I tried to ignore Knight’s existence for the next few days.
I went surfing with Edie every morning, took Racer to the mall twice, and caught up on reading material for college. I rode my bike. A lot.
Even though I didn’t actually see him, Knight was always there, hovering in the back of my mind. Everything I did was tainted with the vision of his face. To silence the demon with stabbing green eyes, I decided to dig deeper into Val.
Last night, I’d gone into my father’s walk-in closet when he wasn’t home, risen on my toes, and slid out the shoebox where he kept everything Val-related. There were mainly legal documents, most of them about me—my birth, my heritage, and the documents proving he had full custody of me. I didn’t know why he still kept them. I was nineteen and wasn’t going anywhere.
Nowhere near Val, and nowhere at all.
The more I dug into my biological mother’s case, the more I realized how much of a mystery she was to me—no address, no background, no relatives I knew of. She had a mother—wasn’t my grandmother curious to meet me?—and not much else.
I decided to talk to Edie about it. Edie was a better bet than Dad because she didn’t have an allergic reaction to the name Valenciana. I wasn’t really sure why, because when I was four, she hadn’t been immune to being screwed over by Val.
I found Edie in the kitchen, making sugar cookies with Racer. They turned around when I entered, both of them wearing matching Why Are You All Up in My Grill? aprons. Edie took one look at my face before she dropped a kiss on Racer’s head.
“Go help your dad in the garage.”
“Help him with what? He’s watching a football game.” Racer frowned.
“Well, he’s old and nearsighted.”
“No, he’s not.”
“He needs you to read the score for him. Go.”
I plopped down on the barstool by the kitchen island, rubbing my face. Edie walked over to the fridge and took out two Bud Lights, popping them open and sliding one in my direction. I loved how she put the Mom cap on when I needed her to be the responsible adult, and the Friend cap on when I didn’t want to be lectured. She could always sense which version of her I needed and slipped into the role like a chameleon, changing her colors but still staying the same, sweet Edie.
“What’s the story, morning glory?” She tipped her beer bottle up, taking a sip.
“Val,” I signed.
Edie gathered her long blonde hair into a messy, yet somehow perfect bun.
“All right. I’m listening.”
There was always a dash of guilt thrown in when I mentioned Val to Edie. After all, one of them was an MIA birth mom who wanted nothing to do with me, and the other was a girl who’d met me when she was a teenager herself—nineteen, as I was right now—and immediately took me under her wing, sacrificing her youth for Dad and me.
“Have you ever tried to find out where she was?”
Edie shook her head, peeling the label off her beer bottle. “Your dad doesn’t like talking about her. I doubt she’s in the country anymore. Last we saw her, when you were four, she was deeply troubled.”
“I want to find out.”
“Why, Luna?”
“Why?” I threw my hands in the air, wanting to punch someone. “Because I can’t move forward! Because I have no roots, so how can I know where to grow, in which direction? Because she is my past!”
“Exactly. You can’t do anything about your past. Focus on your present. On your future. Hell, on anything other than that woman.”
I shook my head. I needed to know.
Edie looked around. Her shoulders sagged with a sigh. “If we open this can of worms without telling your dad, he’ll be devastated when he finds out. And he will find out. I can’t betray him, Lu. You realize that, right?”
I looked up at her. I didn’t want to do it. Every fiber in my body didn’t want to do it, but I dug out my manipulative streak, dumping it between us on the kitchen island, baiting her. Guilt-tripping her. For the first time in my life, I did something completely selfish.
“I don’t have the money for this, Edie. Or the connections. I deserve to know.”
Edie’s teeth sank into her full lower lip. She examined her sugar-dusted fingers, her huge wedding ring catching the sunlight streaming from the large windows.
I thought about Knight. About how he refused to open his adoption case. Last time we’d spoken about it, he’d said, “I have two functioning parents with their shit together. Why would I let some random walk into my life and mess it up?”
He had a point. But Knight wasn’t like me. He didn’t need answers. He dripped validation. He was vastly loved and admired by everyone we knew.
Edie turned around, giving me her back. She braced herself on the kitchen counter, thinking. I hated myself so much for putting her in this situation.
“I’ll hire a PI, but you have a week to tell you dad,” she announced metallically. “I’m not lying to my husband, Luna.”
