Chapter 1 #2
A few seconds later, a burst of color lit up the sky beyond the trees, followed by the distant pop of fireworks from somewhere down the block.
Another went up, then another, red and white blooming above the treetops before fading into smoke.
We watched in silence for a couple of minutes, as if we hadn’t already endured my dad’s own questionably legal pyrotechnic display earlier that night.
Knox broke the silence first. “Did you hear me telling Adrian about the college kids sneaking firecrackers into the arena bathroom last weekend?”
I pulled one leg up onto the chair, pressing my knee against the table. “No,” I said. “That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh and launched into the story, describing the chaos and panic the firecrackers caused.
He described it all casually, like it was just another night on the job.
“One of the guys pushed past me and tried to make a run for it, and I had to restrain him until the authorities arrived.”
I held my breath, my mind stuck on the thought of Knox physically restraining someone. I imagined his big hand clamped around their wrists as he pushed them against the wall, and I could feel my nipples tighten under my bikini top.
It’s a good thing I could hide them behind my Kindle.
Heat was still buzzing through my veins, and my limbs felt weightless. My body was telling me it was time to call it a night, but instead, I found myself asking Knox about other security incidents they’d had at the arena.
And he kept talking, one anecdote leading into another. If he was aware his stories were turning me on, he didn’t let it show. He fidgeted with a bottlecap as he spoke, tapping it against the table and turning it over again and again with his long fingers. But his eyes kept drifting back to me.
Another round of fireworks exploded above the treetops, and our conversation paused again. As Knox stared ahead at the bursts of red and gold in the sky, I studied his sharp jawline and the subtle crease between his brows.
And before I could overthink it or stop myself, a question spilled out of my mouth. “Where’s your girlfriend tonight, Knox?”
Fuck. There’d been no buildup. No filter. I’d just jumped right into an intrusive question that I already knew the answer to, the embarrassment already rolling off me in waves.
Knox tapped the bottlecap a couple of times against the glass table top, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Haven’t got one of those.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you and Justine split.”
Yes, I did.
I tucked my hair behind my ears, pretending like my mom hadn’t called me a couple months ago with a full rundown of Knox’s break-up with Justine, who cheated on him with her life coach.
Of course, my mother had received the information secondhand from Adrian, who didn’t bother to learn all the juicy details. I was dying to know more, but even as drunk as I was, I knew it would be inappropriate to ask.
Knox sat up a little straighter, putting his elbows on the edge of the table as he stared down at the swimming goggles one of my cousins had left behind. “Yeah, that was ages ago,” he said.
“Oh.”
Clearing his throat, he lifted his eyes to my face and asked, “How’s ol’ what’s-his-name?
” He tilted his head to the side, pretending to think hard, as if he, Adrian, and the rest of my family hadn’t spent a year roasting me for dating a guy who made CrossFit his entire personality. “Brady-something?”
“Brody,” I corrected with a roll of my eyes. “And he’s dead to me. Just emotionally, unfortunately.”
He nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile he seemed desperate to hold back. Whatever teasing comment was on the tip of his tongue, he made an effort to hold it in.
“Hmm,” was all he said, dragging a hand down his jaw along his beard.
I decided not to ask him to elaborate. I didn’t need to know what that “hmm” implied. With a sigh, I flipped my hair off my shoulder and looked skyward, struggling to make my eyes focus on the fireworks in the distance.
“Anna’s probably going to be the next Rutherford in line to get married,” I said, in a breathy, melancholy voice. “Pretty sure Adrian and I are both doomed to be chronically unattached.”
When I turned to face Knox again, I was surprised to find him quietly smirking, a subtle look of amusement in his eyes.
I opened my mouth to ask him what that look meant, but he leaned in closer, scooting his elbows toward me.
His expression shifted into something smug, like he knew something I didn’t.
And then, his voice low and husky, he asked, “Is that because you’re holding out for a morally grey man to… choke you respectfully?”
For half a second, I was deeply confused and borderline offended.
Then my heart dropped.
And heat prickled across my skin.
The entire time we’d been just shooting the shit about his job and my family, the back of my Kindle had been facing him, with my explicit dark romance stickers on full display.
And Knox had been quietly observing them as we talked, learning things about his best friend’s little sister he was never meant to know.
I swallowed hard.
Because I had never–not once–imagined Knox Ballard saying the word choke in any context, let alone in a flirtatious voice like that.
I’d spent years mentally categorizing Knox as off-limits. Safe. Adrian’s reliable best friend. A constant in the background of our family.
And to him, I knew I was like the sister he’d watched grow up, untouchable and completely unsexual in every way.
But now he was looking at me like he’d made it painfully clear I’d just been reclassified as something else entirely.
The heat that had started as a faint prickle had now settled somewhere between my legs, and I was doomed.