2. Knox
CHAPTER TWO
KNOX
This girl is amazing.
We’ve been talking for what feels like hours, and I never want to stop. These past couple of days have been a rollercoaster—I don’t really know how to feel about everything that’s happened—but she seems to have become the bright spot in the darkness in just a matter of minutes.
It’s hard to tell since she’s sitting down, but she looks to be on the tall side. Her dark-brown hair is wild, reaching all the way down to her waist in wide curls, wispy bangs falling over large, dark eyes that seem to reach something deep inside me, taking hold.
I’m trying really hard not to objectify her—especially after finding out how cool she is—but damn.
I can tell from the way she’s dressed that she’s going for a professional look, but her skirt is cut so well, hugging every single one of her curves, and the shirt’s buttons are unopened enough that it’s making my imagination run wild. It’s almost obscene.
She looks to be in her mid-thirties—older than me. But none of that shit matters, at the end of the day.
And it isn’t just that she’s gorgeous—because she is. No, she’s also sarcastic and witty and spicy and has made me feel more alive in the past several minutes than I’ve felt in a while.
I’ve been trying to play it cool, to not seem too overeager or intense, but the low light coming from overhead does nothing to help my case.
The soft beams reflect off her hair, showing hints of red undertones, shining on her like a spotlight, making sure she’s all I see.
I wanna pull out my camera and capture them—capture her and this moment.
But I don’t think she would take too kindly to a stranger asking for a photo.
We’re surrounded by people, but I barely acknowledge their existence.
In just a few minutes, she’s become the center of everything, and I’m wrapped up in every single word that comes out of her mouth.
Lottie unconsciously flips her hair over her shoulder as she discusses the advantages and disadvantages of living in a small town, and it’s got her fired up in an adorable yet fierce way. Like a tiny, feral kitten.
“I’m not saying living in a small town is horrible,” she clarifies, “but there’s just no comparison to living in a metropolitan area.
I mean, you have so much more access to everything.
And most of the bigger cities have fantastic public transportation, which small towns don’t.
You need a car to get around, and having a car is really expensive.
Have you seen the price of gas these days? ”
I laugh at how inexplicably passionate she feels about small-town life. “Seems like you have strong feelings about the topic.”
She nods with a blush and a grin. “A bit of an understatement.”
“Then why are you still living here? Why not get out, then?”
Her face falls, and I suddenly regret asking the question. She’s so beautiful when she smiles, and I’m pretty sure I was right when I told her I bet she didn’t give those away easily. I don’t want to do anything to risk losing the privilege of seeing it again.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, you’re fine. My being here is… It’s temporary. I hope.”
“Gotcha,” I say, shooting her an encouraging smile.
She clears her throat and takes a sip of her martini.
What I wouldn’t give to be that martini glass right about now…
“What about you? What brings you to our lovely beach town in the off season? You here visiting someone or something?”
Not wanting to get into it, I say, “Or something.” I force a grin, hoping it comes off more coy and less serial killer. I’m not about to let my emotional baggage ruin what’s looking to be an amazing night. At least considering the circumstances. “Visiting family. Kinda.”
I could tell her the truth... But honestly, that’s just gonna depress us both, and I’m done letting my father live rent free in my head. He doesn’t deserve it.
Lottie raises a quizzical eyebrow. “What kind of family?” She presses her lips together, trying not to smile.
I can’t help my laugh or the giddy, ridiculous way I feel.
“Is that your lame attempt at double-checking whether I’m single or not?
Checking whether I have a wife or something?
” I casually take a sip of my beer, but my stomach is in knots.
I actually like this girl. It’s the first time in a really long time that I feel this sort of connection with anyone—maybe even ever.
She smirks and shrugs, blushing. “Or something.”
A huge grin spreads across my face. “Well, I am, for the record. Single, I mean. No wife. No girlfriend. No partner. Free as a bird.” I smile, and she laughs again tipping her head back in a way that makes my abs tighten.
“That laugh… Every time it’s like it bursts through you. Like you’re surprised by it because you don’t do it often.” Which of course, makes me smile even harder. I get to make her laugh, and already it feels like a privilege.
