Page 33 of Captured Love

He starts to turn away, but I stop him with a soft, “Knox.”

He turns back around with an eyebrow raised.

“Thank you,” I say. “For explaining. It does help.”

He gives me a small, almost tentative smile. “I'm glad. See you around, Selene.”

As he walks back to where Blaise is, I sink back into my chair, exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster of the last ten minutes. My mind is a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts and feelings. I look at my laptop and I’m convinced my life would make an excellent storyline on the show that is still playing on the screen. With a sigh, I close the lid and take out my earbud. There’s no way I’ll be able to focus on anything now.

The rest of my shift drags on because I’m hyperaware of Knox. With seven minutes left in my shift, I start to pack up my things. The library is almost completely empty now. and I start the lockup procedures. I take one last look at Knox's table. Blaise is gone, but Knox remains, flipping through a textbook with the kind of disinterest you'd expect from someone sentenced to read.

I walk over to the loudspeaker to announce, “Last call for anyone who wants to check out books. The library will be closing in five minutes.” The intercom crackles as I set it back in its cradle. Knox doesn’t even flinch, just continues to turn pages like he’s killing time.

Strange.

I head back to the front desk and make sure everything is exactly where I left it. Then I double check that the back room is locked up tight, and once that is confirmed, I walk back to where my things are, surprised to see Knox standing there for the second time tonight.

“You’re closing up alone?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say cautiously. “Why?”

“It's late,” he says, and I can see him trying to play it cool. “Just thought maybe you’d want someone to walk you to your car.”

“I can take care of myself,” I say, though the offer is tempting. The campus isn't exactly dangerous, but walking alone at night never feels entirely safe.

“I know you can,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “But still.”

I take a moment to study him. This whole evening has been one surprise after another, and I'm not sure how many more I can handle. “Okay,” I say finally. “If you're going that way anyway.”

He nods, and I gather my things and throw on my coat. Once I’m bundled up tight, we walk to the library’s entrance. I double check that the doors are locked before we leave the building.

As we are walking across the street to the parking lot, Knox walks beside me. He’s not too close but not distant either. I appreciate that he's not trying to force a conversation on me because at this point, I’m all talked out.

When we reach the parking lot, I fish my keys out of my bag and let them dangle from my finger. “This is me,” I say, pointing to my silver sedan. “Thanks for walking with me.”

“Anytime,” he says, stopping a few steps away. There's an awkward silence where it feels like he wants to say something more, but he's holding back.

I unlock my car and open the door, setting my bag on the passenger seat. The cold air bites at my cheeks, and I pull my scarf tighter around my neck. I turn back to him, expecting him to have already started walking away, but he's still there, watching me.

“Get home safe, Selene,” he says finally.

“I will,” I reply, not sure what else to say. “You too.”

Knox gives me a small wave, but stays until I get into my car and lock the doors behind me. He starts to walk away as I pull out of the parking lot, and I notice he’s walking to the only vehicle left in the lot. And on my drive back to my dorm room, I’m left wondering what are the chances that this evening was truly a coincidence or perfectly planned out by the man I can’t get out of my head.

14

KNOX

“Think Coach is going to let you play in our next game?”

I want to roll my eyes at Blaise to show him just how much he’s annoyed me, but I refrain. I know he’s talking about my shoulder and the fact that I’ve been out the last two games because of an injury I sustained due to one of the assholes on the Saints.

“He better. I’m over sitting on the sidelines,” I say as I check my phone to see the time. My sister should be here in a few minutes.

I take a swig from my water bottle and glance at Blaise, who is now busy flipping through the channels. He finally settles on a rerun of one of last week's NHL games. After watching two of the players slam into the boards, my shoulder aches in sympathy.

Blaise looks over at me, a hint of concern hidden behind his generally carefree expression. “You sure you're ready, man? I mean, we don’t want you coming back before you’re ready because we need you in top form.”

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