9. Nina
Chapter nine
Nina
By the next morning, I felt a little better. It was kinda my thing, having a high rebound rate. I tried not to dwell on the gloom for too long, and a good night’s sleep was usually enough to snap me back into a pleasant mood.
Unfortunately, I didn’t finish my painting yesterday. I ended up crying for a bit after Knox left and then I’d spent the rest of the day scrolling through Pinterest on my iPad and drawing inspiration from the world.
The crazy thing was, I never knew when my paintings were finished; I usually just felt like it. I’d take one look at my work, nod and say, “Yup, that’s done. I have nothing left to give,” and that would be it.
It was almost eight in the morning, which meant Knox had yet to leave for work. Since he’d been here, I’d figured out his schedule. He only went to the office three days a week, and on Wednesdays and Fridays, he worked from home.
Even though I was in a better mood, I wanted to avoid him if I could. Though not for too long. I’d woken up to an invitation from an upstairs neighbor who was throwing a welcome party this weekend for the newcomers in the building. I didn’t know if Knox would be open to attending, but I planned to tell him since he was a “newcomer” too.
I was thinking about how I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee and maybe a quick sandwich. But as I trudged into the kitchen, I froze, staring in disbelief at the giant whiteboard that now dominated the wall next to the fridge.
“What the actual fuck?” I breathed.
The whiteboard was filled with neat, color-coded lists: daily chores, weekly tasks, meal planning, and—was that a schedule for bathroom use?
“Knox!”.
He appeared in the kitchen, holding a freshly brewed cup of coffee like he was in his natural habitat, already dressed for work. He glanced at the whiteboard with a satisfied nod before turning to me, his expression was almost bored. He didn’t even bother with a greeting.
“What?” he asked bluntly, not even pretending to care.
I gestured wildly at the whiteboard. “What the fuck is this?”
“It’s called organization,” Knox replied dryly, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “Something this place desperately needs.”
“Organization? This is insane! We’re not in boot camp, Knox. We’re roommates.”
“Exactly,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “Which means we both need to pull our weight. This isn’t your personal playground, Nina.”
My jaw tightened. This fucking man… “I know how to keep an apartment clean without turning it into a military operation.”
His voice took on a patronizing tone. “Look, Nina, I’m not interested in living in a mess. If you have a problem with that, maybe you should try being a little less… chaotic.”
I didn’t need this shit this morning. It was too fucking early.
“Chaotic?” My voice rose an octave. “Just because I don’t live by a rigid schedule doesn’t mean I’m chaotic! I function just fine.”
Knox snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Sure, if functioning means leaving dishes in the sink for more than an hour and never putting things back where they belong.”
I glared at him, fists clenched at my sides. “I’m not a slob, Knox. I clean up… Eventually.”
“Eventually isn’t good enough. I’m not asking for much. Just follow the fucking schedule.”
I could feel my blood boiling. “You’re not my boss, Knox! You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
He rolled his eyes. Actually rolled his eyes at me. I scoffed. He was impossible. How the hell could anyone stand him?
“As long as we’re living under the same roof, I have every right to make sure this place doesn’t turn into a disaster zone because you can’t handle basic responsibilities,” he said.
It was obvious that he only wanted to control things around here. Well, I would not let him. I opened my mouth before I remembered it’d just be a waste of breath. Besides, I didn’t want to escalate things any further.
“Fine,” I snapped, making my voice low and dangerous. “I’ll stick to your stupid rules. But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”
All I got as a reaction was a blank stare. “I don’t care if you’re happy. Just do your part.”
I glared at him, hating the way he could get under my skin so easily. Grabbing a cup, I poured myself some of the stupid coffee he’d stupidly brewed, trying to ignore the burning resentment building inside me. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.
***
The next morning when I woke up, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the house. It was becoming a thing now, waking up to the scent of caffeine. I yawned, stretched, and shuffled into the kitchen. Knox was already there, reading the news on his MacBook, coffee mug in-hand. He didn’t bother glancing up at me as he nodded toward the counter where a basket of muffins was.
“Morning,” he drawled, his voice devoid of emotion.
I scowled, reaching for a muffin before turning to the coffeemaker.
As I took my first sip, I noticed a bright yellow Post-it note stuck to the fridge. In Knox’s— obviously —precise handwriting, it read: Don’t forget to take out the trash.
I stared at the note, my grip tightening on my mug. I glanced at Knox, who was still engrossed in his MacBook. The audacity of the guy—did he really think I needed a reminder for something so basic? I swear, he was the human version of period cramps. Unnecessary and entirely annoying.
Here , I thought as I crumpled the note in my hand and tossed it into the trash, let me file that under “fuck you.”
