Page 60 of Knotted

I let myself go, kissing him back, exploring. A slowburn of tongues colliding, the rough scrape of his stubble against my skin, and the rhythm of his heartbeat pounding against mine.

The sound of applause cuts through the haze, and with one last taste, we pull apart.

His forehead rests against mine, his lips brushing mine with a possessive growl. “Torture,” he breathes.

Holy fuck, am I in trouble.

CHAPTER 25

Jules

By the end of the evening, we hit that inevitable, awkward moment where the last guest has departed, leaving us with nothing but leftover cake and those “now what” expressions hanging between us.

“Logan can take Taylor home, make sure she’s safe,” Brian says, as if he’s worked out a plan. “But I don’t want you going back there, Jules. The Mach 5 media shitstorm means there’s no way you can slip back there unnoticed, not with the vultures circling.”

I think for a minute. Staying with my parents would completely defeat the purpose of the evening—dodging the inevitable questions leading up to a full-blown inquisition.

Brian runs a hand across the scruff on his jaw. “I have something in mind.”

The elevator dings,and the doors open.

“I have four rooms,” Brian says, his voice casual. “You’re welcome to any of them. All of them have toiletries, and I have some spare clothes from Jess. Pajamas. Robes. Anything you need.”

“Thanks.” I nod as we make our way through the penthouse.

“I’ll make sure you have everything you need, Jules, to make your stay comfortable,” he says, his voice a bit too tight, like the words don’t quite fit. Then, with a hint of something almost like regret, he adds, “It’s only temporary.”

Just like me.I’mtemporary.

The place is breathtaking, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of Manhattan, the city lights twinkling like scattered diamonds below.

The upscale finishes are sleek and modern, with marble countertops, polished hardwood floors, and artful touches that speak to a life well-lived. Everything about it screams luxury, but in a way that feels lived-in, not staged, with black-and-white photos of family and friends everywhere.

Each room is a sanctuary of its own, complete with a private bathroom and a walk-in closet that could rival a boutique.

As I wander through one of the rooms, my eye catches on a book resting on a chair. I pick it up, curiosity piqued. “Pinkalicious?” I ask, glancing back at Brian.

He leans casually against the doorframe, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, that friend of mine with the three adorable kids you met...”

“The one who did a serious number on Roxana’s purse?” I interject with a smirk.

He chuckles, nodding. “That’s the one. They stayed herefor a bit while he was building a new home for them. It’s not far from Donovan’s, actually.” He shrugs. “They’re probably the closest I’ll come to having kids around, so I soak up the time with them whenever I can.”

He must catch the curiosity on my face because he adds, almost as an afterthought, “Eternal bachelor.”

He’s quick to steer the conversation away, leading me to another room that’s more gym than guest suite. It’s impressive: weights, a rowing machine, top-of-the-line equipment. But what really grabs my attention is the set of parallel bars and the other specialized gear.

“What’s this?” I ask, pointing to the setup.

“Physical therapy,” he says, his tone easy, like it’s no big deal. “Three days a week. You’ll probably see Cameron in and out of here.”

My gaze shifts to a table tucked in the corner. “And that?”

He follows my gaze, then looks back at me. “That’s a massage table.”

I bite back the flood of questions suddenly swirling in my mind—like, who is Cameron? Is she attractive? Have you dated? Fucked?

Stop it.

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