Page 2 of In the Long Run

Here’s the thing that doesn’t make sense.

Aside from the fact that I’m nothing special, it’s been weeks since we broke up.

And our dates weren’t anything exciting, just two people sharing meals and talking about stuff that doesn’t matter.

I’d thought it was clear to both of us that our relationship wasn’t going anywhere.

So much for my assumption that he’d forget about me in two seconds – get swallowed back up in his family’s real estate empire or go back to his playboy ways.

But if he’s not going to listen to me, maybe he needs to see that I’ve moved on, even if it is pretend.

‘Way to be uncool, man,’ Brody says. ‘Gen’s here with Knox. Respect the bro code.’ He laughs and mock-punches Brand’s arm.

Brand scoffs. ‘No one respects Watson.’

Knox is basically made out of granite right now and I get the sense he’s holding himself back, biting his tongue.

‘I do,’ I say, taking a chance and reaching for Knox’s hand. He tilts his head towards me and our gazes catch. His eyes soften and I almost fall off my chair when he winks. I’d wager my weekly takeaway meal – one of the few extravagances I still allow myself – that he doesn’t wink often.

‘Genny,’ Brand pleads, ‘I just want to talk. Please? I gave you space like you asked me to.’

Knox rests his other hand on top of our intertwined fingers. ‘Forget the bro code,’ he says, voice all gravelly and oh, mama . ‘How about you be a good guy and listen to what Gen’s saying?’ He glances at me, and I take my cue, looking Brand in the eye.

‘I’m staying. You can go,’ I say, and it’s an effort to stop my exasperation from flooding each word. I’ve got enough problems sleeping without adding a stalker to the list.

‘You’re causing a scene,’ Brand huffs. It’s the first sign that his control’s wavering.

‘I was thinking we could head back to my place soon.’ Knox says it so casually and smoothly that I can’t fathom why he thought Brody would be better at this than him.

His expression’s still calm but there’s a determination in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

His thumb rubs the top of my hand. Like he’s aware I might need a visceral reminder that I’m not on my own right now.

That I’ve got a teammate. Or maybe I’m reading the whole situation wrong. God knows I’ve got priors.

‘I’d like that.’ Maybe later, once I’m home and all tucked up in bed, I’ll let myself envisage what going home with Knox would look like. It’d be good, that’s obvious. He might question his confidence, but he seems kind. And kindness trumps everything else – if it’s real.

‘I’m standing right here,’ Brand says.

‘Making unnecessary noise. It’s just like high school, huh?’ Knox says without taking his eyes off me.

‘People are watching,’ Brand says.

Knox’s thumb stills and I miss the soothing motion immediately. ‘So?’ he says, breaking our eye contact. ‘Let them watch. Consider this an informal TED Talk on respecting women. Gen’s asked you to leave her alone.’

I’m a feminist. Proudly so. But there’s something about how genuinely and earnestly Knox defends me that makes my stomach flutter, my cheeks heat.

Brand’s laugh is loud and shocked, like we’re on a hidden camera show and the whole room’s about to chuckle and shake their heads at me.

Can you believe she didn’t pick Brand Bolton?

they’ll all say. Like I should be grateful that he’d even look at me.

Hell, half of them probably expect me to get on my knees and thank him for deigning to talk to me.

But that’s not going to happen and not just because my quads are still screaming at me from yesterday’s hill repeats.

Brand’s eyes narrow but I refuse to look away or move.

‘Fine. I’ll call you later.’ He sighs, spins around and weaves between the tables, stopping twice to shake hands and laugh with other patrons.

I don’t relax even after the door closes behind him.

‘What a dick,’ Brody says. ‘You really didn’t undersell him, Forty.’

My attention shifts back to Knox as he removes his hands from mine. ‘You went to high school together?’ I ask.

‘Unfortunately.’ As Knox lifts his beer it feels like he’s going to say something else, so I wait, but after a few seconds it’s clear I’m wrong.

I reach for my bag and push back from the table.

The adrenaline dump from dealing with Brand is coming and I’d rather it hit when I’m at home, filling my face with palak paneer and garlic naan while watching the latest episode of The Great British Bake Off .

‘Well, thanks for doing that. Nice meeting you both.’

‘Wait, are you leaving?’ Knox asks. Is he disappointed or am I imagining it?

I pull my keys out of my bag and palm them. I don’t have far to go but it is dark. ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time.’

‘Please. You made Forty smile. That’s quite the achievement, especially today.’ Brody raises his glass in salute.

Knox scrubs a hand across his jaw, scratching at the dusting of stubble there. ‘What if he’s waiting outside?’

I pause. Damn it.

‘Here.’ Knox finishes his drink. ‘I’ll walk you to your car.’

When he stands, I look up and up and up.

He’s way taller than I thought. Easily six three – maybe more?

There’s no way Brand would risk his manicure challenging Knox to anything physical.

And while I don’t think Brand would get physical with me, it is becoming concerning that he won’t leave me alone.

‘I walked.’

Knox slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans. ‘Then I’ll walk you home.’

‘It’s okay,’ I say. My personal alarm is attached to my keyring. Mum bought it for me when I started doing early morning runs.

