Page 24 of Keep Me Close

When the little girl gets frustrated and the tower tips over, he doesn’t sigh or tease. He helps rebuild it so it’s bigger and better than the previous one.

“Try again, wild thing. You’ve got this.”

She beams at him like he hung the moon.

It’s not a surprise that he’s so good with Elody. He’s always been amazing with Britt and Colby’s kids. I’ve seen him down on the floor at family gatherings, letting Avery braid his hair or Maddox chase him around the backyard with a Nerf gun.

But seeing him here, in someone else’s home, in this quiet, everyday way, hits differently. Maybe because there’s no audience or noise. He’s not trying to charm anyone or captivate the room. He’s just sitting on the floor in jeans and a T-shirt, helping a little girl rebuild a block tower like it’s the most important job in the world.

He’s both patient and present. Those aren’t words I would’ve used to describe Knox McNichols before.

Kia nudges my arm. “He’s such a softie. Elody adores him.”

I glance at her. “Pretty sure he has that effect on females of all ages.”

She laughs. “Isn’t that the truth.”

We make plans for tomorrow—shopping first and then coffee. She tells me about a little boutique on the Magnificent Mile that her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Rina, took her to that has an amazing selection of gowns.

“That sounds fun. I can’t wait.”

Strangely enough, I mean it.

It occurs to me that, other than the occasional outing with my sisters, I’ve never done something this ordinary with another woman. I’ve never gone shopping, grabbed coffee, or just hung out.

I don’t really have friends in LA. I have acquaintances. Most of them are catty and competitive, and I’m never quite sure if what they say to my face is real or if they talk behind my back the second I leave the room. After being burned a few times by women I thought were my friends, I’ve learned it’s easier to keep my distance.

No one would ever guess that a life filled with shows, teams of assistants, and fans could feel lonely, but most of the time, that’s exactly what it is.

Which is what makes this feel so strange. Kia doesn’t want anything from me. She isn’t sizing me up or waiting for me to slip so she can call TMZ. She’s just offering kindness. It’s so simple and unexpected, I’m almost not sure what to do with it.

Tomorrow shouldn’t matter as much as it does. But the idea of spending a few hours doing something normal with a woman who feels easy to be around fills me with a quiet kind of happiness I’m not familiar with.

When it’s finally time for Elody to go to bed, she throws her arms around Knox’s neck.

“You’ll come back and play again, right?” she asks.

“Of course,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The heartfelt way he says it softens my insides.

After saying our goodbyes, we step into the entryway. As soon as the elevator doors slide closed, sealing us inside the small space, silence descends. Without Elody’s exuberant chatter or Kia talking about the stores we can visit, there’s nothing to distract from the fact that it’s just the two of us again, standing too close in a box of mirrored walls while his clean, masculine scent teases my senses.

I clear my throat as the car descends through the building. “Thanks.”

He glances at me. “For what?”

“For introducing me to your friends. Kia seems nice.”

“She is.”

“And now I won’t be alone while shopping since you don’t trust me out in the world by myself,” I add.

He side-eyes me. “I trust you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“It’s Denver I don’t trust.”