23. Gemma
Chapter twenty-three
Gemma
Rule #20: Ask Gemma before you play games.
S unlight poured through the ceiling-high windows, drenching the opulent room in metallic tones of gold and bronze. The scent of fresh flowers mingled with sweet, ammonia-heavy cleaner, and I tried to keep my mouth from hanging open the entire time we toured the wedding venue.
It was just as Sylvia had described it—lavish. The ballroom we were currently touring had rows and rows of white-covered round tables and beautiful brocade-padded chairs lined up against the walls. The carpets looked like something I'd seen in the British royal family's house, and gigantic, sparkling chandeliers hung at regular intervals along the three-story-high ceiling. Windows faced the rolling mountain range on one side and lush, green gardens on the other. Even this close to Halloween, the grounds had been expertly manicured.
Sylvia sighed in pleasure, her head rotating as she took in the splendor. "Can you see why I insist on a spring wedding?" she asked like that was patently obvious. "Imagine the flowers."
I gave the woman a critical eye squint. "Aren't there usually flowers at a wedding anyway?"
This lady was on my shit list. Anyone who knew their son had been sexually harassed and assaulted by an adult and had done nothing about it had earned themselves a permanent brown streak on said list, too. If she hadn't offered to give Knox the apartment as a gift, I would have gotten up and left the table last night. As it was, I had no choice but to keep my sass to a slight minimum. Given the tight-lipped look Knox was giving me, I might have overcharged my minimum sass balance, though.
Sylvia let out a fake, staccato laugh that made me grit my teeth in annoyance. "Of course there are flowers. But imagine a ceremony out in the gardens with the gardenias." She sighed again dreamily. "Oh! Look! A roulette table. My God!" She put a hand to her buttoned-up, black peacoat that matched the black felt hat she wore. "Can you imagine a poker night? How elegant."
Poker night for a wedding? This chick was definitely a few cards short of a full deck. "I mean, I guess so," I said through gritted teeth. What did it matter? I just had to see this through long enough to get Knox his house.
The man in question had my hand wrapped in his warm one, which just managed to ward off the chill inside the spacious room. Without an event taking place, it was cold as a tomb, and despite its swankiness, it had a detached kind of coldness I wasn't fond of. It was like the rich-person equivalent of the color beige. It would appeal to anyone with more than 100k in their bank account.
Well, except maybe Knox. I was pretty sure he had that much money, but he looked as unenthused as I felt. "It's… nice," he managed to force out. Because we were walking behind Sylvia, I got away with copying him silently, mouthing, "It's nice," with a stuffy, exaggerated expression. Knox gritted his teeth and reached for my neck, and I danced out of the way.
Sylvia turned on her shiny, black pumps to look at us. "Nice? Is that all?"
"It's very nice," Knox amended.
"Super nice," I agreed with cheeky seriousness.
Sylvia looked unconvinced but turned around again to finish walking the length of the enormous ballroom. "I'm sure you're both eager to begin your lives together," she said with a glance over her shoulder at us. "And eager to have the house in your names. Let's book the room for the soonest availability. Yes?"
Knox and I exchanged wary looks. This was what we wanted, but why did it feel like we were being played? It wasn't like I would actually be forced to marry Knox in this gaudy place. I gave him an uncertain glance. Right?
With Sylvia out of earshot, I whispered, “Is she actually gifting you the house?”
“It’s hard to say,” he said, frowning and tossing a glance his mother’s way. “We can play this out and see if she does. She believes we’re getting married. She might hand it over.”
“I mean, I guess it’s worth it to try,” I agreed reluctantly.
His expression gentled. “Only if you want to. We can find another way.”
“What? Tricking her into saying something incriminating? She won’t shut up about the wedding.”
He exhaled, and his resigned expression told me he agreed. “We can see where it goes… for now.”
