Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Knox didn’t move or answer. What he did was lean in just enough to crowd me even more, until his beer-laced warm breath brushed along my cheek. It was close enough to make my pulse beat rapidly and adrenaline rush through my veins.
“I don’t like you working here,” he finally said.
I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “Wish in one hand and shit in the other… or something like that.” His smirk grew. “But it doesn’t matter, because I’m here, and I’m not leaving. It’s a good thing you’re not my keeper nor the one who makes the rules.”
His jaw flexed, a muscle ticking at the corner of his sexy lips at my mouthy attitude and sass. “The men here—no matter how long you’ve known them—are feral and become even worse when they’re drunk.”
I said nothing, just crossed my arms over my chest.
“You think this is a game, Kelsie?”
I ground my molars. His alpha, strong-arming attitude wasn’t going to get him far with me. “Respectfully,” I gritted out through clenched teeth, “my life isn’t a game. I’m working here, and when it’s time for me to leave, then and only then will I go,” I shot back, ignoring the way his nearness sent a shiver through me.
Knox didn’t look fazed. Instead, the arrogant bastard reached out and dragged his finger along the edge of the apron tied around my waist. His touch wasn’t much, barely felt through the material, but God did I still feel it.
“This isn’t your world.” His voice dropped low, became hard, and I saw anger in his face. “Not anymore. You left, remember?”
I swallowed hard. “This is my world. I grew up in it. Just because I left doesn’t mean I’m not a part of it any longer.”
Knox’s gaze dipped lower, and it spoke of one thing.
Pure hunger.
“Still stubborn as ever, I see,” he murmured in that gravelly voice that always felt tangible along my skin.
Before I could stop myself, I said, “Don’t fucking act like you don’t like it.”
For fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t I just keep my big mouth shut? I wished the earth would swallow me whole about right now.
Knox let out a slow breath, his fingers grazing the inside of my wrist before he seemed to force himself to pull away. He didn’t call me out for my sass, and instead, his next words hit me in a way that both turned me on and sent a chill up my spine.
“You’re goddamn right I do, baby.”
And then he walked away, leaving me feeling like a bucket of icy water had just been poured over me.
3
KELSIE
The clubhouse, freshly cleaned and humming with the evening’s energy, felt like a haven.
I felt Carter’s glare before I looked up from my work to see him shooting daggers at me.
“What?” I snapped, annoyed because I didn’t have time for the overprotective-brother bullshit he was about to spew my way.
He didn’t waste time, voice warning and rough as he said, “You need to stay away from Knox. I see the way he watches you, and I know you got history, but he ain’t the same man he was back then. He’s hardened, Kelsie. Different.”
I cocked an eyebrow and snorted, shaking my head. “Believe me, I’m not doing anything with Knox.” I continued working, not looking at Carter, but I felt him still glowering.
“I saw him talking to you. Could see the way he watched you.”
I forced a small, dismissive smile, pretending his words didn’t cut deep. “There’s nothing going on between us,” I said smoothly, but I knew it was a lie.
Because in my heart, I knew the truth. Knox still owned me, and no matter how much time had passed, no matter how cold he had become, I could still feel that fire between us burning white hot, leaving smoldering embers in my core.
And staying away from Knox wasn’t an option the longer I holed up at the clubhouse.
Every time I caught Knox’s dark gaze on me, it felt like a challenge—a promise that the bond between us was getting stronger.
Carter huffed out an irritated breath and left me in peace. I tried to keep my focus on my work, serving drinks and moving amongst the rowdy members who filled the room with laughter and clinking glasses.
I kept reminding myself why I came back to the clubhouse, despite it—and Knox—being the reason I left. I needed to keep my mind occupied, needed to focus on the here and now. Because I knew, eventually, I’d have to tell Carter and Knox why I was back.
When the night grew later, I engaged in a polite conversation with a new member who had wandered up to the bar, words slurring, eyes red-rimmed, and a little too friendly. As we chatted and I laughed at something funny but stupid he said, I felt a prickle of tension skitter along my skin. I glanced up, and that’s when I saw exactly why.