Page 7 of Wild for the Knight

The malicious smile that slides across her face sends a jolt of excitement through me. “Or I guarantee you’ll regret it.”

For whatever jacked-up reason, that makes me grin. “Careful, Terrifying Little Pixie. You’re starting to sound like a good time.”

Her exhale is heavy as she shakes her head, swatting my hand away from her face. “I don’t have time for this. Save your games for someone who does.” She flings her door open, climbs inside with the grace of a gazelle, and pulls away without another glance.

Well, that got us nowhere. I give my head a shake, trying to clear how good it felt to touch her as I walk back inside. I stop short when I notice Zeke standing by the door. “What?” I snap.

“Abby and Tatum sitting in a tree—” I smack him in the chest with the back of my hand as I school my face and head toward the free weights section. “What was that about?”

“Greyson asked us to plan a surprise bachelor/bachelorette party for Hannah, and we were supposed to meet up this morning, but I completely forgot about it.” I sigh, my hand running down my face, stopping on my beard that could use a trim. “She, however, did not.”

His head tilts back as he lets out a rumbling laugh. “I’ve never met anyone who hates you as much as she does.” He leans against the wall with a smirk that makes me want to hurl one of these dumbbells at his head. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, though, dude.” He wiggles his eyebrows, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth to keep from laughing.

“Not interested,” I mutter, grabbing the thirty-pound dumbbells and starting my first set of curls. My biceps burn as I continue the movement, a welcome distraction from the conversation. He catches my eyes in the mirror, his lips pulling up into a half smile as he shakes his head and picks up his weights.

The truth is, once you’ve been burned, it becomes so unappealing to trust again. I don’t hand it out like candy, especially not to women. Nikki took everything I gave her and turned it into a weapon. So, no, I’m not interested. Not in the fiery blonde who just handed me my ass on a platter, not in anyone. And I’m certainly not interested in the whole enemies-to-lovers, slow-burn, tension-filled nightmare, my book club-loving best friend is so eager to pin on me.

“Why are we here, Zeke?” I ask as he walks me into the Hawks arena. Greyson’s car was in the parking lot, so my immediate thought was that he was pulling the big brother card on my planning failure, again. I’m sadly mistaken as he pushes Abby’s office door open.

“Ms. Knight, I brought you a present!” he sings as Abby looks up from her computer, eyes blank as they bounce between us.

“Wow,” She deadpans. “I thought presents were supposed to bring joy to the receiver.” Her voice remains unbothered as she blinks slowly. Zeke, on the other hand, makes a choked sound before his head falls forward and laughter bellows from the depths of his soul. The loud, uncontrollable rumble kicks my annoyance up a notch or ten.

“He told me about his failure to make it to planning meetings.” His head jerks in my direction. “Figured I’d deliver him myself,” he chides.

“What the hell, dude?” What happened to bro code? I mean, I deserve it, I’ve dropped the ball twice now. But how does he know when planning meetings are, and why didn’t he say anything if he knew?

“While I appreciate the sentiment, Zeke,” she says, purposely avoiding eye contact with me. “I’m not in any position to have a planning meeting with someone who has made it quite clear he doesn’t care. His brother will be here any minute to work through shoulder mobility,” she states in her professional tone. Her level of indifference grates against me in the worst way.

“I’m sorry,” I grunt. Her head snaps in my direction, the cap of her pen resting perfectly between her slightly parted lips. How am I just now noticing how lush they are? And why does she look so good in scrubs today? Get it together, man.

“Like I said the other day, I do not need you.” She chews on the cap, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. I swallow roughly as she continues. “Whether you show up or not, isn’t my damn to give.”

Zeke picks that moment to slap me on the back before walking out of the room. The dude loves to stir the pot and then leave me to clean up the mess. Like now, as I’m on the receiving end of Abby’s calm demeanor, which might be worse than when she’s angry.

I pull out a chair on the opposite side of her desk, interlacing my fingers before I lean my forearms against it. Her eyes track the movement, a spark of heat passes through them before they harden as they meet my own. “Look, I’ve been a horrible planning partner,” I start. “I’ve been selfish with my time and completely forgot about our meetings.” She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at me.

“Do you know why I work better alone?” she asks. I shake my head. “I don’t have to depend on anyone else to get things done. Every meeting we scheduled has action items split between the two of us. If I could have handled this by myself from the start, most of it would be done already.” She sits forward, mirroring my posture.

“I broke this up because Greyson asked me to. I didn’t do it to help inflate your warped sense of importance. If you don’t want to help, bow out.” She gives me a slow, disapproving once-over before settling back on my face. Her lip pulls up in an adorable snarl. “I’m not going to hold my breath.” She rips a piece of paper out of the notebook she had at her place the other day and hands it to me.

“We don’t need to talk for you to get this done. And if you can’t find the time, let me know. I’ll do it.” She leans back in her chair, eyes bouncing between her computer screen and me. “You do your thing, I’ll do mine. Stay out of my way. I mean it.”

She tucks her notebook back into her bag, which is hanging on a hook on the side of her desk. Looking down at the list, I realize it’s some of the most basic things one could do. Her lack of faith in me is warranted, though. I haven’t exactly proved that I’m dependable in this situation. And that bothers me on a whole different level.

There’s a gust of wind from behind me, I turn in time to see my brother fly into the room, barely stopping before he runs into the therapy table. “Woah! Hey, broski!” He says as he runs a hand through his hair that desperately needs to be cut. “What are you doing here?” He looks between Abby and me, his eyes darting back and forth like he’s following the world's most interesting ping-pong match.

He snaps his fingers before hopping up on the table to my left. “Ohhh, I get it, Hannah’s home today, so you had your planning meeting here. That’s smart. You two are sneaky!” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as Abby laughs.

“You caught us. We just confirmed we were going to play 'pin the ring on the fiancée,' but with consequences varying based on how far off you were.” I nod along like it makes perfect sense when, in reality, it sounds like the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.

“Oh, that sounds fun! Can we make it a drinking game?!”

“No, Hannah was adamant about no alcohol.” She’s a smart one. Hannah’s the mother hen. If alcohol was involved, she’d end up babysitting someone at her own party.

“But, weren’t you guys going to Miami? How’s that possible without drinking?” I ask, deciding to fall into our normal routine and play Devil’s advocate.

“You don’t have to drink to be in Miami, you oversized oaf,” she snaps, her voice taking on the exasperated tone she saves specifically for me like she’s a fire-breathing dragon talking to an insolent child. Her eyes lock on mine, leaving me fumbling for air as my hand slips into my pocket, nervously playing with the edges of the list she gave me.