Lottie’s eyes widen, like I’ve caught her in the act of something she never wanted anyone to know.
“Sorry, it’s just…” I sigh, shaking my head.
“You’re… observant.” She purses her lips, studying me.
“It’s my job to be. I’m a photojournalist. Freelance.”
“Ah. That explains the camera bag, then.” Her lips quirk just a bit.
I laugh softly. “Yup. And what do you do?”
She takes another sip in an attempt to hide a grimace, but I catch it.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Knox. I’m not exactly in the best place, professionally speaking.
Or personally. Or… Screw it, I’ll be the first to say it: I’m a goddamn mess right now.
So I don’t want tonight to be about that.
For the first time in a while I’m having fun, and there’s no way I’m going to let my mess of a life get in the way. So, does it matter? What I do, I mean?”
I sit up straighter in my seat, surprised by her honesty.
“Wow. I… appreciate your honesty. So many people nowadays whitewash their lives, showing people only what’s on the surface.
” And here’s this woman—this smart, funny, beautiful woman—a stranger I only just met in a bar admitting that her life isn’t perfect, but she doesn’t want tonight to feel like it.
She doesn’t want it to darken this. She’s not telling me why it isn’t perfect, but at least she isn’t lying about it, she isn’t giving me some bullshit highlight reel.
“It’s refreshing to see someone be vulnerable and real,” I tell her. And maybe that’s the allure of being with a stranger. Of being able to act and speak without a filter, without fear of being judged. Because you’re never going to see each other again, so why the hell not?
And it’s what I need tonight, too. I need to be with someone I like but don’t know. I need to not think about it all. I need to be able to connect without feeling tied down.
“Thanks, I guess?” She huffs once. “I will volunteer one thing about work though: I get unlimited access to Post-Its, so there’s that.”
I smile broadly. “Oh, yeah? You got a thing for Post-its, Pretty Girl?”
“Definitely. I don’t know what I would do without them.” Lottie laughs in spite of herself, and I wanna kiss her. “They’re the way to my heart.”
“Good to know. Gotta keep that in mind for the future.” I tap the side of my head with my index finger and smirk, watching her blush.
As we laugh, I unconsciously move my hand that was resting on the bar closer to hers, fingertips less than an inch apart.
Our eyes meet briefly, filled with a sudden need, one that I’ve felt building since I first saw her.
My lower stomach tightens and I decide to go for it; to move my hand and cover hers with it, our fingers interlacing.
It’s a ballsy move, I know. I mean, I’ve known this woman for less than a night, but something about it feels right.
“Work is dumb,” she says, her voice shaky. “Let’s pretend we’re both unemployed, yeah? Sound good?”
I smile broadly at her and bring her hand to my lips. “I mean, I work freelance, so it’s basically the same thing, isn’t it?”
At that, she laughs even harder than before, her face glowing, the previous lightness returning. My chest tightens and I can’t help but panic slightly. Yes, I might need a stranger just for tonight, but suddenly the thought of never seeing her again doesn’t sound great.
Shit.
With my other hand, I reach out, push her long bangs away from her eyes, and smile tenderly at her. Something inside me shifts, my heart beating like a loud drum in a quick beat.
“Can I—” I hesitate, frowning. “Can I take you out to dinner?”
“I… Right now?” I nod, heart racing as I wait impatiently for her to think it over. “Sure,” she murmurs after some thought.
An unfamiliar feeling radiates through me, something a little like hope. And for the first time in a long time, I feel a little less lonely.
“I used to come here all the time on Sundays with my parents and siblings,” Lottie volunteers as we walk into the family restaurant next door. “It’s a bit run down these days, though.”
I hadn’t noticed. I’ve been too busy staring at her ass, at the way her hips sway side to side in that tight skirt as the hostess walks us to our booth.
When we settle into our seats, a sudden wave of nerves crashes over me. “Hey,” I say, my heart racing.
She smirks at my awkwardness, gingerly placing her napkin in her lap. “Hey.”
