Page 98 of Fighting Mr. Knight

“Not in the slightest.” I sniff, plopping myself down at my desk beside her.

Nisha knows the whole story of the heavy petting incident followed by sharp rejection on Friday night.

“Sure.” She rolls her eyes as she swivels her chair to face me. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t hide away from Jack today because you shouldn’t be alone. I really feel like you’ll have fully moved on after today. What did the therapist say you should do today?”

“Have a helpfulone-hundred poundtherapy session. I broke up with her.” I smile wryly. “Not only because I’m going bankrupt, but I feel ready to quit now. The sessions haven’t been as useful these past few weeks.”

She nods. “I still think you’d be better going out with Kate and me tonight. Nice meal, a few drinks to take your mind off things?”

“No. I’m going to sit in my PJs, eat my feelings, pour wine down my throat and read smut. I might even wear my wedding dress and do a bit of drunk crying. Maybe I’ll arrange a load of online dates. But tomorrow, I’ll be over it.”

Her lips press together. “I’m not happy about this.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s fine. I’m not going to go allbitches-be-crazy. All you have to do today is distract me.” I lean towards her excitedly. “What the hell is happening between you and Darren?”

I couldn’t believe it when she told me they went for dinner last night.

She groans. “Oh, God. I should know not to shit on my own doorstep, but he’s damn good at sex. He should quit his job at Bradshaw and become a prostitute, he’d be much better at that.”

I smile smugly. I knew this day would come. “But you went on an actual date with him last night. Do you want more?”

She blows out her cheeks. “Hewants more. I just want a fling.”

Why is it so hard for two people to get on the same level?

Take Jack Knight. The guy switches between hot and cold so much I’m dizzy. Does he want me or not?

I glance at my phone clock. “Come on, we’re going to be late. Better brave it and get this over and done with.”

We have a meeting with the Lexington team at 9 a.m. I haven’t seen Jack since he pushed me into his car on Friday night.

I messaged to thank him for the ride, to be the bigger person, but that was it. His message back was simplyGlad you got back safe.

The meeting is in the largest boardroom in Lexington.Architecture firms supporting the other phases are there as well.

I walk in behind Nisha, feeling as if I am about to attend a United Nations summit.

Jack leans against the boardroom podium, talking to Sean and other Lexington seniors.

My skin prickles at the sight of him.

Everyone is in a suit but him. He looks sensational. Faded jeans, a white T-shirt complementing his Italian complexion, exposed tattooed arms folded lazily over his chest.

It’s not oftenheis waiting forus.

I take a seat at the back, feeling my face grow hot as I replay the scene of serving myself up to him on a plate.

The rejection hurt.

There’s a dull chatter as Jack talks to Sean, not in a hurry to greet us.

I turn from chatting to Nisha to find Jack’s dark gaze fixed on my bare legs, where the hem has ridden up. I cross and uncross my legs and his hands tighten around the podium edge.

His gaze follows a path up my waist, burning into me like a red sniper dot. It lingers on my chest and collarbone before finally brazenly settling on my face.

Shit.

The dress worked.

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