She takes his hand, and as I watch his fingers close around hers, something dark and jealous coils in my gut. Which is stupid. Because Knight’s not hitting on her, for one. And second, I have no right to be jealous.
“Knight?” Sofia asks in a puzzled tone. “That’s…”
“Not my real name,” he explains. “Micah’s my real name. But Knight’s what everyone called me in the Army, so I’ve gotten used to it. Just like Nico goes by Rogue.”
Her gaze jumps to mine. “Your nickname is Rogue?”
“It is.” My voice is rougher than normal. Moving to join the two of them, I clap Knight’s shoulder and say, “I’ll see you at the office later. Give Cooper a treat from me for doing such a great job.”
Knight releases Sofia’s hand and flashes a tiny smirk at me. “Will do. Text if you need anything.”
Sofia and I watch in shared silence as Knight lets himself out. Once the door clicks shut behind him, I grab my phone and reactivate the alarm. When I catch her looking at my phone, she flushes bright red.
“I’m not trying to figure out your alarm system,” she says quickly. “I was just curious.”
“I know.” I shove my phone into my pocket. “I don’t care if you know how the security system works.”
Sofia takes another step back, putting more distance between us. But her scent—roses and honey—still lingers. “Sorry,” she says again. “I didn’t think about you having company. I would have waited to come out if I’d known.”
“Knight isn’t company. He’s my best friend.”
“Oh.” Her gaze dips. “Well. I know you’d prefer it if I stay clear. So if you could let me know the best time to leave the guest room?—”
“You don’t have to hide in the guest room. If you want to use the kitchen, you can.” I can’t hide the irritation in my voice. Which is stupid, because really, there’s nothing to be irritated about.
Well, except having my ex living in my condo, stirring up a bunch of unpleasant memories. And making me feel guilty for almost getting her killed.
But besides that, no reason to be irritated at all.
I head over to the coffee maker and lift the top. “Do you want coffee? Juice? I don’t think I have any tea, but I could have some delivered.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
A glance over my shoulder shows Sofia still standing near the doorway. Her injured arm is tucked up in her sling, and her other arm is wrapped around her waist. She looks small and vulnerable and more nervous than I can ever remember seeing her.
Something about it plucks at a chord deep inside me.
I don’t like seeing her like this.
I want to make her feel better.
I don’t know why. I just do.
“Do you want coffee?” I ask again. “Food?”
Sofia takes a tentative step into the kitchen. “I can make the coffee myself.”
“I’m already standing here, aren’t I?” Plucking a Kenyan roast from the carousel, I pop the pod into the coffee maker, stick a clean mug beneath, and start it. While the coffee brews, I rummage through another cabinet until I find a small containerof honey, then head to the fridge and pull out the carton of creamer.
Sofia edges closer to the island and slides onto one of the stools in front of it. “Thanks. You didn’t need to… But thanks.”
I set the honey and creamer in front of her. “It’s fine. Like I said, I was already standing by the coffee maker.”
She watches me as I bring the mug of steaming coffee over to the island and place it beside the honey and creamer. I take a spoon from the silverware drawer and add it to the small arrangement. “Do you need anything else?”
Sofia stares at the honey. “You remembered,” she says quietly.
I jolt at her words. Then I look at the honey and creamer again.