As a gesture of good faith, I spoke the words to her, “Thank you.”
She dipped her finger into cookie dough on the glossy marble of the counter, licking the pad of her finger thoughtfully.
“Whatever it is you’re looking for, I hope it’s peace and not a relationship. She doesn’t deserve you, Luna. She never did.”
My perfect streak of avoiding Knight (and vice versa?) ended on a Wednesday afternoon, the day before Christmas Eve. I was headed down to the dog shelter on Main Street for a pre-Christmas adoption day, one of the busiest days of the year. Clad in my checked Vans, mustard-hued beanie, boyfriend jeans, and a cropped sweater that showed a hint of abs from all the cycling I did, I hugged Eugene and Bethany, the elderly couple who ran the shelter. Eugene had white caterpillar eyebrows and wore a uniform of suspenders and hiking boots. Beth was a willowy thing who was always on the move. I’d come in before the other volunteers to help clean up, arrange the refreshments on tables, and print out leaflets for prospective adopters.
Since Eugene and Beth didn’t speak sign language, I had to type on my phone to communicate with them. I’d been volunteering with them for many years, and communicating was never an issue, but today, they were squinting at my phone more than usual, rubbing their eyes when staring at the tiny text. I hadn’t considered that they were getting older.
My heart was drenched with sorrow. I tried to open my mouth and speak. The wall had been pierced—why not try again? But nothing came out. I closed my mouth, snagged a blank page from the printer, and wrote with a thick Sharpie, I’m so sorry. Maybe I should go?
Beth ripped the page in half while it was still in my hand, snapped her fingers together, and smiled.
“Our grandson, Jefferson, studied sign language. He’s going to become a speech therapist. Let me call him.”
The last thing I wanted was someone else added to the mix. As it was, the place was going to be teeming with people, my least favorite creatures to hang out with. But I couldn’t exactly shut down the idea, either. So I watched as Beth coaxed her grandson (rather aggressively) to stop by the shelter on his way back from the gym.
Half an hour before we opened the doors to the general public, the volunteers started trickling in. They were mostly faces I recognized, but that did nothing to calm my social anxiety. Most people smiled tightly when they saw me and made themselves scarce to keep things a little less awkward—for them, not for me. Not that I cared either way, as long as I was back to being my blissfully invisible self.
I was arranging leaflets on red-clothed tables when Beth shrieked behind me and said, “Oh, lookie here! My favorite English rose.”
My blood froze in my veins. I could practically feel whatever was left of my calm evaporating from my body, like mist, even before I heard Knight’s voice muttering, “Shit.”
Shit, indeed.
I resumed my leaflet arrangement, keeping my back to them, like nothing had happened.
So what if they were here? I’d been volunteering in the shelter for eight years, practically since I was a pre-teen. Today was going to be wonderful. Puppies and elderly dogs alike were going to find new, loving homes. I was going to make the most out of it. Besides, Knight and I had agreed on a truce.
“Knight Jameson Cole. How’s your mama?” Bethany bellowed behind me.
“Well, ma’am. Thanks for asking. And yourself?”
“Been worse.”
“But never looked better.”
“You little charmer.” She let out a hearty laugh. “Is that how he caught you, Miss Astalis? With his smooth tongue?”
“Ma’am, you haven’t the slightest clue,” Knight drawled.
I bit down on a grin and rolled my eyes. He’d gone there. In front of a senior citizen. The horn dog.
“He makes me so happy,” Poppy gushed, clapping her hands together.
I wanted to gag. The only thing stopping me, in fact, was Bethany calling for me to come say hello to my good, good friend.
We lived in a small town, where everyone knew Knight Cole and Luna Rexroth were a package deal. He’d come to the shelter with me so many times, his mere presence here with someone else felt like a slap in my face.
Truce, Luna. Truce. He’s not yours, remember?
Drawing a calming breath, I turned around and plastered on a polite smile as I made my way to them. I waved hello to Poppy and Knight just as the door behind them opened and a person I assumed was Jefferson walked in.
Everyone went silent.
Jefferson was, for lack of other words, uncomfortably stunning, even in his gym clothes, sweat making his shirt stick to his six pack. I’d always been drawn to people with distinctive faces—a scar, a crooked nose, chipped tooth. Anything imperfect went, as long as they were flawed.
