Knox Bristol stared at me, an undiscernable expression on his face.
The silence was suffocating. I felt discomfort crawling up my arms and settling in my chest.
2
KNOX
Awkward was too simple a word to describe how I felt.
Not only did Mr. Sterlingbuyme for his son, but he did it against Lucian’s wishes.
Lucy—he corrected later under a soft mumble when his family had left—seemed to be uncomfortable with the whole situation—a shared sentiment, for sure. He hadn’t even spoken to me since his dad and sister left. He’d just dropped his head, turned around, and disappeared down the hallway, muttering something I couldn’t quite catch.
He was beautiful.
Men hadn’t been in the forefront of my mind for a while, but something about Lucy drew me in. His soft features, light and adorably messy bangs that draped around each cheekbone, and those eyes… They drew me in.
When he’d opened the door, before Mr. Sterling’s reprimand, he’d looked surprised—confused, even. His lip dimpled ever so slightly into a confused pout, and I recalled vividly how my grip faltered on my bag strap with the urge to tug at his little pout.
His confusion made sense now. I was a stranger standing at his door with my duffel bag, decidedly staying in this luxuryapartment on the top floor of the most expensive complex anywhere near Sweetwater Bay.
Before long, he reappeared, hauling easels, cups of paintbrushes, and bins of tubes of paint out of what must be the second bedroom Cordelia mentioned. He stowed them carefully beside the easel he had in front of the wide windows in the front of the suite.
He looked miserable.
His eyes were rimmed red, his pale skin splotchy where I didn’t recall it being before, and whenever he set something down, I caught a slight shake to his hands as he stood back up.
Even his cat, bespeckled as he was, watched Lucy’s movements with apparent concern. He positioned himself on the coffee table, swiping at Lucy’s hand as he passed by with the wooden crate.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked, hearing the wariness in my own voice, but unwilling to correct it.
Lucy shook his head. “Just getting my stuff out for you. Sorry something wasn’t already prepared.”
He turned away from me like I wouldn’t see the following wipe at his face or hear the shake in his voice.
It twisted my gut. I shouldn’t be sympathetic over a rich guy having to take his stuff out of the extra bedroom that no poor people could afford, but here I was.
And his face when his family had left, when Cordelia had smirked at him when she told him I would be needing a bedroom for the month… It was cruel. She knew what she was saying would hurt her brother, and she took pleasure in it.
I couldn’t imagine having siblings that were like that. Duke was the closest thing I had to a brother, and though we fought, insulted each other, and drove each other crazy, nothing was ever malicious or hurtful between us. There was nothing but love there from the start.
Lucy had disappeared back down the hallway when there was a knock on the door.
I glanced behind me from where I’d been leaning against the massive marble island in the kitchen. Had his dad come back?
“Uh, Lucy?” I called. “Someone’s here.”
Lucy appeared again, a crate in hand full of more random art supplies I couldn’t identify. “Who?”
“I’m not sure,” I shrugged, slipping around the counter and reaching to take the crate from him, “I didn’t want to answer it at your place, right?”
He eyed me suspiciously, his grip tightening on the crate I was trying to help him with.
It was odd, having his full attention now. He was unsure of me, uncomfortable with me in his space, but I was here, and he was looking at me.
Those blue eyes had to be contacts, with the brown still visible around the edges of his irises. His hair had been loosened from the slicked-back look, with a hairband tying half of it up and letting his bangs settle around his high cheekbones. He was easily at least six inches shorter than me, his sharp yet somehow soft features tilted back to look up at me.
“Let me help you,” I encouraged, keeping my voice soft like he might skitter away like a frightened animal. But wasn’t he? His cat was already more sure than he was. “I’ll put it with your other stuff by the window. I promise.”
