Chapter 2
Savannah
Pulling my beer from my hand, Knightly gulped down the last of it in a single swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“Hey!” I huffed. “Rude.”
It had been one year since the night we’d met.
A year of accompanying Darcy to her brother’s for game nights, of finding ourselves on my threadbare couch, me educating him on the finer points of the longest-running live-action fantasy show.
He had never quite toned down his flagrant flirting but had never crossed that line.
At first, I’d only seen him with his sister around. But somewhere along the way, we’d started to not need Darcy there to spend time together.
He would tell me about his terrible one-night stands, and I would complain about my coursework.
He would refrain from making a retching sound whenever I talked about Bryce, and I would try not to laugh at him when he told me about the time the girl he’d been hooking up with had slathered glitter lotion all over his back and how it had taken him three long, hot showers before he’d been shimmer-free.
Somewhere between binge-watching shows, the late-night study sessions, and the commiseration of having front-row seats to the public and vigorous affections of Darcy and Jesse, we had become friends.
He’d stopped being Darcy’s brother and was just Knightly John, great study partner, mediocre pastry selector, and the first person I called when I was crying over getting an 87% on my organic chemistry lab.
Nothing could ever happen. He was my friend’s brother, a total playboy, and had the worst taste in women ever.
Case in point. Knightly was before me, my beer down his gullet and his bright eyes shining with mischief. “I need a favor.”
A smile flickered on my lips. “Oh, what is it then? Did you do something horrible?”
“Always.” The corner of his mouth quirked up and he winked. “But this time, I need help. Pretend to be my clueless girlfriend?” He leaned down, his amber-flecked eyes staring deep into mine as he set the empty glass on the bar top beside me.
I’d done this before. Really, the man had more issues with wayward coeds than anyone I had ever seen.
The first time Darcy and I had stopped at his place to find a naked woman in his kitchen, it had been a shock.
The fifth? A tad boring, to be honest. Really, the man must have an exhibition kink or something.
“I’ll buy you another beer.”
“You’d do that anyway,” I reminded him.
“I’ll buy you those spicy tater tots you like.”
Crossing my arms against my chest, I narrowed my eyes. “I forgot to eat dinner, so I want the edamame too.”
His mouth turned down and his brow furrowed as he gave me a once-over. “Why did you forget dinner? Why are you drinking if you didn’t eat?”
“I was revising my essay on Hildegard of Bingen, and then it was time to come here.”
“Do I need to start bringing you snacks in the library again?”
At some point, Knightly had picked up on my erratic study habits and even worse eating schedule.
I didn’t mean to forget to eat, but once I started working on something, I would get distracted and then five hours would go by, and then I’d be forced to scarf down a whole bag of pizza rolls at eleven pm.
It had taken me far longer to recognize the way he kept feeding me granola bars and fruit leather than I cared to admit.
“And suffer the wrath of that zealot librarian, Gerry? I think not.”
He hummed to himself, his lips twisted up at my comment, before nodding at me. “Fine, back to my crisis. Susie from my History of Gothic Architecture course is here. We hooked up last weekend, and I caught her eyeing me in class today. She’s obviously trying for round two, but there’s no way and—”
“Could you be a bigger knobhead?”
Hand over his heart, he pretended to be struck. “Oh, she wounds me really. My poor heart is breaking.”
“As if you have one of those.”
“Only for you, Bana.” He grinned at me, and a flicker of heat wound inside me like a ribbon fluttering open.
Stupid, stupid smile with his stupid, stupid chipped tooth and even stupider warm eyes that made you feel like the only person in the room.
“Now, we both know you’re a vengeful harpy who can’t wait to screech at men. ”
“Cute,” I mumbled.
Knightly leaned over the bar, flashing the bartender his crooked smile. In minutes, he was handing me a fresh beer with an orange on the side, the way I liked it but never ordered on busy nights, lest I suffer the wrath of an overworked twenty-two-year-old with a septum piercing and neck tattoos.
