Page 21 of Pucking Knox
My reflection doesn't argue.
Chapter 9
"If x equals the rate of change..." Knox's fingers trace idle patterns on my knee under the study room table. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Yes." I squirm as his hand slides higher. "The rate of change is... um..."
"Eyes on the calculus, Princess." But I can hear the smirk in his voice as his thumb strokes my inner thigh. "Unless you want the whole family to see how distracted you are?"
We're in the most visible study area – my father's idea of damage control. If his daughter has to date an enforcer, at least let people see them studying together. Improving her grades. Being a responsible influence.
If only they could see where his other hand is.
"Knox." I grab his wrist before he can venture higher. "I actually need to pass this test."
"And I actually need to touch you." He leans closer, pretending to look at my textbook. "You're wearing that perfume again."
I am. The one that makes his eyes darken every time I wear it. The one that usually ends with me pressed against various surfaces while his lips are on mine.
"Kennedy?" Patricia's sharp voice cuts through my increasingly inappropriate thoughts. "Your father needs you. Family photos."
Right. The big family gathering. How could I forget?
"Now?" I start gathering my books. "I thought that was tomorrow."
"Your grandmother arrived early." Patricia's lips thin. "And she's asking to meet your... boyfriend."
Knox's hand finally leaves my leg as he stands. "Guess that's my cue."
"Oh, you don't need to—"
"Wouldn't want to keep Grandma waiting."
Not long later, I'm watching Knox charm my entire extended family in the backyard of my childhood home. He's switched his usual bad boy aesthetic for dark jeans and a blue button-down that makes him look almost respectable.Almost.
"So, Knox." My aunt Susan corners him by the drink table. "Kenny tells us you're a hockey player?"
"Yes, ma'am. I play with Ace." He accepts a glass of wine gracefully. "Draft eligible this year."
"Such a violent sport. I always said Ace shouldn’t play." But she's clearly charmed by his manners. "All that fighting..."
“Hi, aunt Susan,” Ace mumbles from the distance, saving us from her judgments.
"Only when necessary." Knox eyes find mine.
Heat floods my cheeks. Beside me, my grandmother makes a thoughtful sound.
"Interesting young man," she says quietly. "Not at all what I expected."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, from your father's warnings, I expected some kind of thug." Her eyes twinkle. "Instead, I find a young man who quotes Fitzgerald, handles your aunt's interrogation with grace, and looks at you like you are the special young woman that you are."
"He doesn't—" I start to protest, but she pats my hand.
"Darling, I may be old but I'm not blind." She sips her wine. "The question is, do you look at him the same way when you think no one's watching?"
Before I can answer, Patricia appears with the photographer.