Knox looked absurdly handsome today. Maybe it was because I was used to seeing him in corporate clothing, but his casual outfit looked downright sexy and snuggly. He was wearing a soft, heather gray sweatshirt, casual, dark pants, and squeaky clean, white sneakers, and he looked equally as likely to go to the gym as he was to go home with me and pull me into a comforting hug. I wanted to curl up next to him and watch a movie. Or give him a handy.
We'd had sex again last night, and it had only made me want him more. He was a drug. A tall, sculpted, blue-eyed drug I wanted to inhale and stay high on.
Knox shifted a look my way, and his mouth curled up into a smile that melted my insides. I bit my lip before mouthing, "I want—" I made a crude hand job gesture "—to do you."
He grabbed my hand again and yanked me to his side with a hard expression. Bending down, he whispered in my ear, "Are you trying to get punished, Gemma Daise?"
I winked. "Now what kind of deviant would want that?"
"Mhm," he hummed, kissing my temple before straightening again and leading me to follow his Kraken of a parent. We went out a glass side door to the gardens, and although the wind and a slight drizzle were making the day unhospitable, we followed the venue employee through the manicured gardens while she told us about the ideal locations for an outdoor wedding. I shivered under my yellow peacoat, and Knox tucked my hand into the pocket of his hoodie where he rubbed soothing circles along my skin. I could swear he never actually stopped touching me now. He hadn't been exaggerating—once he started, he didn't intend to stop.
And I loved it. I shouldn't have, and I knew that somewhat logically. It was a chronic weakness of mine to fall for men way too quickly. It didn't take much kindness to win me over. I already loved love—I orchestrated it for a living. But even in my personal life, the little moments, the kindnesses, the caring gestures, they all seeped right into the dry sponge I called my heart. It felt like I could never get enough. And Knox was giving me so much, I feared I would start to actually crave him for real. What if I actually fell for this man? It was a dangerous prospect.
Mentally steeling myself, I gave him a grateful smile and then tried to focus on what the employee was saying about sunset photography opportunities. By the time we made it back to the well-lit foyer, my hair was damp from the misty rain, my nose had frozen, and my patience was barely hanging on by a shredded piece of floss. The employee, a smartly dressed, middle-aged woman in a charcoal skirt suit, gave us her brightest smile. "So, what do we think?"
"Oh, we must have it," Sylvia gushed. To the employee's credit, she did glance our way uncertainly, but what were we going to say? " This isn't real, so I mean, whatever …?" Instead, Knox just nodded once, and Sylvia clapped her leather-gloved hands together once. "What's your soonest availability?"
My intestines tangled together like bad balloon art. That sounded ominous. Surely, they couldn't have anything too soo—
"Actually, we did have a cancellation yesterday," the employee said with a knowing smile. "It's a bit rushed, though. January."
Sylvia said, "We'll take it," at the exact moment that Knox rumbled, "No."
The employee looked between the two of them nervously. "Oh… should I…?"
Sylvia rounded a merciless glower our way that would have curled my nose hairs if I hadn't just waxed them. "We can make the timeline work if we hurry. And we'll gift the house as an engagement present. What do you think?" She paused, her gaze on Knox sharpening with a lethal glint. "You do want to be married, don't you?"
What a snarling bitch. I'd never had much of a poker face. I let my features coil into irritation, but Knox wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a reassuring squeeze. “And why would you gift us the house? Is there some reason we couldn’t stay in it as is?”
Knox had been trying all day to get Sylvia to admit she’d written an unethical and lawfully dubious clause into our lease agreement, but no luck.
She saw through him immediately. “Why, for your finances. It’s so much smarter to own.”
Knox looked like he was out of patience, too. “January, it is.”
Sylvia’s smile was oil slick. "Now, shall we celebrate with lunch?"
I would rather take a wire brush to my corneas. Knox spoke up quickly. "We actually have plans. Thank you, though."
Sylvia made sure to make her disappointment look convincing. "Oh, very well. I'm so pleased we could finalize the venue right away. Gemma? Could we meet to go over invitations? Time is of the essence, clearly."
