Chapter 42
Chapter forty-two
Knox
By the time I pull into the parking lot at Cedar Perk, I’ve already smiled more in the past twelve hours than I probably have in the last six years.
And it’s entirely Brynn Marlow’s fault.
Her laugh’s still echoing in my head. Her bare legs are still imprinted on my memory. That sleepy kiss this morning when she stretched against my chest and whispered, “You’re going to ruin me.” Yeah. I’m not exactly functioning at peak coach mode right now.
I push through the door of the café, scan the room, and spot Cam in a booth near the back.
Of course he’s early. He’s already nursing a black coffee, probably solving an equation in his head or overthinking a text he never sent.
The guy might be a math teacher, but he analyzes emotions like they’re word problems with only one right answer.
He looks up as I slide into the booth across from him. “You look smug.”
I smirk and snag a menu. “You look like you just got back from a date with your tax software.”
Cam snorts into his coffee. “Some of us enjoy a little structure in our downtime.”
“Some of us woke up with a beautiful woman tangled in our sheets,” I say, not even trying to hide it.
His eyebrow lifts. “So…you and Brynn have been spending a lot of time together.”
I shrug one shoulder, even though I’m not sure why I’m pretending. “Yeah. Things are going really good.”
Cam studies me for a second, then leans back, arms crossed. “That’s good, man. I mean it. You look…lighter.”
I nod. “Feels different this time. Better. We’re not rushing into anything, we’re building. We’re both all in. That’s a start.”
“You think she’ll want to go public anytime soon?” he asks, but it’s careful—not nosy, just genuinely curious.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “That’s her call. She’s still carrying a lot from what happened before. I get it. But it’s hard, man. Watching her pretend there’s nothing between us when everyone’s already watching.”
Cam’s quiet for a beat, then says, “Sometimes the weight people carry isn't just about what happened. It's about how much they wanted something, and how it fell apart anyway.”
That one lands harder than I expect. I glance at him. “Are you talking about me, or someone else?”
His mouth quirks. “Maybe both.”
I study him. “Have you been seeing anyone lately?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’ve hit pause on dating for a while.”
That surprises me more than it should. “Since when do you hit pause on anything?”
“Since I realized I was going through the motions,” he says. “Apps, awkward coffee dates, forced chemistry. It feels like noise. I need quiet.”
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned quiet today,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “You sure you don’t just have a crush on someone and don’t want to screw it up?”
He rolls his eyes. “I knew having lunch with you was a mistake.”
“I’m just saying,” I tease. “There’s been a lot of lingering looks at a certain curvy librarian lately.”
Cam’s face stays neutral, but the way he reaches for his coffee feels like a dodge.
“She’s got great taste in books,” he says lightly.
“And men?” I press.
He shoots me a look. “You’re deflecting. Weren’t we talking about you and Brynn?”
“Fine,” I say, holding up my hands. “But just so you know, if you ever want to ask Kate out, I’m not gonna give you a hard time. Much.”
Cam gives me a half-smile, then shakes his head. “We’re friends. Just friends.”
But I catch the hint of something behind his eyes, hesitation, maybe. Or something closer to hope he hasn’t admitted out loud.
Our food arrives—bacon, egg, and cheese for me, avocado toast for Cam because of course—and the conversation shifts to the game, the team, and how many questions Ty can ask about homecoming outfits for chaperones before getting kicked out of the group chat.
Still, even as we laugh and eat and fall into our usual rhythm, I can’t stop thinking about what Cam said. About quiet.
And about how maybe I’m not the only one trying to figure out my feelings.
By the time I get home, it’s late afternoon, and I’ve only got a couple hours before she’s supposed to come over. I should be nervous. I probably am. But more than anything, I’m…excited. Like a kid about to go to prom with the girl he never thought he’d get another shot with.
I put on the suit I save for weddings and interviews.
It’s navy. Tailored. Makes me feel like the man I want to be when I look in her eyes.
I knot the tie carefully, take one last look in the mirror, and run a hand over my jaw, half considering shaving before deciding against it. She likes the scruff. I know she does.
The living room is already set. I moved the furniture after I got home from Cam’s—rolled up the rug, cleared a space, and strung up twinkle lights across the windows.
There’s a playlist queued up, one she’ll recognize from high school slow dances and late-night drives.
I even picked up her favorite takeout and hid a bottle of champagne in the fridge.
All of it stupidly romantic. All of it just for her.
I should feel ridiculous for going all out like this. But I don’t. Because when I picture her walking in—seeing what I’ve put together, realizing it’s all for her—it feels right. More than that, it feels like something I could do forever.
The thought sneaks in quietly, uninvited but not unwelcome: marrying her.
It’s not a wild idea. Not anymore. I’d need a bigger place, something with a real yard and more than a shared wall.
I’d need a ring—something classic and sturdy, something that doesn’t scream money but screams I know you.
There’d be logistics, sure. Compromise. Her job.
My job. The mess of merging two lives that already tried to split apart once.
But it doesn’t feel impossible. It feels like the plan I’ve been carrying around in the back of my head without admitting it. I lean a hand on the back of the couch and exhale slowly.
Jesus, Knox.
Slow down.
This isn’t a proposal. It’s a date. A night meant to remind her that what we have is worth believing in.
First, I need to help her see that. Then I’ll convince her she doesn’t have to stay hidden anymore, that love like ours shouldn’t live in the shadows.
And maybe someday, if I’m lucky, I’ll ask her to stay for good.
But tonight, I just want to see her walk through that door, pull her into my arms, and make her feel like the only girl in the world. Because to me, she always has been.