Page 152 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

“Yeah. No shit.”

“Hey, it’s me time now.” He taps his lips, shushing me. “I was pissed. Because it was Logan, obviously. Guy’s a dick. You can do better. Whatever. But later, while I was glaring at my ceiling at four in the morning, I had an epiphany. I wasn’t angry at you for being with Logan. Fuck, Iunderstoodthat.”

“You did?”

“Yeah! He’s the lead singer of the second hottest rock band in the country. He’s hot as shit.”

I nearly choke. “He’swhat?”

“And…” Knox grimaces, dragging the words out like they’re physically painful. “Ignite the Nightis a fucking banger of a track—and if you tell anyone I said that, it’s back to noogies and atomic wedgies for you, sister.”

“Okay…” I blink as I processthat.“Then why were you angry?”

“I was angry because... you didn’t tell me about it. No, it was more like...” He stops to search for the right words. “Because you felt like youcouldn’ttell me. My little sister was in the throes of her first whirlwind romance, and she couldn’t tell me. Even worse, she had to lie about it. Because she knew—rightfully—that I couldn’t be trusted with that information.” He turns, his expression softening. “Kat, I’m so sorry.”

I wipe a tear from my cheek, my fingers cold against my skin. “It’s okay, Knox.”

“No, it’s not,” he says. “It’s not okay. At all.Iscrewed up, Kat. And you touched on something very real yesterday in that I’ve been so self-absorbed in my relationship with Harmony that I completely lost track of you. I have no idea what’s going on in your life and that’s really fucking sad since I just spent three months on a bus with you. That’s another wonderful epiphany to have a four AM, by the way. To realize that you know more about your goddamn bedroom ceiling than you know about your little sister. That sucks. I haven’t been a very good brother to you lately, and I’m sorry. It’s far from okay. But if you’ll give me the chance, I think I can make it okay between us again.”

I nod, my throat thick.

Knox angles his swing toward mine, dragging the soles of his shoes against the dirt. “Tell me about him.”

“About him?” I ask.

“About Logan.”

I squint. “But... youknowLogan.”

“I knowmyLogan,” he says. “I know that uptight, eyeliner-wearing douchenozzle—who isclearlyjealous of me, by the way.” I roll my eyes. He grins. “But I don’t knowyourLogan. I don’t know the guy who made you smile. The one who, hopefully, made you laugh the way no one else could. The guy who seduced my sister under my nose.” He gestures between us. “Tell me aboutthatLogan.”

I dab my eyes with the edge of my sleeve and sigh. “Turns out, Knox, I don’t really know that Logan, either. He never cared about me. It was all just some dumb game to break us up and win the Battle of the Bands.”

“You think so?”

“What other explanation is there?” I ask.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.”

I scoff. “No, thank you.”

“Really?”

“I don’t want to talk to him ever again.”

Knox hums low in his throat. “Well, shit.”

I glance sideways at him. “What?”

Knox peeks over his shoulder. I turn, following his gaze—and my breath catches when I spot the figure sitting on the rickety bridge that stretches across the center of the playground.

Logan.

“What’s he doing here?” I ask, my chest clenching.

“He’s, uh... he’s with me.”

I blink at Knox. “What?”

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