Page 10 of Knox (Graeme #3)

As good As You

I t took me an hour to choose something to wear after the shower. Uncle Ian gave me shower gel, shampoo, and shaving cream from the place he got his, and I smelled good to me by the time I left the bathroom. He'd taught me scent was the first part of getting dressed.

I concentrated on the music, dancing while I stared at the contents of my closet. Mom bought me more than gear for work. Or maybe Uncle Ian provided the new clothes?

I belted out the chorus of Peter Cetera's "One Good Woman" and I chose an undershirt to go under a black sweater. Was still working on whether I wanted skinny jeans or boot cut when a brown hand reached around me towards the shelf.

Finn handed me the dark denim boot cut and smiled. "It's too cold for loafers."

"Thanks," I nodded, pulling the jeans on under my towel. "Did I forget something?"

"Oh, no." Finn shook his head. He frowned at the floor, and I continued to dress, waiting for him to say what he needed to.

The door opened, and Ian poked his head in before joining us. "Did you tell him?"

"No. I don't like the sweater," Finn said, and headed into the closet again.

I looked down. "What's wrong with it?"

Ian fingered the neckline. "Are you sixty? Colin must have bought this."

Finn walked out holding a thinner one with a v-neck. "This with the wool coat."

"Okay. Thank you." I switched sweaters and waited.

"So." Ian clapped his hands together once. "Campton wants you to run lines for the son in the movie."

"Wait. One of the students was supposed to get a role." I shook my head.

"They are," Finn said.

"It's not like that, Josh. You look like you could belong to Sylvie and me. Not to mention, you can act," Ian said.

"What's the movie about?" I asked as Finn brought me a new pair of black boots with a pair of thick socks.

"It's about the old competition, and the ball," Ian said.

I nodded. "So, there's a horse race, and a romance."

"Yeah," Ian sighed.

Finn rubbed his back, and I looked from one to the other. "What's wrong?"

"I haven't exactly told Campton I'm not the romance," Ian muttered.

"Or that I don't want you to do any scenes where you're naked with Sylvie," Finn said.

Ian pointed at him. "You agreed on the pool scene, now."

Finn smiled. "I did. You aren't fucking her, Ian. Alluding to is not doing."

"I have to kiss her," Ian grumbled.

"Wait," I said, and they both looked at me. "I'm doing the sex scenes, aren't I?"

"Reading for isn't a guarantee," Ian said.

Finn rolled his eyes. "He's as good as you. Campton will hire him."

Did I want to be an actor? Hadn't thought about it in those terms. The play was fun, but I didn't think I was good enough for a movie.

"True," Ian murmured.

"I'll read." I shrugged. "Doesn't mean I'll get the part, no matter what you say, Finn. Campton could choose anyone."

"But he won't," Finn said.

"Are you riding with me?" I asked, looking down at Ian's bare feet. "I'm leaving in five and you don't have shoes."

Hadn't seen them go through this, whatever it was. Couldn't call it arguing. I could say that Ian wanted to do something and Finn said no. The situation made me feel weird, and I didn't want to be involved in the conversation anymore.

"You didn't have to make me rewrite it," Ian muttered as I held the door open for them.

Knox backed into the wall as they passed him, and I gave him the once-over. He wore joggers and a hoodie. Had I misinterpreted?

"You look really nice," he smiled as I went back for my coat. "I'm wearing this to the theater." He held up a backpack. "Got my clothes for after in here. When Ginger measured us, she ripped the button off my jeans. Not having a repeat of that."

I wrinkled my nose. "Ginger?"

He nodded. "She's got too many hands."

"Wait until the cast party," I muttered on the way down the stairs. "When she brings wine, she intends to get sloshy, and grows about four more pairs of hands."

"You'll have to hide me, then."

I had several places in mind, but kept them to myself. He may not even be talking to me by then.

We reached the garage door, and Ian hollered for us to wait. Well, damn. When I offered them a ride, it was to get them out of my room. Didn't think they'd take me up on it.

They hurried into the kitchen, still pulling on coats, and I opened the door to the garage. "Y'all are in the back. Knox is sitting up front with me."

Their garment bags for the midnight wedding were already in the SUV when we climbed in. I wasn't going. We had rehearsal, and I hoped they didn't think I was taking them to the hotel after.

"Grenade" by Bruno Mars blared through the speakers when my phone connected. Forgot what I was listening to last, and started to change it, but Knox started singing to me.

I pushed his head to the side and reached for the dash screen. He grabbed my hand and sang the chorus again. I gave up and pressed the button on the remote to raise the bay door. The song ended, and he took my phone while I backed out.

"Shake Senora" (Feat. T-Pain & Sean Paul) by Pitbull sounded through the speakers, and Finn started dancing in the back seat. Knox turned up the volume, and we all sang.

No one said a word about my sad song. Or maybe Knox understood, and that's why he sang it to me.

I really had to stop speculating. If he liked me, he liked me. If he didn't?

Oh, who was I kidding? I really wanted him to like me.