Page 37 of Make the Play

“What dumb son of a bitch would cheat on you?”

“He did, and it was my fault, apparently.”

“Tell me you don’t believe him.”

“I mean, maybe a little of it was on me, but he was still the one who cheated.”

“No. There is no excuse for cheating. If he wanted out, he should have ended things. A man, a real man, one who’s not afraid of the hard stuff, would do that. You’re better off without him.”

“I know.” I nod, and then, because I feel like I could tell this man anything, I keep going. “The relationship was convenient. Easy, until it wasn’t.”

“Do you miss him?”

I shake my head. “I miss having someone, but now that I’m on the outside looking in, he wasn’t my someone. Not really. We had dinner and saw a few shows together, but he was never mine. I knew that, and so did he, yet we both still stayed.”

“Why?”

I glance out the door and see Sloane waving her hands in the air, which tells me she’s definitely being the distraction that she assumed we needed, and she was right.

Sloane Peterson is my person.

“He was in the world, or close to it. I knew he wasn’t with me to get closer to Landry. It’s hard to meet new people when your brother is one of the top-ranked wide receivers in the professional football league. I’ve been befriended because of him, used and tossed away when they didn’t get the access they wanted. Guys have pursued me, and when they realized it got them nowhere, I was yesterday’s news.”

“Fuck,” Knox mutters. “You’re better off.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my temple. “I’m glad you’re no longer with him.”

Finally, I can’t take it anymore and turn to look at him. His blue eyes are burning with an intensity that I can’t name. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but I can’t seem to find the words. I can’t ask him if he feels this connection that strings between us. I can’t ask him why he’s always touching me.

If I’m being honest, I know why, but I refuse to admit it to myself. I’m pretty sure he feels this intense spark that ignites when we're together. I can also assume that’s why he’s touching me. Here’s the thing. If I say any of that or mention it, it might stop.

I don’t want it to stop.

Not the intensity of this pull toward him.

Not the touches.

“I’m breaking a million fucking rules,” he says, his eyes still locked on mine.

“I know.”

“I can’t stop it.”

“I know that, too.”

“He’d kill me if he knew.”

I shouldn’t ask, but I have to know. I need to hear him say it. “If he knew what?” I know he’s talking about Landry. My brother is only one of the hurdles we’d have to face.Ifwe face them. I’m still unsure if this is a good idea, yet here I am, not pulling away. I could have removed myself from this situation, but I stepped into it instead.

Into him.

His hand slowly traces my spine, leaving trails of warmth as he goes. “That I can’t stop thinking about you. That I know touching you is wrong, but I crave it anyway. That it took every ounce of control I have inside me not to kiss the breath from your lungs when I had you in my arms and up against my truck earlier.”

“Knox.” His name is part whimper, part plea as it falls from my lips.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says softly. His hand lands on my hip, and he gives it a soft squeeze before stepping away.

The door opens, and suddenly, everyone is joining us. I pretend to be busy placing spoons in the side dishes. It’s a flurry of activity while everyone talks and makes their plates. Sloane and I are in the middle of it all, and somehow, I’m acting as if my world didn’t just flip upside down.

We’ll figure it out.

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