Page 159 of Hard Bargain

“Do you want to go back?” Jacob asked.

Knox hesitated. A small shake of his head, more frustration than refusal. He should have said he didn’t know. Should have lied. Instead, “Yes.”

Liam asked the only question left. “Then why are you sitting in LA instead of with him?”

Knox opened his mouth, and closed it just as fast.

His fingers tightened around the bottle, but no answer came. There wasn’t one that didn’t sound weak or irrational. Every explanation sounded worse once it was spoken aloud.

Jacob broke the silence. “Because trauma doesn’t disappear just because you know it’s ruining things.”

Knox looked at him. “Yes,” he whispered.

The simplicity of being understood hit harder than Knox expected. Of course Jacob would understand. He carried the wreckage of his own childhood. Different rooms, different voices, but the same old damage shaping reactions before thought ever had a chance to intervene.

Knox shook his head, embarrassed by how much he’d let slip. “That’s enough about me.”

Liam, merciful as ever, seized the opening. “Gladly,” he said, turning toward Mason. “Now explain why you’ve been distracted all night.”

Mason narrowed his eyes. “I have not been distracted.”

“You absolutely have,” Jacob said.

“Fine.” Mason exhaled like a man already regretting what was about to come out of his mouth. “I have a patient.”

Knox glanced up. “A patient?”

“I’m a psychiatrist at a rehab facility,” Mason explained.

Liam grinned. “Now tell us about this patient.”

Mason took a slow sip of his drink. “There’s this new admission. Old money. Public disaster. He thinks rehab is a resort and boundaries are negotiable.”

Liam laughed. “Please tell me he flirts with you.”

“Constantly.”

Jacob lifted a brow. “And? I know you. That wouldn’t rattle you. There’s more.”

Mason stared into his glass and muttered to the whiskey. “And I’m irritated that I’m still thinking about him.”

Liam slapped the table. “There it is.”

“It is not a thing.”

“That sounded like a thing,” Jacob said.

Mason looked at Knox, deadpan. “You see what I endure?”

Knox laughed—a real one.

Mason shook his head. “The worst part,” he muttered, “is that underneath all that bullshit and charm, he’s actually brilliant.”

Liam’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re in trouble.”

Mason drained his glass and said nothing, which said everything.

Knox watched him and recognized it—that specific bewildered look of someone who’d been blindsided by a person they hadn’t planned for. Someone who had somehow become important without permission, without warning.