Page 18 of Sunrise (Monarch Club #3)

Knox

It’s been five days since my best birthday weekend ever came to an end. I haven’t reached out to Vault or Sophie at all. It’s not that I don’t want to see them, but I’ve got a life outside the club, and responsibilities, and, honestly, I’m a little fucked in the head about what to do next.

Am I supposed to wait for them to contact me?

Go back to “normal” and act like Vault and I didn’t have a glimpse of something wonderful again?

Should I fuck Sophie at the club so he can watch and want to join?

The last thing I want is to push him too hard too fast, so I’ve been chillaxing as best I can.

We’ve texted occasionally this week, like always, but nothing special.

He hasn’t brought up what we did and neither have I. Maybe this weekend was a one off.

“Damnit!” I rip the flaming pan from the stovetop and slam a lid on it.

Tristan side-eyes me but keeps his mouth shut. Smart. I’m not in a mood to be called out on the fact that I just charred simple bananas foster. Oh, the humility. I swear to fucking god I need to get my head back on straight if I’m going to amount to anything.

“Chef?”

I turn to see Mila, my newest hire, staring at me like a sheep would a wolf. “Yeah?”

“Umm.” Her cheeks quickly turn red. “There’s been a complaint about your dish.”

I know damn well she didn’t say what I think she just said. “What?”

“There’s a complaint about your dish.”

“I heard you the first time,” I grumble. “What, who, and where?” Because they can suck my big, fat dick. I would never serve a fucked-up dish. And if I find out Tristan has, I’ll kill him.

She points behind her at the door. “Table nine.”

Hold up. Table nine ?

I leave the kitchen like my ass is on fire and find Sophie sitting in the booth reserved for family only, sipping her chardonnay with a shit-eating grin on her face. My fury fades instantly. Gathering my calm, cool, collective vibes, I swagger over chill as a cucumber.

“I knew that would get you out here in a hurry.” She rests her glass on the table beside a small plate of calamari with spicy marinara dip that’s barely been touched.

“You could just come into the kitchen to see me.”

“And miss an opportunity to get you all fired up? Never.”

My gaze drops to her appetizer again. I pluck one and eat it to make sure it’s tender and not chewy. Mmm. Pretty good. Tristan nailed it.

“So did you come here to start shit, or is there a problem?”

Sophie tilts her head to the side and studies me. “Why does there need to be a problem for me to want to see you? ”

Hmm. Let’s see. Because she never just drops by for no good reason. Not by herself, at least. And everyone comes to me with their problems. I swear I should have been a fucking therapist.

“So, nothing’s wrong?” I cock my brow at her. “You just came to say hi.”

She picks her glass up again and swirls it. “I came because I miss you.”

My heart kind of swoons. She’s never said anything like that to me before. Why now?

“And…” She flashes a coy smile. “I was hoping you could give me a recommendation for a spicy audiobook.”

“Oh, now I know you’re fucking playing.” I sit back and tap the table with my thumb, irritated. Her gaze immediately falls to it, and I stop.

“I’m serious,” she eventually says. “I want to listen to something new.”

“You could have texted.”

“Like I said…” She doesn’t falter. “I missed you.”

No one misses me. Ever. Just once in my life, I’d like for someone to think about me.

For no reason other than because I make them smile.

I want to matter. To mean something good to someone else.

Sometimes Sophie makes me feel like I’m the good in her day.

Like right now. But I have no idea if it’s genuine and sometimes I don’t trust it.

I’ve tried to get Sophie to open up to me like I do her, but she’s more secretive than Vault and I combined.

That’s not a compliment.

Clearing my throat, I play along. “You want romance or romance?” That’s all I read, which she’s well aware of.

Sophie giggles and I love hearing it. Maybe I’m full of myself, but I swear I’m the only human in the world that can make this woman giggle . It makes me feel like a fucking god, too.

“Romance, please.” She pops some calamari into her mouth.

“Spicy or sweet?”

“Is there a big difference?”

“You want to be collared and gagged or cuddled?”

She chews her next bite slowly. “Can’t I have all three?”

Definitely. “Plot or no plot?”

“Plot, please.”

“MF, MMF, MM, FF, or RH?”

“MF.”

Damn. Why does that hurt a little? I shouldn’t just assume she wants a book with a throuple. It’s not like she’d want to read something similar to the situation in her real life. We read to escape, not rehash reality.

“Dark or light?” Grabbing her wine, I take a healthy sip and wait for her answer.

“Light.” Her tone’s softer when she adds, “Please.”

