Cheyenne
Kia couldn’t be any sweeter. There’s something about her that’s warm and easy. She’s the kind of person who makes you feel included without any effort. As much as I’m trying to focus on our conversation, my attention keeps getting snagged by Knox stretched out on the floor with Elody.
They played a few rounds of Go Fish, and now he’s helping her build something out of brightly colored blocks while she talks a mile a minute about preschool, dragons, and how she’s going to be a big sister.
He listens intently, like every word matters, and even though I try to stop it from happening, my insides melt.
When the little girl gets frustrated and the tower tips over, he doesn’t sigh or tease. He helps rebuild it so it’s bigger and better than the previous one.
“Try again, wild thing. You’ve got this.”
She beams at him like he hung the moon.
It’s not a surprise that he’s so good with Elody. He’s always been amazing with Britt and Colby’s kids. I’ve seen him down on the floor at family gatherings, letting Avery braid his hair or Maddox chase him around the backyard with a Nerf gun.
But seeing him here, in someone else’s home, in this quiet, everyday way, hits differently.
Maybe because there’s no audience or noise.
He’s not trying to charm anyone or captivate the room.
He’s just sitting on the floor in jeans and a T-shirt, helping a little girl rebuild a block tower like it’s the most important job in the world.
He’s both patient and present. Those aren’t words I would’ve used to describe Knox McNichols before.
Kia nudges my arm. “He’s such a softie. Elody adores him.”
I glance at her. “Pretty sure he has that effect on females of all ages.”
She laughs. “Isn’t that the truth.”
We make plans for tomorrow—shopping first and then coffee. She tells me about a little boutique on the Magnificent Mile that her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Rina, took her to that has an amazing selection of gowns.
“That sounds fun. I can’t wait.”
Strangely enough, I mean it.
It occurs to me that, other than the occasional outing with my sisters, I’ve never done something this ordinary with another woman. I’ve never gone shopping, grabbed coffee, or just hung out.
I don’t really have friends in LA. I have acquaintances.
Most of them are catty and competitive, and I’m never quite sure if what they say to my face is real or if they talk behind my back the second I leave the room.
After being burned a few times by women I thought were my friends, I’ve learned it’s easier to keep my distance.
No one would ever guess that a life filled with shows, teams of assistants, and fans could feel lonely, but most of the time, that’s exactly what it is.
Which is what makes this feel so strange. Kia doesn’t want anything from me. She isn’t sizing me up or waiting for me to slip so she can call TMZ. She’s just offering kindness. It’s so simple and unexpected, I’m almost not sure what to do with it.
Tomorrow shouldn’t matter as much as it does. But the idea of spending a few hours doing something normal with a woman who feels easy to be around fills me with a quiet kind of happiness I’m not familiar with.
When it’s finally time for Elody to go to bed, she throws her arms around Knox’s neck.
“You’ll come back and play again, right?” she asks.
“Of course,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The heartfelt way he says it softens my insides.
After saying our goodbyes, we step into the entryway.
As soon as the elevator doors slide closed, sealing us inside the small space, silence descends.
Without Elody’s exuberant chatter or Kia talking about the stores we can visit, there’s nothing to distract from the fact that it’s just the two of us again, standing too close in a box of mirrored walls while his clean, masculine scent teases my senses.
I clear my throat as the car descends through the building. “Thanks.”
He glances at me. “For what?”
“For introducing me to your friends. Kia seems nice.”
“She is.”
“And now I won’t be alone while shopping since you don’t trust me out in the world by myself,” I add.
He side-eyes me. “I trust you.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“It’s Denver I don’t trust.”
I huff out a laugh before I can stop it. “Dakota.”
“Whatever.”
I turn just enough to take him in. He’s standing with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders relaxed, expression inscrutable.
What I’m starting to understand is that unreadable on Knox doesn’t mean unaffected.
The man notices everything. Plans things without making a big deal out of it.
Decides what needs to transpire and then maneuvers it into happening.
I think about the way he texted Laiken earlier, not hesitating to introduce me to his teammate and wife. The way he made sure I had someone to go shopping with tomorrow without making a big production out of it.
It’s unexpectedly thoughtful, and more than what I expected.
It’s not that Knox isn’t hot, arrogant, or bossy. I’ve known that for years. It’s the quieter parts that catch me off guard. The way he makes room for me without drawing attention to it. The way he takes care of things without making me feel weak for needing help.
It occurs to me that Knox might not be as easy to dismiss as I’ve always told myself.
Which could be a problem.
Keeping my distance was simple when I could write him off as nothing more than a handsome playboy. But now…
He’s revealing himself to be so much more than that.
When the doors slide open on his floor, he gestures for me to step out first. As we walk into the penthouse, I’m hit with a realization that makes my pulse kick up.
Our relationship might be fake, but the way he’s handling all of it—the care, the thoughtfulness, the quiet way he keeps stepping in—feels surprisingly real.