Chapter 13
EMERY
Idon’t have time to process what just happened. One second, I’m playing the dutiful wing woman for Marie, and the next, Knox’s mouth is on mine.
And I freaking ate it up. I didn’t hesitate or push him away. I let his mouth swallow mine without a second thought.
Even with his lips gone, the heat still lingers. Everything from the rough scrape of his stubble to the faint taste of cold beer on his tongue is seared into my brain.
Which is a problem. A huge problem.
First of all, I’m not supposed to go brain dead from Knox Cooke’s kisses. I was hoping we’d make it through the rest of this arrangement without locking lips. But now I’m trying not to let my legs fold underneath me and act like his caveman reenactment is completely normal.
“Thanks a lot, prick,” Marie says with an angry frown. “You scared off the only decent man in this entire bar.” I look up to find the guy from earlier has made a very impressive Irish goodbye.
Knox tightens his arm around me, and that’s when I realize he’s still holding me. My eyes focus on Marie, wondering if I’m going to have to stop her from biting his head off. “Oh,” is all he says. “I thought—”
“You thought he was hitting on Emery,” she cuts him off, sticking out one of her perfectly manicured nails to poke him hard in the chest. “Even if he was hitting on her, jealousy isn’t a good look on you, bud. Add that to the list of red flags I keep reminding her of.”
Knox’s body goes taut and his arm slowly slips away.
Is it bad that I found his jealousy kind of…hot? I know that’s incredibly toxic of me, and maybe I’ve been reading too many erotica novels about morally grey men, but damn, I didn’t realize how much I wanted a man to claim me like that.
But not Knox. He is off limits.
At least behind closed doors. That doesn’t mean that I can’t lean into this feeling for a little longer. I can chastise myself later.
“It’s fine, Marie,” I interject. “Plus, that guy was kind of a tool. He kept bringing up how much he can bench, and if you look across the bar, he’s already talking to another girl.”
Marie’s eyes follow my hand pointing out the tall brunette leaning over a petite blonde woman who’s eating up every last line he’s throwing her way.
And I caught the jerk looking down my shirt a few times, but I kept that to myself.
She clears her throat and nods. “Yeah, maybe I dodged a bullet. But keep your man in line next time. I’m going to go get a drink so you two can keep swapping spit if you want.”
My stomach tightens as she disappears into the crowd. I slowly turn back to the kissing bandit and let myself switch out of fake girlfriend mode and into I’m simply tolerating you mode. I give his shoulder a harmless shove and force my smile into a disappointed scowl.
“What the hell was that?”
Apparently, I’m not convincing enough because his lips curl upward. “Oh, don’t play dumb, Bambi. You kissed me back.”
I narrow my eyes at him, taking a step back. I need space. I groan internally at his backward hat and the way the neon light reflects off his lips, giving them an irresistible shine. Something unladylike settles deep in my core, and a quiet buzz takes hold.
“It’s called acting,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he says with a wink. “I was acting too.”
Another wave of heat washes over me, but this time it’s rooted in irritation instead of the earlier emotion that shall not be named.
“You can’t just go around mauling me in public, Knox,” I hiss, making my voice low enough so only our small corner of the bar can hear. The loud announcement about Thursday night karaoke helps. “Or at least give me a heads up. We have rules for a reason, and you just broke two of them in a row.”
“I apologize for kissing you without asking,” he says, leaning against the wall, “but I don’t apologize for scaring off that creep. He already has his tongue shoved down another girl’s throat.”
I peer over the sea of people and cringe at the rated R scene unfolding in a public space. Maybe we inspired him? I shake my head before turning back to Knox. My stomach drops when I see the way his stare follows my every move.
“That’s not the point,” I fire back, ignoring the way my heart is pounding to the beat of the sound blasting through the speakers. “We have rules for a reason.”
“And why is that, Bambi?” he asks, taking a step closer. My mouth goes dry, and blood pumps in my eardrums. My lips fall open, but I can’t find the right thing to say.
Knox sees my moment of weakness and leans in closer. His eyes soften under the cool lighting. “Tell me you didn’t like it, and we can move on.”
