Chapter 8
EMERY
“If your hand slips any further, I’m going to scream,” I mumble quietly as Knox pulls me closer. The smell of fried sugar and hot grease wafts through the air, but nothing can overpower the intoxicating scent of the enemy I’m forced to inhale.
“Sorry, Bambi,” Knox says, choosing to ignore my polite request. “This is our debut as a couple. We need to make it look believable.”
When Knox suggested the county fair as our first official outing, I screamed into my pillow for a solid two minutes before answering. It’s not that I hated the fair—I loved funnel cake as much as the next guy. What I hated was people and these places were overcrowded with them.
But Knox was right. This is the perfect place to debut our love. I’ve already been stared down by a group of terrifying mini blonde teenagers who looked like they wanted to claw my eyes out.
I swallow all of my nervous energy and muster up a warning glance. “I think holding hands would be sufficient. You don’t have to caress the top of my ass.”
He shrugs. “Yes, I do. The people of Honey Grove know I’m an ass man. If I don’t feel you up, they’ll automatically be suspicious.”
I roll my eyes, and he squeezes my hip. “Oh, and Bambi—you need to smile if we’re going to sell this thing. You look like you’re ready to shove a fork in the side of my neck.”
Now that image is something I can get behind. My typical dark frown lightens into the soft smile of monogamous bliss.
We continue to weave through the crowd with noisy laughter and distant screams from the rides swirling surrounding us.
Bright streetlights flicker above, casting everything in a hazy golden light that almost distracts from the row of porta-potties, bringing the scene into a more realistic perspective.
We both stay quiet as we navigate the chaos of the Saturday night crowd.
I can feel heavy stares on my back, but I keep my eyes pointed forward.
If I’m being honest, it’s taking everything in me not to focus on the magnetic pull between Knox and me.
I try to ignore the butterflies wreaking havoc inside my gut, but they have a mind of their own.
Knox steers us toward a cheerful, bright yellow lemonade stand and finally drops his hand from around my waist. I expect to feel relieved, but instead, the spot where his hand rested is cold and empty.
“Lemonade?” he asks, pulling this entire situation back into focus. I give him one nod before he pulls out his wallet and walks up to the booth.
I have to stop myself from scowling when the girl behind the counter goes from a disinterested fog to a pile of soft pink blushes when she looks at Knox. He still has this uncanny effect on women that makes me feel an odd combination of both pride and the bitter twinge of jealousy.
“You have that look on your face again,” Knox says, turning back to me with one large cup of lemonade. I reach out, expecting him to hand me the drink he had offered to buy. Instead, the bastard pulls the straw between his lips and takes one excruciatingly long sip before handing it to me.
“I’m working on it,” I groan, staring at the cup in disgust. “I thought you got this for me.”
“It’s called sharing, Bambi,” he points out, crossing his arms. “Couples like to share things. I don’t remember you having an issue swapping spit with me before.”
I swallow hard, forcing my face into a neutral position.
“Fine,” I mumble, begrudgingly agreeing with him.
I take a sip of the sweet sugary liquid, trying not to think about our lips touching the same place.
Sharing a straw felt too intimate, and yet here I was letting Knox test my boundaries like a feral game of pickleball.
When I look up, his eyes are trained on my bottom lip, sending a tingle down my lower back. And then I decide it’s my turn to test his boundaries.
I swipe my tongue across my bottom lip, cleaning up any stray drops of liquid. His eyes follow the motion, causing his body to go from cool and collected to tense and on edge. A bright ball of delight shines inside me.
Mission accomplished.
“Knoxy,” a man yells, snapping Knox out of our tension-filled bubble. I let out a sigh of relief, not knowing how to break the moment. Maybe I should stay on defense for now.
“Hey, Beau,” Knox smiles, not bothering to look before he knows exactly who it is. He turns around to face his friend, and I follow suit like the good fake girlfriend I am. Which gives him the perfect opportunity to slide his hand into mine.
I guess it’s time to test out our performance.
“So, the rumors are true, huh?” the tall brunette asks, pinning me in place with dark brown eyes. “Knox Cooke has officially been tied down.”
I respond with a sweet smile—which honestly isn’t hard to do. This man is attractive, but not in the same way as Knox, with his boy-next-door charm and blond hair and blue eyes. No, he is rugged looking with long dark hair and a perfectly groomed beard.
“I’m Emery,” I say, reaching out my free hand not already claimed by Knox’s tightening grip. He isn’t giving that hand up anytime soon.
Beau takes it, flashing a sinister smile. “I remember you. You were the girl that Knox was obsessed with when we were kids. You left him heartbroken when you went back home that summer.”
Bile rises up my throat as I pull my hand away from his. I left him heartbroken? Was that the story he weaved after I left that summer? I bet he used his sweet little sob story to get more pity fucks than he knew what to do with.
Knox squeezes my hand tight, almost like he’s trying to send me a message. I ignore it and swallow the rage simmering inside me.
“Yep, that’s me,” I say, leaning hard into Knox’s side. I wiggle my hand out of his and wrap both arms around his waist. “But I was an idiot back then and didn’t realize what I had. But I’m here now, and I’m so happy he’s giving me a second chance.”
Knox stiffens enough for me to know, but not enough to set off any red flags. His arm hovers around me like he’s not sure whether to pull me closer or push me away.
Beau raises a brow, either amused or skeptical. I’m not entirely sure, nor do I care. “Wow. That’s very…sweet. I didn’t think old Knoxy would ever settle down, but I guess I’ve been wrong before.”