Her lips look soft and pink, and her skin is flushed. I hope to god it’s a reaction to what I feel happening between the two of us tonight, and not just the two martinis she had at the bar.
An awkward silence settles between us as we wait for the waitress, and I hate this moment for us.
Wracking my brain to get rid of this horrible vacuum before it ruins an otherwise amazing night, I try for a bad joke to break the ice: “There’s something I should tell you before we let the night go on further,” I start, voice deadpan. “I tell a lot of dad jokes.”
She presses her lips together, trying not to smile. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I nod seriously. “But I don’t have any kids. I’m a faux Pa.”
She blinks at me for a few seconds. “Wow. I cannot believe you just said that.”
I burst out laughing at my own joke, loving the way she smiles while muttering “You’re such a loser” under her breath.
“So, what’s good here?” I ask, ignoring Lottie’s comment. I flip through the worn menu with plastic covers, trying to act as casual as possible. She’s so quiet, I have to sneak a peek at her. Thankfully, I catch her looking at me with a smile on her face.
“Will you quit staring at me like that?” she asks, but her voice is light.
“Sorry.” I feel my cheeks heat.
“You’re cute when you’re awkward, you know that?”
I exhale slowly. “I guess I’m suddenly a little nervous.” I fidget with the fork on the table, overcome with a wave of insecurity, of fear that this thing we’re doing is going to go wrong and I’ll never see her again.
Which is dumb, right? I mean, I don’t even live here.
What am I doing? This is sure to be a one-night thing.
It’s what I wanted when I first spoke to her.
What I thought I wanted not more than twenty minutes ago.
Maybe I could’ve stretched this out by a couple of days depending on how long I stay in town.
And that’s if she lets me see her again.
“I feel like I’m fucking this up.” In so many different ways.
Lottie looks up from her menu and smiles. She reaches out to place a hand on mine, stopping my movements. “Hey. I don’t know about you, but I’m having a really good time.”
I drop my menu on the table and place my other hand directly on hers, creating a Lottie hand sandwich. “Yeah. I’m having a pretty great time, too.”
She pulls her hand free, but not before shooting me a wink. I reach out and pull it back in mine but accidentally knock over the fake candle votive and tiny vase of flowers instead.
“You’re kind of a mess, aren’t you?” She smirks, fixing the arrangement in the center of the table.
“Me?” I ask in mock outrage, pointing at myself. “What are you talking about? Are you saying you’re not impressed by my suaveness?”
She snorts, not unkindly, and takes a sip of her water. “Super suave, Casanova. It’s part of why I’m so attracted to you.”
“Oh?” I smile, dropping the act and sitting up in my seat. “You’re attracted to me?”
Her eyes widen. “Uh, I only meant that—” she stammers. “I—”
“No, no. You’re attracted to me, it’s cool,” I say, getting a kick out of watching her scramble for words.
I try to control it, but something in my chest swells and a shit-eating grin spreads across my face because she’s into me.
This amazing, smart, hot as hell woman is into me.
I feel like a fucking lovestruck teenager.
“You’re not allowed to take it back now. You’re attracted to me.”
Lottie looks me straight in the eye. “I’m—I don’t know. I told you. I’m having a good time,” she says with a shrug, and takes a sip of her water, avoiding my gaze.
“Yeah, you mentioned that.” I smile fondly at her and reach out, taking her hand once again, keeping it in mine this time. I don’t feel like letting go of this girl any time soon.
Lottie stares down at our joined hands on the table and blushes. “I don’t do this often. Or at all, if I’m being honest,” she whispers, as if revealing her deepest darkest secret.
“Go on dates with strangers you met less than two hours ago?”
“Go on dates. Period.”
A little in love with the fact that I’m an exception, I give her hands an encouraging squeeze.
“Lottie?” I ask.
“Yes, Knox?” She presses her lips together to keep from laughing at the sudden intensity I feel in my expression, but I’m not trying to be funny.
“Lottie, I really wanna kiss you right now,” I say in all seriousness. “Can I?”
She takes another sip of water and looks in every direction but mine before settling her gaze on my lips. Finally, she says, “Okay.”