Page 58 of Knox

Her bottom lip trembled, and she bit it to hold it still. “So what do we do?”

“Stay the course and tell Nash everything we learn. He can look into things or pass them on to the state police. He’ll know which.”

Sloane nodded, but fear flickered in her eyes.

“Hey.” I reached over the table and took her hand. “I won’t let him near you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can. I do.”

Sloane’s gaze flickered away, but she nodded and stood, gathering our plates. “I should probably get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“You don’t need to sleep on the floor again tonight.” She offered one dip of her chin to underscore the words. “I’ll be okay. Sleep in your bed.”

We moved through the evening routine. Sloane loaded the dishwasher. I did a final perimeter check. We avoided acknowledging the tension that had settled over the house like a heavy blanket.

“Goodnight, Knox,” Sloane said from the staircase, her hand on the railing.

“Night, Sloane. Call if you need anything.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I will.”

Hours later, I lay in the guest room’s massive bed, staring through the window. Listening to the house settle around me and the occasional cry of a night bird. I missed the hard floor beside her bed, because it meant being near her.

I closed my eyes, trying to find sleep and trying not to think about whether or not Sloane was still awake.

It would be so easy to cross the hall.

And what?

No. I am absolutely not going there.

I rolled over and pulled the pillow on top of my head. The fake relationship was strategic. Nothing more. Even if we’d both confessed to our attraction. Having chemistry was very different from being a couple.

Except it never felt fake when I held her hand. And it didn’t feel strategic when I pulled her close and her body melted against mine.

She’d wanted to kiss me last night. And I’d pissed her off by telling her no.

“Idiot,” I grumbled.

I rolled onto my side, frustrated, and punched the pillow into submission. I’d figure this out later. I had to keep my head straight right now. Do my job. And when the investigation was over, when Sloane was safe and the killer was caught, I’d deal with whatever was between us.

If there was anything still between us.

Until then, I just had to maintain control.

Eventually, I drifted into an uneasy sleep. A short time later, less than an hour, I was sure, I woke to the sound of a soft cry from across the hall. Then another, more distressed-sounding than the first.

I was on my feet and through the door before my mind fully registered the decision.

Sloane’s room was dark except for moonlight streaming through the windows when I arrived. She thrashed in the bed, tangled in sheets, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

“No,” she whimpered. “Please, no. Let me go. Let me⁠—”

“Sloane.” I crossed to the bed, rubbing fatigue from my eyes as I sat carefully on the edge of her mattress. “Sloane, wake up. You’re dreaming.”