Sandpaper lines my throat. The words are there, but I can’t think straight with his breath dancing across my cheek.
I even reach for a good pep talk to push through whatever crazy wave of hormones is rushing through me, but I come up blank.
All I can think about is how hot it is inside this bar and how easy it would be to give in to that heat.
All I can manage to do is roll my eyes and hope he doesn’t press further. If he leaned in for another kiss, I’m not sure I’d be able to pull away. “If you’re searching for a compliment, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
He laughs, low and deep. The bastard knows the effect he has on me. “Fair enough, Bambi. I won’t kiss you again until you ask me to,” he says before leaning so close to my ear I want to collapse into his arms. “And you will ask me to. Hell, you’ll probably even beg.”
Knox pulls away with a satisfied smile that just makes me squirm even more. God bless the dim lighting, because I can feel my cheeks turning an unflattering bright red. I rack my brain for some sort of good retort, but I’m interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket.
I’m thrilled about the interruption for exactly two seconds until I read the caller I.D. Knox must see the frown on my face because he looks down at my phone screen with a concerned crease running straight down the middle of his forehead.
“Who’s Patrick?” he asks.
I bite my lip so hard I slightly break the skin, causing a metallic taste to fill my mouth. “An old friend,” I say, not sure why I feel the need to lie. “I should probably take this. Knowing him, he’ll keep calling until I answer.”
Knox gently grabs my wrist, catching me off guard. “You’re shaking, Emery. Are you okay?”
My brain reconnects with my body, and I realize he’s right.
Something takes over me, and I feel like a zombie walking back into my old life.
The vibrating quits, but then it starts back up again like clockwork.
“I’m f-fine,” I say, trying to school my emotions.
“I haven’t eaten anything all night, so that might be it.
I’m going to step outside. If you see Marie, can you let her know? ”
Knox’s gaze softens, but he doesn’t let go of my wrist. When I finally shake him off, he steps back and nods. “Yeah, of course. Come get me if you need anything. I’ve barely had anything to drink, so I can drive you home, and we can get burgers on the way.”
“Okay,” I smile, clenching my hand around my phone. “Thank you.”
I turn away, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer.
I haven’t spoken to Patrick in months, and the fact that he’s calling now has a pit forming in my stomach.
I should’ve blocked his number, but when you get out of a serious relationship, it’s hard to completely close the door.
He absolutely wrecked me, and yet I still care about him.
That seemed to be a theme in my love life.
“Hi,” I say, picking up the fourth phone call in a row.
“Hey,” Patrick’s voice says clearly through the speaker. It’s achingly familiar, and it makes my insides twist hard enough to make my brow sweat. “I didn’t know if you’d answer.”
I close my eyes, letting my back lean against the rough railing of the bar’s porch. “I figured it was important if you called four times in a row.”
“Sorry,” he says quickly with a slight tinge of embarrassment in his voice. “I really wanted to hear your voice. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”
My grip tightens around the railing and my nails scrape against the wood. “I don’t know what you want me to say. If you don’t need anything, then—”
“I do need something, Em. I need you. I made a mistake letting you go.”
And there it is. The regret call. I figured it would come sooner or later, and maybe that’s why I kept his contact information saved. I was a masochist for closure.
“You didn’t let me go, Patrick. You cheated on me, and I’m the one who ended things. You expected me to forgive the fact that you slept with my boss so we could move on and start over. I hate to break it to you, but we can’t move past that.”
The wood of the porch creaks, shifting under the weight of someone new. I know who it is before I look over my shoulder.
When my eyes meet with Knox’s, I expect to be annoyed he’s eavesdropping, but instead I feel some strange sensation of comfort resting on my shoulders.
He arches a brow as if to ask if I’m okay, and I nod with a reassuring smile.
Knox nods back and leans against the opposite side of the porch, offering quiet support.
“I know and I regret what I did every day. But you have to understand, Em, you were being emotionally distant, and we hadn’t slept together in weeks when it happened. You have to understand—”
“I don’t have to understand anything,” I sigh, getting flashbacks of how easily he used to spin our problems onto me. It took me entirely way too long to realize that’s something my parents used to do to me, too.