Page 59 of Keep Me Close

Neat.

Reasonable.

A lie in their own way, because maybe everyone understands the explanation, but emotionally, Knox and I are nowhere close to being on the same page. Not when he says that I’m his girl and looks at me with something in his eyes I can’t quite name, only to toss out words like photo op as if none of it means anything at all.

His gaze dips to my mouth, and the shift in the air is brief, but I still feel it everywhere.

His teeth catch on his lower lip before his eyes lift again, and the memory of the kiss slams back into me with humiliating force. The red carpet. The cameras. The way his mouth slanted over mine had felt anything but fake.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Same page.”

When his arm tightens, pulling me closer, I rest my head against his chest. The moment I do, my muscles loosen. His body is warm and solid beneath the crisp lines of his tux. His heartbeat is a steady thrum under my ear. The scent of him wraps around me as we move together. It’s slow and close enough that it would be intimate even without everything else humming between us.

This shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

Or as natural.

And it definitely shouldn’t make me want to forget this is temporary. For one fleeting moment as I’m held against him, I almost do.

Movement at the edge of the dance floor catches my eye. I blink as a familiar profile with a medium build and dark hair melts away. My heart slams against my ribs as I scan the crowd. Guests shift and laughter rings out as servers weave between tables. I search the room again, but the face I thought I saw is nowhere to be seen.

Was he ever there?

Or is Dakota so far inside my head that every dark-haired man in a crowded room is enough to send me spiraling?

I hate that I can’t tell the difference.

“What’s wrong?” Knox asks.

I look up and find him frowning, his attention fastened to me.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “For just a second, I thought I saw Dakota.”

His posture immediately changes, going on high alert, as his gaze sweeps the room. “Where?”

I nod toward the edge of the dance floor. “Over there, I think, but it’s possible I imagined it. Maybe my mind’s playing tricks on me.”

He doesn’t laugh or dismiss my concerns. That alone makes me feel better.

“We should go,” he says.

“What? We just got here.”

“I know.” His arm remains wrapped around me. “But I’m not about to take any chances with your safety.”

The certainty in his voice cuts through all my doubts.

“Your ex isn’t thinking clearly,” he continues. “And what he proved this morning is that he’s dangerous.”

A photographer calls out Knox’s name, probably hoping for one more picture, but he ignores him completely. Another guest smiles like she might stop us, but one glance at Knox’s face is enough to make her step aside.

His focus never wavers as his hand settles at my lower back and he guides me off the dance floor and through the crowd. His gaze sweeps the room like he’s ready to throw himself between me and any threat that dares to get too close.

With Knox’s body a solid, steady presence beside me, I feel safe.

Safe enough that I can already feel how easy it would be to get used to this.

And that might be what scares me most.