Maya nods like she’s already ready to throw the first punch. “Good. Draw the line. If he’s worth it, he’ll step up. If not? His loss. We’ll drink wine and slash tires.”
Gracie stifles a laugh. “We’re not slashing tires.”
“Fine. We’ll bake aggressively and talk trash. Same thing.”
I smile, even though it’s small. “Thanks, both of you. I just… I need space to figure out what’s real. I can’t keep falling for someone who might already be walking away.”
Maya lifts her glass. “To pulling back before the spiral.”
Gracie clinks hers gently. “And to knowing your worth.”
We drink. And even though it still hurts, even though I know I’m not quite done with him, not really, I feel the tiniest flicker of strength settle in my chest.
Because maybe I’m not his type.
But I’m not just anyone either.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Knox
She’s pulling back.
Ever since she left my home the other night, with alotleft unsaid, it’s been different.
I’ve felt it in the quiet spaces, between words, in the way her hand doesn’t linger on my arm like it used to over the last few days. She still laughs at my jokes, still brings me coffee exactly the way I like it, still acts like nothing’s changed. But something has. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know.
The warmth’s gone.
And it’s driving me insane because I don’t knowwhy.
I stop inside the front entrance of the restaurant, Tuck’s leash in one hand and a coffee in the other, scanning the floor. It’s early enough that the lunch crowd hasn’t hit yet, just a few staff finishing setup.
I’m not here long. Just checking in, seeing how things are moving. But I guess I was hoping I’d see her.
She’s not at the host stand. Not in the kitchen either, from what I can tell.
Tuck lets out a soft whine, tail thumping the floor behind him. I ruffle his ears.
“Yeah, I know. We’re not staying long.”
I shouldn’t even be here right now, but I can’t keep away.
But I’ve felt this before.
Back when my life imploded. When secrets sat in the air like storm clouds and I ignored every warning until it all came crashing down.
I’m not doing that again.
She finally steps into the kitchen, causing my pulse to spike, and I toss the towel onto the counter and take a step toward the door, ready to pull her aside and ask what the hell’s going on, when the front door explodes open like a damn cannon went off.
“KnoxfuckingKnightly.”
My stomach sinks.
No. Way.
Before I can even turn around, a six-foot-four force of chaos barrels into the room, arms outstretched, wearing bright orange joggers, a tank top that might as well be painted on, and a grin the size of Texas.
