look up, meeting his gaze head on. This is the moment where I could either lie and make things easier in the short term or tell the truth and potentially complicate everything.
“Knox,” I start slowly, choosing my words wisely, “it's not that I don't appreciate you making an effort. It's just... last time things moved too fast and?—”
“I freaked out and took it out on you,” he finishes for me.
I slowly nod. “Yeah. You did.”
And that’s something he could never take back.