Knight’s saving grace was his eyes. Everything about him was perfect to the T, an all-American superhero who could slide comfortably into Chris Pine’s shoes and give him a run for his money. But his eyes were slightly different colors, one the shade of moss, the other more hazel. He was imperfect, but only if you looked really closely. Too closely for his comfort. Too close for him to ever allow. I could never fall in love with a hundred-percenter…but Knight was a solid 99.99%.
Jefferson, however, was three-figure perfect: thick, silken mane the color of sand and a jaw squarer than a Rubik’s Cube, a la Scott Eastwood. Since I was the reason he’d arrived, I was the first he reached out to for a handshake when Beth started with the introductions. I normally wasn’t hot on physical contact with people I didn’t know, but something about the situation pushed me into getting out of my comfort zone. Or rather, someone. Knight.
Jefferson gave me a gentle squeeze, peppering the gesture with a wide smile. He couldn’t be much older than twenty-two. I didn’t know why I was expecting someone older, considering his grams had mentioned he was still a student.
“Grandma Beth asked if I could save the day.” He grinned, his teeth sparkling like in a cartoon.
Typically, I wouldn’t answer him, in sign language or otherwise. But I could practically feel Knight’s gaze putting more layers of clothes on me to try to hide me away, one item at a time, as he tried to fence me back into being timid and shy. Not today, though.
“I appreciate it. You must be so busy.”
“Never too busy to be a beautiful girl’s knight in shining armor.”
I smirked. Interesting choice of words. Karma was definitely working extra hours today.
“She’s not a tortilla chip. No need to put so much cheese on it.” Knight tousled his own hair, his eyes drenched with disdain as he threw Jefferson a scowl.
Jefferson was still staring at me and shaking my hand, his chiseled face smiling radiantly at me.
“Actually, I’m vegan,” he deadpanned.
“I’m vegetarian.” My eyes bugged out.
Why was I surprised again? His grandparents ran a shelter. They were both vegetarian. Eugene and Beth looked between us, sharing a sly smile before they left to open the shelter doors to the general public.
“What are the odds?” Knight feigned interest. “I bet Harry Styles was both your favorite Fifth Harmony member.”
“Harry Styles was in One Direction,” Jefferson pointed out.
Knight spread his arms triumphantly. “Damn, son. You walked right into the trap. Not the kind of information that should occupy your brain cells.”
Again, Jefferson ignored him. Our palms were still clasped together, and I made no hurry to withdraw mine.
“I’m Poppy!” Knight’s girlfriend offered in her dangerously smooth British accent, thrusting her hand in Jefferson’s direction. He turned from me, his face opening up when he saw her.
“I adore your accent.”
“I adore your grandparents! I’ve been volunteering here for three months. Mainly over the weekends. Shame we never bumped into each other.”
She was overeager to sell him to me by pointing out how attractive he was.
“I usually volunteer on weekdays. I give the shelter dogs a live acoustic performance. It’s less dumb than it sounds, I promise.”
“Doubt it,” Knight grunted.
Poppy elbowed his ribs. Michael Jackson’s eating popcorn GIF played in my head. I stifled a smile. This was surprisingly entertaining.
“It doesn’t sound dumb at all. I wish you’d come on the weekends,” Poppy purred, her gaze slicing to me.
“Maybe I will.”
“I’m the boyfriend, by the way,” Knight cut through their flirtatious exchange, offering Jefferson his big hand.
Jefferson laughed and shook it. “No disrespect, man. I was actually baiting Luna.”
He turned back to me. “You come here on weekends?”
Knight’s jaw ticked.
“Used to. I go to Boon in North Carolina now.”
“Crying shame.”
“I still have winter break.”
Jefferson clutched his shirt where his heart was and threw his other fist in the air.
“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”
“You sure know your Martin Luther King, Jr., sir.” I grinned.
Knight rolled his eyes. “Real subtle, bro.”
Poppy poked her lower lip out, looking between us peculiarly. Of course she was happy if Jefferson and I rode off into the sunset together; then she could have Knight all to herself. Little did she know, I had no intention of spending time with her boyfriend this winter. Our last encounter in the treehouse had been a bid to keep the boat from flipping over, but Knight and I were both smart enough to know we were still on troubled water.