‘Just let him have this,’ Brody says. ‘He’s had a long day.’

Which is why I definitely shouldn’t take up any more of Knox’s time.

‘I’d feel better knowing you got home safely.

’ There’s that humbleness again. This time it’s accompanied by a shy smile that softens the harsh lines of Knox’s face.

It’s stunning, frankly. He’s stunning. Like the sun rising over the bay.

Like accounts that balance on the first try.

Like hitting my target running pace and having it feel easy. All my favourite things.

I pause. We don’t actually know each other. What if I’m swapping one stage-five clinger for another? If I was to survey the dining room right now, everyone would say Brand’s a nice guy. What would they say about Knox?

‘Here. Send a picture of this to someone you trust.’ Knox flips open his wallet, showing me a picture of him wearing … is that camouflage?

‘Wait. You’re really in the Army?’

His expression dims. ‘Yes. So’s Yeti.’

‘And the nicknames are an Army thing? So Forty’s—’

‘Fort Knox.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘I made the rookie mistake of saying I didn’t like it, so of course, it stuck.’

‘Yeah, it did.’ Brody laughs again.

‘Okay, thanks,’ I say, snapping a quick picture and sending it to my flatmate Caleb with a short text promising to explain later. ‘Thank you too,’ I say to Brody.

‘You kids have fun now,’ he replies, knocking Knox’s hand away when he tries to shove him.

We don’t speak until we’re outside. The air has cooled significantly and I curl my hands inside my jumper sleeves.

‘I’m just there.’ I point at the old white brick building down the block that’s been my home for the last two years.

I never expected to stay so long, but living with Caleb is easy and the view over the bay is one of my favourite things to look at.

If it wasn’t Caleb’s aunt’s flat, there’s no way I could afford it, especially not now while my new bookkeeping business struggles to find its feet.

‘Really?’ Knox stops next to one of the large Norfolk pines that marks the start of the path to the beach. ‘I grew up there. My godfather still lives there, too.’

I’m about to ask who Knox’s godfather is when a shadow near the front door distracts me. A man steps forward and the glow of the streetlight illuminates his face. It’s Brand.

Knox sighs heavily.

‘Persistent, isn’t he?’ I say.

‘Persistence is usually admirable. Blindly ignoring a woman asking you to leave her alone is the opposite of that. It’s not hard to be a good guy.’

That settles it. I’ll be seeing Knox in my dreams later.

Brand doesn’t say anything as Knox opens the metal front gate before twining our hands together. One of the ground floor tenants has filled their courtyard with lavender, but Brand’s presence sours the sweet scent.

Knox’s steps slow and he releases my hand. But before I can be disappointed, he slings an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in tight next to him. Can muscles have muscles? Because it feels like his do. ‘Just keep looking at me,’ he murmurs. ‘I’ve got you.’

‘Genny, please,’ Brand says. ‘You’re making a mistake. We could be so good together.’

‘What do you say, Gen?’ Knox asks, a playful lilt curling around my name, making me scrunch my toes in my sneakers. I shouldn’t like it as much as I do. ‘Him or me?’

‘You’ slips from my lips on a breathy sigh I’m not even close to faking.

Knox uses his key fob to unlock the glass front door and guides me into the foyer. The door shuts with a soft snick. ‘Is he still there?’ he whispers.

The words rumble across my skin, setting off a trail of goosebumps. I peek around Knox’s shoulders. Brand frowns back at me. ‘Yes.’

‘This okay?’ Knox pushes me back against the wall and slides his hands up my arms until one is buried in my hair and the other cups my jaw. He runs his thumb across my lip and lowers his head towards mine.

‘Uh-huh.’

Honestly, it’s a miracle I can respond at all. I’m caught in the heat of his gaze, the gentle grasp of his hands and the weight of my own desire, which no longer has anything to do with Brand. Sue me for wanting to kiss a kind, hot guy. It’s been forever since I’ve had real chemistry with someone.

Knox leans forward, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

I like the idea of doing that for him, so I press up on my tiptoes, my fingers gripping his shoulders for balance.

Anticipation floods my system; this is like waiting for the starting gun at a race.

Also, I’ve figured out what I’d like for my thirtieth birthday.

It’s to climb this man like a tree. No pressure, no expectations, just fun.

I deserve a little fun.

The promise of how good this is going to be heats the air and when Knox ducks his head, a quiet moan escapes my lips. God, tell me you’re hard up without telling me you’re hard up.

‘Bolton still there?’ he asks softly.

‘Who cares,’ I mutter, inching closer … until my brain catches up and I realise what Knox’s asking me.

The front stoop is empty. ‘Oh, um, no, he’s gone.

’ Embarrassment washes over me and I duck out of Knox’s embrace, smoothing my hair and dropping my gaze to the floor.

Of course Knox didn’t want to kiss me. This was all about Brand.

They clearly have history. He was pretending, like I asked him to.

I clear my throat and Knox opens his mouth, but I cut him off. ‘Thanks again,’ I say, swallowing the bitterness of each word as I scurry up the stairs.

New plan: all I want for my thirtieth birthday is for everyone to leave me alone.