Chapter 13
Iscan the label of some burger buns, ensuring they’re peanut-safe, then drop them in the cart.
“This is a lot of food,” Rory comments nervously, surveying all that I’ve already tossed in.
“I’m a growing boy,” I say, grabbing some bagels next. “Plus, you’ve got plenty of room in your—”
“Oh fuck.”
“What?” I wonder, glancing around, startled by the swear since Rory doesn’t curse very often.
“Knox Wellington is here. Over by the self-checkout. No, don’t look. Hopefully, he won’t see—”
“Flynn!”
Rory closes her eyes, muttering another low, “Fuck.”
“I didn’t teach you that word so you could overuse it. Just follow my lead.”
Her eyes fly open so she can glare at me. “Don’t you dare—”
“Hey! I thought that was you.” Knox shifts his basket to his left hand so he can hold his right out to me. He grins as we shake hands. “Congrats on graduating. Happy to have you back in New York.”
“Thanks.” I look left, at the woman pretending to be browsing identical loaves of sourdough. “You know Rory, right?”
“I—yes—I mean, of course. Nice to see you, Rory. It’s been a while. Hardly recognized you!” Knox’s laugh is forced. His gaze lingers a lot lower than her face.
I wish I’d let Rory change rather than hustle her out the door due to my hunger. I feel oddly possessive of her current appearance—loose hair and casual clothes—knowing it’s a version of her not many have access to. I didn’t see her in anything resembling comfortable clothing until last week.
“What are you up to?” I ask, drawing Knox’s attention back to me.
“Still at TK Capital,” he tells me, referring to a private equity firm. “Had to head into the office to handle a few things this afternoon, so I’m grabbing some groceries before I go home. What about you”—he glances at Rory—“you guys?”
“I’m working at Locke, Grey, and Lee,” I say.
“Oh, right. Archie mentioned.”
I suddenly recall that Knox was at Proof the night I punched Carson.
I doubt he’d bring that up in front of Rory, which I hope I’m right about.
I suppose it lends credibility to us dating now—making it look like I always had a thing for her—but I’d rather Rory never hear it happened.
I’m not sure how she’d react to hearing I hit her ex.
She’d probably have strong, pacifistic opinions about violence never being the proper response.
“Rory is working at the Manhattan Public Defender’s office.” I glance at her, smiling like a proud boyfriend would. “Practically running the place already.”
“I’m literally the youngest, least experienced lawyer they have,” Rory tells Knox.
There’s a flush on her face that wasn’t there a minute ago though. The temperature in here feels subarctic compared to the heat outside, so I don’t think it has anything to do with the weather.
“How are your parents doing?” she adds, flawlessly polite, as per usual.
“They’re good. Spending most of the summer out on Martha’s Vineyard. My mom thinks taking the ferry is fun.” Knox chuckles, running a hand through his blond hair. “She mentioned they ran into your folks at the terminal last weekend, Flynn. They were visiting the Waylands on Nantucket, I think?”
I nod stiffly. “Sounds right.”
“I’ll probably go out there again before summer ends. The boat ride is nice.” He shifts his basket back to the other hand. “How about yours? Oliver and Hannah keeping busy?”
Knox half smiles as he says it because the Kensingtons aren’t only known as multibillionaires.
They’ve built a thriving empire that extends far beyond this city.
If those businesses weren’t so incredibly successful, they’d have given away most of their net worth by now; they donate to charities and host fundraisers, lending their time and money and energy to dozens of important causes.
It’s obvious where Rory inherited her philanthropic tendencies and work ethic from.
He’s also sucking up since Oliver is his dad’s boss at Kensington Consolidated.
“Always,” Rory confirms. “Wren too. She’s about to start her final year at Cambridge.”
“Wow. That went fast. Feels like she and Nico just graduated from Dalton.”
“I know. It’s crazy.”
They smile at each other, bonding over their younger siblings being the same age and attending the same school. Big fucking deal. I doubt he recalls Rory’s birthday being announced on the intercom each year.
“Looks like you’ve still got a lot of shopping to do,” I note, nodding at Knox’s empty basket.
He glances down, then shrugs. “Oh. Yeah. I usually wander around for a while, buy a couple things, then order takeout.”
“That’s what I normally do,” Rory says. She takes a step to the right, reaching up and squeezing my bicep while she beams at me with such intense affection that it causes a sudden spasm in my chest. “But Flynn insisted on cooking for me tonight. Isn’t that sweet?”
Okay, so I guess we’re not discussing a strategy for how to announce we’re dating. I wasn’t expecting Rory to improvise, but I can absolutely get on board with it.
“My cooking is more spicy than sweet, baby.” I wink at her.
Rory’s smile slips, her usual glare hovering like the sun hides behind clouds.
She used sex euphemisms first.
Knox is doing a shitty job of hiding the disappointment on his face. What the fuck did he think we were doing, grocery shopping together? Starting a catering business? We’re both lawyers. Or about to be, by my father’s definition.
He clears his throat. “Well, it was nice to see you guys.”
“You too,” Rory replies, sounding much more genuine.
I nod an acknowledgment, and then Knox turns and heads back the way he came.
Rory’s hand drops from my arm the second his back is turned, spinning to face the rows of bread again. She grabs a loaf, glances at the label, then tosses it on top of the buns.
I pick it up, peering at the ingredients. “This brand is full of crap. Enriched flour, plus emulsifiers and dough conditioners.”
Rory watches me return the loaf to the shelf and select a different sourdough. “You know a lot about bread.”
“I like bread.”
“Hmm. Do you think I should put Knox on the list?”
I frown. “What list?”
“The list of guys to date after we fake break up.”
My head jerks right, and I study her more closely. “You have a list of guys to date after we fake break up?”
“I don’t have a list; I’m making a list. That was part of your pitch, remember? Matchmaking services, utilizing your extensive knowledge of male behavior and many hours spent partying with every eligible bachelor in New York City?”
My eyes narrow. She sounds serious, but I’m pretty sure she’s making fun of me. “We haven’t broken up yet. We haven’t even announced we’re dating yet.”
“We just did. You basically told Knox we were sleeping together.”
“I was following your lead! What was I supposed to do, slap your hand away?”
She scowls. “Obviously not. But now Knox knows about us.”
“Sex doesn’t equal dating.”
Her glower tightens. Freezes, like a mask. “It does for me.”
I pick up a package of cupcakes and add them to the full cart. “He spent way too long staring at your tits. And he’s friends with Carson. Don’t put him on your list.”
Rory plays with the hem of her shirt. “Shouldn’t cheating override the bro code? Carson made it clear he didn’t want me.”
“All he made clear was that he’s a philandering piece of shit.”
I’m a little surprised by the steel in my tone, and Rory appears taken aback by its presence too.
“I was saying you shouldn’t consider Knox because he’s friends with Carson, not vice versa.”
Rory bites her bottom lip. “You think he knew?”
“I don’t know.”
Knox was feet from the booth where Carson was cheating. They’re both tight with Archie. Guys talk, especially about shit like that. But I don’t know for sure Knox was aware, and I can’t share he was at Proof that night without confessing I was also there, so I don’t add anything else.
“He’s going on the list for now,” Rory decides.
I clench my jaw and continue pushing the cart toward the frozen section, unwilling to analyze why that bothers me so much.