It was past nine already. No office today for him. Though the fact that he was wearing one of those illegal compression shirts wasn’t good for my overall mental wellbeing. I mean, come on. I was ovulating. It just wasn’t fair.
“Right.” I said, a lightbulb shining over my head as I bit into the muffin. I opened my mouth to speak, but Knox’s sharp gaze stopped me.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
I sent him another glare that didn’t even faze him, the fucking prick, though I chewed slowly, swallowed and pushed the muffin down with a sip of coffee.
“We got invited to a party this Friday,” I muttered.
His gaze was still on me, now confused. “We?”
“Yes. We. It’s a welcoming party for the new people in the building. We have to go.”
Huffing, he lifted his head to me, giving me his full attention. “ We aren’t going anywhere.”
Hmm. Well, well, well. What do we have here?
I bit back a teasing smile, trying not to let my amusement show. “Why not? Are you antisocial?”
“Of course not,” Knox said sharply. “I just prefer quiet places. Preferably with fewer people. Or no people at all.”
I made a show of scoffing way too many times. “Surely, you’re not scared? I mean, someone like you would never allow something as ridiculous as a party to frighten him. Right?”
If he noticed what I was trying to do, it was either he didn’t care, or he wanted to prove me wrong. Either way, the absolute pleasure I felt when he scowled and said, “Fine. We’ll go to your stupid party” was almost comical.
Smiling victoriously, I stood up. “Great. See you Friday.”
***
Truth be told, I wasn’t much of a party girl myself. Sure, I’d been to my fair share of parties in both high school and college, and I’d even thrown some before, but they usually ended very quickly for me. The ever-flowing crowd and never-ending alcohol, drugs, sex and, ugh… I got tired of it.
But Lindsay and I still made it a habit to find time to enjoy our university days by attending some parties or raves. One of those “I don’t want to look back and regret” kind of things. On graduation night, we’d partied so hard that we’d both woken up in some random guy’s bed in a room we had no recollection of ever entering. But it was fun.
With Knox though, not so much.
The party was in full swing when we arrived. Fairy lights draped across the spacious living room just like ours, music thumping, and people scattered everywhere, mingling, laughing, just having a good time. I scanned the scene with a smile. Even though it was sometimes exhausting, it wasn’t out of my element. Knox, on the other hand, looked like he’d rather be in a dentist’s chair.
“Do we have to be here?” His voice was already grating on my nerves, and we hadn’t even crossed the threshold of social interaction yet.
“Yes, we do.” I shot him a sideways glance. He was scanning the crowd like a soldier entering hostile territory. “Why are you standing like you expect to be ambushed at any moment?”
“Because people are unpredictable. Someone could talk to me,” he muttered, a hint of real dread in his voice.
I laughed, grabbing his arm and tugging him along. “Oh no, the horror. People talking to you.”
Knox groaned but followed, his body stiff as if the idea of mingling physically hurt him. I was already making my rounds. Smiling, greeting familiar faces of people I’d already met, enjoying the vibe. This was easy for me, like swimming in calm water. Growing up with rich parents meant attending different functions and events and learning how to engage people in conversation.
A glance at Knox’s stiff shoulders made me roll my eyes. “This is ridiculous. Don’t you work in public relations or something? Do you publicly relate with stones?”
His glare was sharp. “That’s work. An entirely different scenario.”
“Is it? Isn’t talking to people what you do all day?”
“Again, work,” he scowled at me, just as a young lady hit his shoulder while she passed by. The veins in his neck almost popped out. “At the office, I don’t have to deal with terrible music and unnecessary noise, and everybody is focused on one thing: making money. This is a massive waste of time.”
“Well, you did say parties don’t frighten you. And it’s just a few hours. I don’t see what the fuss is about. Let loose, you psycho. Dance. Mingle. Flirt.” I threw him a look over my shoulder. “You do know how to flirt, don’t you?”
A wry expression replaced the scowl on his face. “A lot of questions for someone who claims she doesn’t give a fuck about me.”
I shrugged, mentally cursing myself for showing interest. “I don’t. Do whatever you want.”
A few minutes later of watching him awkwardly hover, I found myself whispering, “You can’t just stand there and look like you’re about to fire someone.”
Knox blinked at me; his eyes wide as if I’d suggested something horrific. “What else am I supposed to do?”
“Smile,” I said through gritted teeth. “You know, move your lips upward. It’s not that hard.”
He gave me an unimpressed look. “I’m not a circus performer.”
“No, you’re just the only person here who looks like they’re plotting an escape route, in case someone offers you a drink.”
“I don’t drink punch. It’s usually spiked.”
“It’s a party, Knox. It’s supposed to be spiked,” I said, my frustration bubbling up.
He grumbled something under his breath, but before I could respond, a familiar face approached, grinning like she was already three sheets to the wind.
