Page 34 of Knox

The casual endearment sent a cascade of warmth across my skin. My girl. Just part of the act, I reminded myself. Practice for when we have an audience, nothing more. But I loved it anyway.

We drove past several trailheads. Knox slowed each time to scan the small parking areas. No sign of the VW bus, and the morning was heating up. Autumn in Carolina Bay was never cold, but the temperature was always volatile. Hot beneath the sun. Cool beneath the stars. Wind off the water made it feel twenty degrees colder in some places than others. But in the Jeep, at this moment, sweat gathered at my temples and against my lower back.

“We should stop for gas,” Knox said, nodding toward the gauge. “And grab some water. It’s going to be a hot one today.”

He pulled into a small gas station just off the highway, one of the local places that had been there for decades rather than a chain. I recognized it. I’d stopped here before on my hikes, buying cold drinks and trail mix.

Knox parked at a pump and climbed out. I followed. I reached for my wallet when his hand closed gently over my wrist.

“I’ve got it,” he said.

“Knox, this was my idea.”

“I know.” He squeezed gently, his thumb brushing across my pulse point. “But I would never let my date fill my gas tank.”

I met his eyes with mock defiance, loving the possessive feel of his hand on my wrist. “Fine. But I’m getting snacks.”

I headed into the small convenience store. The place smelled of old coffee and cleaning solution, the aisles packed tight with necessities for beachgoers and locals alike. I grabbed two bottles of water from the cooler and debated between trail mix and granola bars a moment too long.

“Sloane?” An unfortunately familiar voice asked. “I thought that was you.”

I turned to find Tyler standing in the doorway, flowers in hand and an expression of concern on his face. He wore pressed khakis and a polo shirt despite the heat, his dark hair styled with too much product, his smile bright and practiced.

Everything about him suddenly felt wrong. Too polished and artificial. Nothing like Knox’s rough edges and genuine warmth.

“Tyler.” I kept my voice level, pleasant but not encouraging. “What are you doing here?”

“I was on my way to your place.” He crossed to me, the flowers, expensive roses, probably from an overpriced florist on the mainland extended like a peace offering. “I saw you walking in here as I passed. I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re all right after the other night.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” His gaze dropped to my throat, then my exposed arms, where the bruises were vivid and hideous. “Jesus, Sloane. Did you even try a little makeup on these?”

“No.” I turned toward the register, hoping to end this conversation quickly. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s not necessary. And I’m not ashamed of what happened to me. I was attacked.”

“Of course you’re wearing bruises as some twisted badge of honor.” Tyler followed me, persistent as always. “I don’t get you. You could have been killed. I’ve been worried sick, and you’re out here alone. Too stubborn to be more careful. Probably trying to prove something to your parents again.” He turned and glanced through the doors toward the lot. “Where’s your car? You aren’t hiking are you?”

“No, and my car is at home. Please tell my parents you saw me. I am fine and well protected.”

“Protected by what?” He cast a mocking glance around the mostly empty store. “You’re wandering around all alone. These are for you, by the way.” He extended the bouquet again, but I made no move to accept it.

“I’m not alone.”

Tyler looked around once more, then peered through the glass to the gas pumps. He groaned, and I assumed he saw exactly who I was with. “The guy from the catering company? Sloane, you don’t know anything about him. He could be dangerous.”

“He is,” I assured. “But not to me. Knox saved my life.”

“He could be playing the hero to get close to you.” Tyler waved the flowers between us with more force than necessary. “You’re vulnerable right now. You’re not thinking clearly. That’s the only explanation for why you’d spend time with some random stranger.”

Heat flooded my face in a wave of anger. “You don’t get to question my choices or tell me I’m not thinking clearly. Also, we’re not together anymore, Tyler. What I do and who I spend time with is none of your business.”

“I’m trying to protect you⁠—”

“I don’t need your protection.” I grabbed the granola bars, ready to pay and get out of this conversation. “I need you to respect my boundaries and leave me alone.”

The door chimed, and Knox walked in. His gaze swept the store in one practiced movement, landing on Tyler and me with sharp focus. His posture shifted seamlessly from relaxed to alert.

He headed toward us, and I felt my breath catch when he arrived. He slid his arm around my waist, pulling me against his side. The touch was possessive, protective, and it sent electricity racing down my spine.