Page 34 of Knot Going Down

“You think a laptop full of evidence will just be chilling on an end table next to the crab cakes during cocktail hour?”

“I’ve got to try something.”

Knox narrows his eyes at me. “You really hate him. Why?”

I stand up. There’s no way I’m answering that question. I don’t owe Knox anything, especially not my history with Glenn.

“You can be my date to the wedding,” he taps the table with the bottom of his spoon, “but just so you know, I’m highmaintenance. I expect compliments, emotional availability, and a solid cake-to-champagne ratio. And if you expect me to let you lead on the dance floor…” Knox dips his spoon into the mystery pink pudding, gives it an exaggeratedly slow seductive lick, then makes a dramatic lunge for his Bloody Mary like the substance personally offended him, completely ruining the use of his bedroom eyes.

I snort, despite myself. The bastard's impossible to take seriously. I wonder how he even got involved with a guy like Glenn. Not that it matters.

My amusement fades as Lucas rejoins us holding two plates piled full of food. His smile is simple and easily earned, a little like Emily. But unlike Emily, there’s nothing innocent in the way Lucas’s gaze rakes over my body as he hands me one of the plates.

“Ready?” he asks.

I kick Knox’s chair. “Let’s go.”

“But I’m not finished.” Knox shoves another bite of waffle into his mouth. Is that his fourth or fifth?

I lean over his chair. “You stay glued to my side, remember? So get up. I’m leaving.”

Knox grumbles, but grabs the rest of his waffle with his hands and snacks on it the whole way back to the room.

19

KNOX

The pool deck glows under the lazy morning sun, all shimmering water and slow-moving shadows. Ladies lounge in string bikinis beneath wide-brimmed hats, half-asleep with cold drinks sweating on side tables, but my focus is only on The One That Got Away.

What I told Emily last night wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either. We drifted apart because we were too different, because I didn’t want to pull her into my darkness and my problems, but I was a selfish bastard, and I would have done it if it weren’t for her brother. Dude knocked some sense into my brainless, seventeen-year-old, sex-driven self.

I need to remember that.

Cause not much has changed since then. I’m still an asshole with a dark side, still involved in things Emily shouldn’t be anywhere near.

But fuck, she does it for me.

And if the looks she’s casting my way from where she’s floating with Ava in the pool are anything to go off of, I still do it for her, too. The two of them look good together.Reallygood. They’re squeezed into a single donut inner tube, heads closetogether like they’re telling secrets. Girl World is a stunning place to witness.

Ava gives Emily a look that’s softer than anything else I’ve seen from her. Her gaze drops to Emily’s lips, and I find myself holding my breath.

My dick twitches, and I change positions to try to keep my growing erection from being detected by Mr. DEA, who is stretched out on the lounger next to mine. He’s reading a book, a romance with a shirtless guy on the front that I tried teasing him about, but he was completely unamused and unashamed. I respect that boldness. Declan isn’t the kind of guy to feel shame or the need to explain himself to anyone.

He’s only half reading, though. His eyes are on the two women in the pool as much as the page. And when I move, his gaze shoots in my direction. He’s like a fucking hawk. Always alert. It’d probably take him less than ten seconds to have me handcuffed again if he thought I was about to try anything.

Shit, now my dick is definitely hard. What’s wrong with my messed up brain that the thought of being restrained by this guy and hate fucked is a turn on?

I need a drink.

“Want anything from the bar?” I stand up and adjust myself as discreetly as I can, trying to will the blood to flow back to my brain.

“You’re not going to the bar.”

“It’s either that or go full rut on the pretty betas in the pool.”

The scent of sunscreen hangs in the salty air, mingling with the ocean breeze and Declan’s potent woodsy smell. The contrast is surprisingly nice, but I find myself wishing for the peach bellini that might tie it all together. Sadly, Lucas opted for a workout instead of swimming.

Mr. DEA growls in that sexy way he’s constantly doing, which does nothing to help my poor pillar of a dick. He stands up, dropping his book on the chair. “I’m going with you.”