"Clearly," I said through my fake smile. "Sure." This had better pan out. As soon as that house is Knox's, I am out of there.
"I'll call you soon," Sylvia simpered, the fine lines around her eyes creasing with the strain of keeping her smile in place.
I'll take a Xanax first, I sang back in my head.
Knox took us through a fast-food restaurant line, and we got burgers and fries, and because I was feeling some kind of way, I made him get me extra onion rings. Normally, I wouldn't do that with a man I wanted to fuck as badly as I wanted to rail Knox, but something about this situation had made me extra salty. So, with a little more verve than usual, I tore into an onion ring and glanced his way.
Knox met my eyes with a slightly amused side-glance of his own. "Tasty?"
"So good," I said with my mouth full.
He seemed to be fighting a laugh. "If you're happy, I'm happy."
"Oh, is that how it is?" I asked, my attitude revving up like a souped-up motorbike. "If I'm happy? If any of this craziness makes me happy, then you're happy?"
"Gem," he sighed. With night falling so early these days, the evening golden hour already cast long shadows and glimmering copper light across his smooth features.
"What?" I asked, my mouth already overly full. I shoved another onion ring in there anyway.
"Are you trying to ward me off with onions like I'm a vampire?" he teased weakly.
"Is it working?"
"No." He spared another fast, intense look my way before returning his eyes to the road. "I'll just tie you up and bend you over so you can't assault me with your food choices."
A piece of onion ring breading fell out of my mouth as I gaped at him. Recovering quickly, I chewed fast and swallowed. "You don't mean that." He slid a look full of dark promises my way as we stopped at a red light. I swallowed again. "Maybe you do."
"You've been begging for a punishment, Gemma. Don't you think?"
Oh, fuck me, I had. I licked my lips. "What kind of punishment?"
"Well, it wouldn't be much of a punishment if you knew what was coming, would it?" He leaned his temple against his fist, staring at me in the deepening shadows. "Would you like to find out?"
I had to stop myself from bouncing in my seat. It probably wasn't very cool of me to get bubbly about getting tied up, but my God, I desperately wanted to be. The men I'd been with in the past had been worse than vanilla. They'd been selfish . Whatever position they wanted or as fast as they desired was how our nights went. I'd actually convinced myself that good sex was a myth at this point. The last two days with Rook had been rapidly rewriting that theory.
I swallowed the onion rings down with soda and did my best to avoid any more onions in the burger, like the traitor to myself that I was. One mention of fun sex and I gave up all efforts to stand up for myself. But before I could spiral down that funnel of thought, Knox reached over and took my hand in his, bringing it to his lips. Watching Knox be affectionate was like seeing an honest-to-God vampire. I stared blankly, and he smiled before letting our hands fall to my lap.
"I know this whole mess has been hard for you. I want you to know, I'm going to make sure you're safe, Gemma. You'll have a good place to live, and no matter what happens with us from this point, you are my priority." He gave my hand a squeeze. "Sticking it to my mom is satisfying, but it doesn’t seem like she’s going to hand it over to us the easy way. Give me a few days to talk it over with Azura, and we’ll come up with something else. You’re my priority, Gem. Not winning.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. "Shut up," I said thickly.
Knox snorted. "How did I know you were going to respond that way? No. I'm not going to shut up. You aren't just a fun fling, Gem. You're my friend and living with you has been the happiest I've been in a long time."
I wanted to say that I felt the same way, that having him there had been a comfort , not a hardship. Knowing he would be home when I was had made me feel safe and content. Becoming friends with him had been fun. But I couldn't make myself say it. Every time I had done that, the person I’d loved had left. "Oh," I said, my voice breaking.
He smiled mildly. "I've got your back, Gem. Do I need to write that down as a house rule?"
"Maybe," I laughed with tears in my voice. I swiped them away with a sniff. "And I'm writing one, too."
"What's that?"
I gave him a sly smile. "Share your hobbies with the class, Fudgecake."