“She’s coming this way, act natural.” With that, he slung his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to his side. I could smell his soap and the faint whiff of the outdoors on his shirt. Had he been playing soccer today? How could it be ten at night and he still smelled of sunshine?
My hand clutched my beer as my gaze stopped on the pretty girl in front of us. Red hair, a cute, upturned nose, and a green shirt that made her green eyes pop. This was the girl I was supposed to save him from? What was the matter with him?
“Hi, Knightly,” she said, balancing on one heeled foot, her eyes catching on his finger casually twirling my hair.
“Susan.”
“Suzanne,” she corrected, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Susie.” Her stare was locked on his arm around me, the way I leaned into him.
My jaw hurt from clenching. Why did he have to smell so good?
Not that I noticed. But really, weren’t sweaty college boys supposed to be stinky? Couldn’t he at least do that for me?
“Sorry, this is my—”
I stuck out a hand. “Savannah. I’m his Savannah.”
I wasn’t about to say girlfriend. He might throw around words, but I wouldn’t.
Winding an arm around his waist, I plastered on my fakest cheery grin. “How do you know my Knightly?”
“Um, class.”
Knightly bent down, pressing his lips to the top of my head, and if the bar wasn’t so loud, I could have sworn I heard him inhaling. But there was no way.
“Right, well—” Susie’s mouth thinned, and she narrowed her eyes. “I’ll see you around, Savannah. Knightly.”
We waited until she was a few steps away before I pulled my arm off him, wiping my hand on my dress in dramatic disgust. “Ugh, couldn’t you have showered before coming here? I smell like your sweaty pits now.”
“You love it. It’s perfect, just like me.”
I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “I certainly know one thing you suck at.”
He grinned, lopsided, chipped tooth, charming. “What’s that?”
He was insufferable.
“Humility.”
“Hmm,” he hummed into his beer. “Overrated.”
I pulled the orange off the rim of my pint, biting into the pulpy flesh. His brown eyes darted to my lips for a moment before snapping back up to focus over my head.
With the rind in my hand, I poked his upper arm. “Don’t forget about my spicy tots and edamame. I’m famished.”
Opening the bathroom door, I stopped in the stall to find Susie at the mirror, her sharp eyes catching mine. With a slight smile, I nodded at her, turning on the tap and scrubbing off the sticky beer and orange.
Beside me, Susie watched my hands in the water, then her gaze darted up my body to my face. I could see her thoughts as clearly as if she were shouting them.
That’s his girlfriend? That’s who he would choose over me? Over all those other girls? Makes no sense.
Forgoing the noisy air dryer, I wiped my hands on my dress and made my way to the door.
“Savannah,” she called out behind me. When I turned to face her, she was worrying her bottom lip. “You should know that Knightly and I, a few weeks ago, we—” She swallowed hard, glancing away. “I’m not proud of it, but we—well, you know.”
Act natural.
One hand on the wall, I furrowed my brows and sighed loudly. “That asshole.”
She rushed forward as if she were about to hug me, and I stepped back. I might not be Knightly’s actual girlfriend, but I certainly wouldn’t let her console me.
She pursed her lips together, her jaw tightening. “I just thought you should know.”
“Thanks.” It was surprisingly easy to fall into this sensation of betrayal, jealousy, and self-doubt.
“For what it’s worth, he talks about you all the time. I didn’t know you were his girlfriend, but it makes sense. A guy doesn’t say those things about a girl unless he really loves her.” She offered me a weak smile.
“And still you slept with him?”
She shrugged. “What can I say? I was dumb, he was hot, and there were green-tea shots involved. Plausible deniability—if he didn’t say the word girlfriend, I could pretend I had a chance.” She took in my lace dress, my worn-out shoes, my limp ponytail. “See you around.”
Knightly didn’t cheat on me; we hadn’t shared anything more than stupid flirting, and I had a boyfriend seven hundred miles away. Still, there was a twist in my chest at her words.
He talked about me? What did he say? Why do I care?