“Nina! So glad you could make it!” Cindy, the perpetually cheerful neighbor who’d invited us, hugged me like we were old friends. I smiled back, enjoying her warmth. She was probably in her late thirties, with auburn hair and even bigger breasts than me. Once she let me go, she gathered Knox into a hug as well as she squashed him with her bosom, causing me to bite my lip to hold back a chuckle.
The poor guy froze. Not in a metaphorical sense. He was literally standing stock-still, arms awkwardly at his sides, like he’d forgotten how to function as a human.
“And this must be…” Cindy’s eyes flicked over Knox as she pulled away, and she paused, sensing the tension rolling off him in waves.
“Knox,” I filled in, trying to defuse the moment with a grin. A thought occurred to me. He’d never been nice to me, so why should I make life easy for him? “He’s… not really a party person.”
Cindy was positively surprised. “Oh. Are you dating?” Without waiting for either of us to respond, she squealed like a teenager. “Oh my God. You look so cute together!” She looked behind her, as if searching for someone, and then waved said someone over. “Penn, come. Meet the young couple who just moved in. Aren’t they just the cutest?”
A barrel-chested man approached us.
“Oh my fucking God,” I heard Knox mutter beside me.
I couldn’t help the laugh that flew out of my throat as I inched closer to Knox and wrapped my hands around his arm. “Thank you so much for inviting us, Cindy.”
Normally, I would fly off in the other direction if anyone called me Knox’s girlfriend, but he looked so adorable, uncomfortable, and when would I ever get the chance to make his life hell again?
“Sure thing, Nina. That’s a handsome man you’ve got there.” Just as she spoke, Penn reached us holding two red cups. “Here. My husband brought you some drinks.”
“Hi, Penn,” I smiled at him, taking one cup. “Thanks.”
Knox only stared at it as if it was snake venom.
I elbowed him, speaking through clenched teeth. “Take it.”
Knox, not one for subtlety, shook his head. “No, thanks. I don’t imbibe.”
Cindy and her husband shifted uncomfortably. I could practically see her regretting why she invited us.
“So, Knox, what do you do?” Penn jumped in, clearly eager to make conversation. He seemed like a nice enough man.
Knox blinked, clearly struggling to find the words. “Uh… stuff. Work stuff.”
I stifled a scoff, enjoying watching him squirm under the most basic of questions.
“What kind of work?” Penn pressed on, oblivious to Knox’s discomfort.
His eyes narrowed, and I knew he was seconds away from giving the least helpful answer possible. “PR.”
Penn nodded slowly, and the awkward silence stretching longer by the second. Now this was getting painful.
“Knox owns a PR agency,” I interjected, throwing him a lifeline. “He’s great at handling crises and making people look good.”
As well as finding people’s weaknesses and weaponizing them.
“Oh, that’s great!” Penn said enthusiastically. “I could use some help with my business’s online image. We’ve been struggling to—”
Knox cut him off. “I don’t do consultations.”
I wanted to strangle him. “He’s kidding! He’s just being… selective.”
Cindy and Penn laughed nervously, clearly sensing the tension, while Knox shot me a glare that could melt steel.
“Selective isn’t the word I’d use,” he muttered under his breath.
Our hosts made their excuses and as soon as they left, I whirled on him. “Seriously?”
“What?” He shrugged, completely unapologetic.
“You’re the worst at this,” I groaned, half-laughing, half-annoyed.
“You dragged me here. I didn’t want to come.”
“And yet, here you are, bringing the mood down like it’s a personal vendetta.”
“Then let’s go home.”
I didn’t miss the giddy feeling in my abdomen when he said “home.”
“No way. Not with all these hot men around,” I said instead. “You go. I’ll stay.”
He sighed, “Then I’m staying too.”
I shook my head, wondering what the hell his problem was. If he didn’t want to stay, then why didn’t he just leave?
For the rest of the night, we stayed side-by-side, answering questions about our relationship— or at least I did. Knox looked ready to bolt at any moment—and let everyone know we were happily in love.
It was the most fun I’d had in a while. At some point I wondered if Knox’s presence was sorely for me as protection, because he went from playing angry to rejecting drinks on my behalf and scaring away the hot men that dared to venture close to me with his brooding eyes.
I would have been pissed if it wasn’t hilarious.
“Aw, come on,” I moaned after he scared the fourth guy away. “That one was seriously so hot!”
Knox glared at me. “What are you, five?”
“Yeah, five weeks without sex! I’m dying here,” I whined, unsure why I felt the need to relay such information. Blame it on ovulation.
Knox’s expression darkened. “You’re not sleeping with anyone. In fact, that’s it. Let’s go. We’ve overstayed our welcome.”
He grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the door, and, for a split moment, I stupidly wondered if he was jealous.