“Contemporary or Fantasy?”

“My god, Knox, just give me a fucking book rec!”

“It’s not that simple. Tell me your preference.”

“Fantasy. Actually, I want something with aliens.” She leans back with this victorious smile, as if she can somehow stump me.

Not today, sweetheart .

Biting back a cocky smirk, I mentally sift through the catalog of romance novels stored in my brain and pull out my cell. A couple quick taps and I send three Knox-gave-this-five-stars audiobooks her way.

“They’re in your inbox.” I stand and smooth my chef coat down. “As much as I’d love to sit and chat, I have to get back to work. Let me know what you think of the alien dicks.”

“I will. Thank you, Knox.” She looks a little dejected that I’m about to leave. I turn and take a step away when suddenly… “Have you talked with Vault?”

There it is. Her real reason for showing up like this. Spinning back around, I give her my full attention. “Not really. Why?”

“No reason.”

I narrow my gaze at her suspiciously. “Is he okay?”

“He’s been in his office day and night, like usual, so I’d say yes.”

And I’d say no. Vault needs to get out more.

Touch some fucking grass. We were active and adventurous before the Monarch Club became his hiding place and biggest distraction from life.

The fact that he never lets the sunshine hit him anymore is a bad thing, in my opinion.

That he’s back at the grind doesn’t surprise me, though.

I should have known better than to hope one weekend together would change his life for the better.

It certainly didn’t fix us, not that I thought it would.

“I’ll call him later.” Leaning over, I go to kiss her but stop myself. We’re not like that. Yeah, we fuck, and I’ve poured my heart and soul out to this woman, but we’re not a couple who shows affection in public.

That’s her rule, not mine.

“I’ll have another glass of wine brought over,” I say, grabbing her now empty glass to hide the fact that I was about to kiss her. “Do you want anything else from the kitchen?”

“Only you.”

I slow my roll.

Is she serious? My dick thinks so. It’s already rising to the occasion.

“Meet me in the bathroom?”

I shake my head. “Upstairs, storage room.”

I don’t fuck in bathrooms. I’ll rail her in the old kitchen-turned-storage room like a gentleman.

“Won’t we get caught up there?”

My grin is pure evil. “Only if you can’t keep quiet.”

Her eyes widen and pupils dilate. She’s not even a little stealthy with how she rushes to shimmy out of her side of the booth and asks, “See you in five?”

“Three.”

Sophie snakes through the packed tables of Midnight Run and heads upstairs to the club that’s thumping with techno music.

This is very uncharacteristic of her. Of the two of us, she’s the one who’s always locked in and serious.

To have her giddy and dashing out the door is strange. Cute… but strange.

While giving her a head start, I take a moment to admire my blessings.

Midnight Run is at full capacity tonight, just like it is every night.

Money is rolling in— finally —and I’m proud to have this chance to make something of my life.

Hell, I’m almost proud of myself . Wonder what it’ll take to finally feel like a winner?

Midnight Run has become super popular in a short amount of time, which is nice.

This shit-tastic venue has come a long way.

My pops used to own this place and back in the day, it was a nightclub that turned into a strip club, that turned into a dilapidated shithole because, between booze, drugs, and gambling, he ran it into the ground.

I almost lost it to a real estate company that offered him more money than he could spend in a lifetime, but Ryker, Dmitri, and Vault came to my rescue and helped me save it at the last minute.

It’s one of the many reasons I’ve thrown myself into this place.

I can’t let it fail. It would be like failing them, and that’s never happening.

Smoothing my hair back, I meander through the restaurant, stopping to ask how the food is at a couple tables.

Their satisfied smiles and cleaned plates make my heart happy.

Midnight Run’s guests are loaded with money and bourbon.

May the drinks keep pouring and the dough continue to roll the fuck in. Amen. Hallelujah.

Pushing the purple double doors open, I hit the steps two at a time.

The upstairs club is bumping, and I can feel the beat in my chest even from back here.

Thanks to Tara’s help, and Ryker’s influence, I hired managers for the upstairs club, so I don’t have to worry about it.

My baby is Midnight Run. The Vinyl Night Club is just a front, honestly.

It’s a vibe to have a secret, underground restaurant that’s hard to get into and I’m all about the hard-to-get-in aesthetic.

Sophie’s waiting in the back corner for me. Her black dress hugs her body like a second skin. Pair that with the fact that she’s got legs for days? My god, I’m one lucky motherfucker .

“You really missed me, huh?” I swagger over, shamelessly fishing for compliments.