“It’s new,” Knox says, his voice dry, “but it’s going really well so far.”
“I’d say it’s going more than well, babe,” I chide, ignoring one of my one rules.
“That’s great, man,” Beau says, his heavy stare continuing to bounce back and forth between us. This little charade is starting to fall apart with Knox not playing along.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Beau,” I sigh, stepping away from Knox’s side, “but I’m going to let you two catch up. Babe, I’m going to get a funnel cake. Do you want anything?”
I swear I hear a strangled sigh slip from his lips. “No, babe. I’m good, but thank you,” he answers, throwing the pet name back in my face.
I end our strained conversation with a tight smile before turning on my heel and trying to walk away normally, even though I want to stomp through the dirt like a deranged toddler.
The more distance I put between Knox and me, the lighter I feel. A dull pain pulses between my temples. I want to leave and crawl back into my isolated slice of heaven with my cat, surrounded by piles of uncovered treasures. But I can’t.
I find an empty bench and collapse against the splintered wood, thanking past me for deciding to wear jeans tonight. I close my eyes and take in long, deep breaths, trying to calm down the storm raging inside me.
I can’t believe Knox was convincing everyone he was the heartbroken one when he was the one who crushed me.
I was going to move here permanently for him, and he freaked out at the first sign of commitment.
It took me forever to trust another guy after that, but maybe I need to reassess my judgment because here I am eight years later, and I haven’t learned a damn thing.
My hand tightens around the half-melted lemonade cup in my hand. It’s watered down now, but I take a sip anyway. If anything, I need to do something other than scream. I should’ve brought my pillow with me.
Footsteps crunch toward me in the gravel, and when I look up, I expect to see Knox, but instead I’m greeted with a fake smile and an even faker tan to match.
“Hi there,” the blonde says, leering down at me. I raise my eyebrows and give her Daisy Dukes and tall, fake cowboy boots a once-over. We were in rural New York—not Texas.
“Hey,” I say, rising to my feet. She is still taller than me, but at least I meet her eye line from this level. “Do I know you?”
The girl tilts her head, blonde extensions cascading over her shoulders. “Not yet,” she says. Her voice sounds sweet, but somehow condescending. “But I’ve heard plenty about you.”
I am not in the mood for this mean girl shit. I nod my head, waiting for her to continue.
“I’m Ava,” she proceeds, not offering any gesture of goodwill. “Knox and I used to…hang out.”
So basically, she’s saying she’s seen him naked without actually saying it. I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I knew what I was walking into. I nod again and clench my lips into an impartial smile, which was becoming second nature for me.
“Okay,” I reply, crossing my arms and leaning on my hip, “and what’s the point of telling me that?”
Her eyes narrow on mine, but she doesn’t show any sign of backing off. Maybe I should tell her he’s not worth it and she should focus less on men and more on getting a better personality.
“I just wanted to let you know I had no idea he had a girlfriend. He didn’t mention it last week when I was texting him.”
I want to say, ‘well, I’m contractually obligated to be his fake girlfriend until the end of summer, and he’s all yours after that,’ but that might not go over well. Instead, I squeeze my smile even tighter and take another dramatic and well-timed sip of watered-down lemonade.
“Thanks for letting me know, Avery.”
Her nostrils flare, setting off something wild inside me. “It’s Ava.”
“Right, Ava,” I say with a bored tone that feigns disinterest.
She plants a manicured hand on her hip and lets her pale brown eyes carefully trail up and down the cropped tank top and ripped blue jeans I threw on this morning. I can feel her stare hover over the dried paint that I couldn’t scrub off my fingers.
Younger me probably would’ve broken out in hives after crossing paths with this wannabe Barbie, but I simply blink at her and take another slow sip of lemonade. Apparently, I need to talk to Knox about keeping his bimbos away from me. This wasn’t part of our deal.
“You seem really confident,” Ava says, lips twitching, “but I’m a girl’s girl so I’ll warn you to be careful with Knox Cooke. He doesn’t do relationships.”
If you have to say you’re a girl’s girl, there’s a good chance you aren’t. “I’m very aware of his reputation,” I say, a nail poking through the Styrofoam cup perched in my hand. I was reaching my limit with this chick. “But I’ll be fine. I think Knox has had his fill of fake bit—”
“There you are!” a small voice calls out from behind me. I turn to find Marie sliding into place beside me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
My anger willfully retreats as Marie grabs the busted cup out of my hand and turns to Ava, who isn’t quite ready to back off.
“Hi Ava,” Marie chirps, allowing that hateful look to focus on her.
“Marie,” Ava says, flipping a piece of fake hair over her shoulder. “We were just talking about Knox.”
“Were you?” Marie quirks a brow and links her arm in mine. “That’s funny. I was just telling Emery how lucky Knox is that he finally has someone with whom he can hold an actual conversation.”
I cough, trying to cover up a laugh. That earns a very pissed off look from Barbie.
Ava looks between us, her lips ajar like she’s gearing up to say something else, but Marie stares her down until she lets out a defeated huff of air and storms off back into the crowd of people across the path.
“You’re welcome,” Marie says, waiting until Ava is completely out of earshot.
“I owe you big time,” I murmur, releasing the tension cresting in my neck. “I was two seconds away from throwing my lemonade in her face and tearing out those awful extensions.”
Marie laughs beside me, and we both settle back into what I thought was my safe space. But I gave up the luxury of flying under the radar when I made a deal with the devil.
“You can start by explaining what the hell you’re doing dating Knox Cooke.”