Half an hour later, the place was jam-packed with families and couples, crouching and cooing over crates. I had no time to think about Knight, Poppy, or even Val. Jefferson shadowed my every move, acting as my voice.
Three hours into the event, we had already managed to send twelve dogs home with their new families. I peeked at Beth and Eugene, who were laughing with their friends in the corner of the room. They looked relaxed and happy. Between Poppy and the other volunteers, we had it on lock.
Knight never left Poppy’s side. He texted on his phone with a gloomy scowl. Every time he looked up and our eyes met, I turned around and struck up a conversation with Jefferson.
“So. You and Knight,” Jefferson said when we were closing up.
He picked up Goldie, a golden retriever pup, letting her lick every inch of his face. I laughed at Goldie’s eagerness.
“There’s no me and Knight.”
“You should tell that to his eyes. They’ve been putting extra time in on following you everywhere today.”
“He has a girlfriend.” I shrugged.
“Poppy deserves better.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I plucked Goldie from his embrace, rubbing my nose against her fur. Jefferson continued staring at me with an intensity I was too inexperienced to decode. He leaned forward so we were hunched together behind the register. He’d just opened his mouth when Knight appeared in front of us, rapping the counter with his knuckles.
“A word,” he hissed my way.
I tore my gaze from Jefferson, playing dumb.
“I don’t talk.”
“To me you do.”
“Think again.”
“Don’t make me embarrass you, Moonshine.” He smiled impatiently. “Because I will. And make a damn good show of it.”
“I hate you.”
“Good. It will make our conversation much easier, and we’ll be on the same page so you can return to Ken over here.”
“You’re a delight,” Jefferson observed.
Knight shot him one of his football-hero smirks that seemed to dismantle ticking bombs. “And you’re in my fucking way.” His gaze shot back to me. “Now.”
I knew Knight would make the rest of the evening hell for Jefferson, Poppy, and me if I didn’t oblige, and we still had to help clean up the place.
Reluctantly, I slid from behind the register and joined Knight outside on the sidewalk. Main Street was buzzing with shoppers, bright lights, and the dense scent of fresh winter air, cocoa, coffee, and baked goods. My mouth would’ve watered if I wasn’t so furious.
“What the hell was that?” I jerked my thumb behind us as Knight slacked against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.
He looked worn out. Frustrated. Exhausted. If he was so distraught, why didn’t he break up with Poppy? Why did he keep this charade going?
“I can’t,” he said simply. “I can’t fucking look at you anymore. It’s wrong. I know. It’s hypocritical. Hell, I know that, too. You owe me nothing, but you slept with someone else, and it’s the only thing I can think about when I look at your face, no matter how much I want to see anything but that.”
He turned his body fully toward me, opening his eyes. I watched as they hardened as he arranged his indecipherable mask. The one I couldn’t get through, even before Josh.
“Screwing FUCKING JOSH. Kissing Vaughn. Flirting with Ken. You’ve really become quite a hussy, haven’t you, Luna?”
“Jealous?” I smiled sweetly, folding my arms over my chest.
Inside, I was fuming. How dare he. How dare he parade his gorgeous girlfriend around while giving me grief. How dare he belittle me. And how dare he slut-shame me when he was the very person who used to raise riots when people said words like slut and hussy around him.
“Jealous? Why would I be jealous? Guy’s a vegan. He probably doesn’t even have the energy to fuck you. Ken here is no competition for me, and we both know it.”
“Tell that to your girlfriend,” I murmured, and we twisted to watch Jefferson and Poppy through the display window of the shelter.
They were huddled in the corner of the room, Poppy showing him something on her phone. She laughed and swatted his chest. Once again, I realized I couldn’t dislike her, even if I tried. Her only sin was being interested in the same guy I was in love with.
Knight looked back at me, jutting his chin out.
“Nice comeback. You open that mouth for FUCKING JOSH, too?”
His words burned hot with lust; they were sweet poison, glossed over an apple I knew better than to bite.
He was picking a fight again. I locked my jaw and narrowed my eyes at him. He’d never been this cruel to me before. I got that he was hurt, but he had no right.
