I wasn’t sure I could survive that.
Knox moved around the exam room, restocking cabinets from supplies he’d gathered from the closet down the hall. I hovered nearby, reorganizing supplies that didn’t need reorganizing, my fingers fidgeting with bottles and boxes while my mind rehearsed opening lines that all sounded ridiculous.
So, funny story—did you almost kill a man for me?
Yeah. That wasn’t going to work.
Maybe something softer.Dr. Mercer told me about Doyle. About what really happened.And then I’d watch his face. See if the walls went up or if he’d finally let me in.
But every time I opened my mouth, my courage deserted me.
“Any fun weekend plans?”
I startled at his voice. Knox wasn’t looking at me—his attention was fixed on a shelf of gauze rolls—but there was something almost playful in his tone.
“Nothing much.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear casual. Failing miserably. “What about you? Big plans?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Oh, my weekend is packed.” He slid a box of medical tape onto the shelf. “Thought I’d go to a football game. Have some friends over. Maybe go for a hike.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. But then something shifted. The humor drained away, replaced by a hollow ache that settled behind my ribs.
He couldn’t do any of those things. While I would walk out of here in ten minutes and have the freedom to go anywhere, and do anything, Knox would return to a concrete cell. Same four walls. Same narrow cot. Same fluorescent lights buzzing overhead until lights out.
For years, that had been his entire world.
And he’d risked extending that sentence. For me.
Why did that thought suddenly make my chest feel so tight?
I shook it off. Focused on the task at hand. Straightened a row of specimen cups that were already perfectly aligned.
Now. Ask him now.
“So,” I said, keeping my voice light, “I was talking to Dr. Mercer earlier this week …”
I reached up to adjust something on the top shelf, and my elbow caught the edge of a gauze box. It tumbled off the shelf, bouncing once before heading for the floor.
I bent and reached for it.
So did Knox.
We both crouched at the same moment, our hands shooting out in the same instant, and?—
Our fingers collided.
The contact was brief. Accidental. Just a brush of skin against skin, his knuckles grazing my fingertips as we both reached for the fallen medical supply.
But the effect was immediate.
A jolt of heat shot through my hand and raced up my arm, spreading through my chest like wildfire. Every nerve ending in my body lit up at once, sparking with electricity.
Crouched there on the infirmary floor, inches apart, neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed.
Knox’s hand hovered over the gauze box, his fingers still close enough to mine that I could feel the warmth radiating off his skin. His eyes lifted slowly to meet mine, and something in his expression made my heart stutter.
He looked just as stunned as I felt.
We straightened up together, rising in unison like we were caught in the same strange gravitational pull. Knox towered over me now, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. Close enough to see the slight part of his lips, the way his chest rose and fell in a rhythm that had slowed, deepened.
