Page 108 of Sunrise

“No,” I say the same time Sophie says, “Of course!”

He arches his brow at me. I want to punch that smug look off his face. How the fuck did I go from being on top of the world to shoved under a rug? Because that’s exactly how this feels.

It was a scene, Knox. Not real life.

The logic is there in my brain, but my heart and soul aren’t logical. I want this for real. For always.

They’re getting back to work. Vault’s gone already. Sophie’s dressed to kill, and she’ll be flogging someone new within an hour.

I’m going to be sick.

“Come with me,” Ryker says.

Head fucked and heartsick, I snag my jeans and shove them on, then grab my shirt and shoes. Without looking at Sophie, I leave the room with Ryker, getting smacked with the reality that I’m in an elite kink club where sex doesn’t have to include emotions, only indulgence.

I’ve tried that before. It doesn’t work for me. My heart is always on my sleeve, and I get emotionally attached to everything.

Keeping close to Ryker, my head stays down until we make it through the throng of members already enjoying what the club offers.

He holds the door for me to enter his office first and promptly shuts it behind us.

“Am I in trouble?”

“What are you, five?” Ryker sits behind his desk. “No, you’re not in trouble. The fuck is wrong with you, Knox?”

A lot, I guess. “Then why’d you bring me here?”

“Because I figured you’d want to see this.” He turns one of his monitors around. “Tara sent it to me this morning, but you were… occupied.”

I gawk at the article on his computer screen. There’s a picture of the Vinyl Club and another of the double purple doors that lead to Midnight Run.

“She told me a food critic came in.”

I nod, reading nothing but praise about my food. “Holy shit.” I read the review again. “I thought I ruined it.” My relief is immeasurable. “He liked the risottoandthe wellington. The pastry must have not been soggy on the bottom.” I’m light as a cloud. “I didn’t fuck it up!”

Ryker’s beams with pride at me. “Five stars.”

“Five stars.” My eyes are going to pop out of their sockets. Gripping my head, I gawk at Ry. “Five fucking stars!” Fist bumping the air, I feel like a king. “Holy shit! I really thought that guy was…” I read the review again and scroll down to the bottom. “Wait.” I scroll back to the top.

The profile picture isn’t of the man named Max Born. In fact, I don’t recognize this dude at all. “Fuck me running.”

“Jesus, you’re giving me whiplash with your mood swings, man.”

Pointing at the picture, I scan the screen and find his name at the top of the article. “Doug Palmer.”

“Yeah. Doug fucking Palmer. He’s only one of the toughest critics in the industry, Knox. And you blew him away.”

“But it’s not Max Born.”

“Who cares?” He jerks back, annoyed at me. “What the hell is going on with you? You should be screaming from the rooftops about this.”

“Did Tara not tell you about the guy who came in?”

Now he’s tensing up. His entire body goes into feral mode. “What happened that I don’t fucking know about? Did he do something to Tara?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, bro. He didn’t even notice her.”

That doesn’t make him relax in the slightest.

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