“Not to talk, of course. You’re too precious for talking, aren’t you, Luna? But maybe to suck his dick?” Knight cocked his head sideways, his eyes dead. “C’mon, Luna, is that what it is? You tasted dick and realized how good it is, and now you can’t get enough?”
I turned around and started for my bike, dashing down the road. He grabbed my arm and spun me around.
“Let go, or I’ll slap you again.”
“I’ll take your wrath over your indifference,” he deadpanned, unblinking.
“I’m not giving you a choice.”
“Would people stop saying that? There’s always a fucking choice.” He threw his head back, laughing manically.
“Are you drunk?” I scrunched my nose.
“No,” he shot automatically.
“You seem drunk.”
“What makes you say that?”
“When you’re drunk, you’re mean.”
He was spiraling again. And I was talking to him. Again. Because I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t know how to cut him out of my life, even when he cut me so deep.
“You can’t half-ass a relationship, Knight. Either you’re in or you’re not. You’re with Poppy now, but you treat her like crap. Every time I’m in the room, you put your relationship with her on the back burner. You don’t let me move on without faulting me for talking, or flirting, or kissing other guys. Guess what? I can. More than that, I will. We had our chance, and we blew it. My fault. Your fault. Does it really matter now?” I spoke quickly, breathlessly, my chest rising and falling rapidly. “I will meet someone else. I will sleep with someone else. I will love someone el—”
He cut me off with a searing kiss, slamming my back against the wall in the process. Lacing his fingers through mine, he pinned my hands to the wall beside my waist, caging me in. I growled, knowing we were somewhere public, doing something wrong.
He has a girlfriend. Break the kiss, Luna. Now.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” His tongue ring swirled across my lips teasingly, his kiss hot and incredibly deep as he thrust his tongue into my mouth again. “There will be no one else, Moonshine. I will never let you get over me.”
He took my jaw between his fingers, and I had a moment of epiphany, very similar to the one I’d had when he’d saved me from the car crash.
Knight was not a good guy.
He wasn’t even a decent one. But he’d been my protector. My savior. My guardian angel. Now that he’d quit that role, all bets were off. The precious prize became the prey. My halo was broken. My free passes—no longer free.
“I really do hate y—” I started.
“You already mentioned. Let me assure you: I don’t give a fuck.”
With that, he crashed his lips against mine again. This time, I wrapped my arms around his neck, exploring his delicious mouth, his furious lips, his tongue and the barbell in it—the way he whirled it inside my mouth, devouring me with an urgency I didn’t know someone so cool was even capable of.
Trailing his tongue ring from my mouth to my neck, leaving tingly shivers of desire in his wake, he whispered, “I will make you so fucking wet for me, Luna. So fucking ready. And. I. Will. Never. Fuck. You. Never give you what you want.”
My eyes bugged in shock at the same time I heard Poppy’s voice piercing through the foggy cloud of lust surrounding us.
“Knight?” Her posh accent sounded frayed.
Like if you pulled more words out of her mouth, they’d come out in one thread. She stood there, the evening light twinkling behind her in a gorgeous backdrop, in her sensible navy dress and her Wizard of Oz strappy shoes, unshed tears brimming in her eyes. She looked about as ready to work hard at the shelter as I looked ready to be a KKK poster child.
I cupped my mouth. I didn’t trust myself not to apologize aloud.
You did this, Luna, I wanted to cry. It is because of you she feels this way.
Knight stared ahead, like she was a wall he had to bulldoze through. Jefferson came out of the shelter. He stuffed his hands into his jacket’s pockets, looking between all of us. I was still caged between Knight’s arms. Jefferson put his hand on Poppy’s shoulder. I couldn’t help but notice the disappointment in his eyes when he looked at me.
“How’d you get here?” he asked her.
Rather than answering and risking an outburst, Poppy tilted her chin in Knight’s direction.
“Let me take you home.”
Her gaze lingered on Knight one more moment before she shook her head. They turned around just in time for me to gather my wits, slip from between Knight’s arms, and run to my bike. I didn’t even care that I was running again. That he was chasing me. That Beth and Eugene still needed help. Anything to get away from my angel turned devil. I unchained my bike, flung a leg over it, and sped back to my house. I heard cars honking and Knight cursing behind me, but I dared not look back. This time, neither of us was going to save the other.
This time, we were on our own.
