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He scoffs. “Unbelievable. She’s using you again, and you can’t even see it. Felicity, you could offer that woman the whole world and it wouldn’t make her stay. Finding some ex-boyfriend isn’t going to help.” My skin crawls. “And when she breaks your heart, because she will break your heart, I’ll be the one left picking up the pieces again.”
Ouch. “I didn’t realize I was such a burden to pick up.” I scoot back in my bed, my spine lining up with the headboard and my knees pulled tight to my chest.
“No, that’s not—” He yanks at his hair. “I hate what she does to you. She drags you around like a cat with a mouse, and you’re too good to even notice. You’re doing all this work, all this research to find a guy that, one, we don’t even know exists, and two, probably won’t even be enough to keep her here. Felicity, listen to me.” Knox dips his eyes so I have no choice but to look into them. Any and all warmth that was in them mere minutes ago has vanished. “If you, of all people, aren’t enough to keep her here, then nobody else will be either.”
That’s easy for him to say because he doesn’t get it; he never has. She loves me, she adores me. He just wants to see the negative, whereas I—
“I’m home!” Riley’s voice shouts as she rushes up the stairs. Knox and I both make no attempt to move. “I am so sorry, kiddo, my phone died, and then when I got to my car to charge it, Rowen lit a fire in me and—oh.”
Neither Knox or I look at my aunt in the doorway, both still somewhat tangled under blankets and inches apart with Scrabble tiles scattered around us. I know it can’t look good from her point of view, but I can’t find it in me to care right now.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until Knox’s gaze moves from my eyes down to my cheek as a single tear drop falls without my permission.
His straight face quickly curves into a smile—forced and unnatural—as he turns to Riley. “Glad you’re here. I think her fever broke, so she should be good now. I’m going to head back home so I don’t catch whatever this is.” He stands and slips his shoes on by the bed, pausing just before he leaves. “Have a good night.”
Riley and I both watch in silence as he stalks off, taking that tiny spark of an almost kiss with him.
Chapter Twenty-Six Flick
“Here, try this one.”
My nose furls at Lottie’s outfit choice. “You could literally see my nipples if I wore that.”
“Very fancy nipples, though.”
I point a finger to the rack she got it from. “Put. It. Back.”
Lottie groans. “You’re no fun.”
After catching Lot up on Cal asking me to a fancy donation dinner for an animal fund, she insisted we go to the closest mall—about forty-five minutes away—and find the best first-date dress we could. The words “first” and “date” in the same sentence without Knox being there feels a little wrong, like I’m missing one tiny screw to a dresser and therefore it will never fully shut just right, always catching on a corner or something.
Truth be told, while Knox was in my bed, and maybe because I was in my fever state, I was considering canceling the whole thing with Cal. He’s cute, sure, but I still don’t have that big ooey-gooey warmth in my stomach that says yes, this one is it.
But when I told Lottie about it all, minus Knox almost kissing me and saying the word “decadent,” she reassured me that the nerves were just classic first-real-date jitters and would go away by the time we went out. She’s the expert here; who am I to question?
We form a pile of about seven dresses on a rack for the sales lady, five of which are way above budget but she convinces me to try on anyway by saying, “Treat yourself,” for the hundredth time.
In the dressing room, I have to basically push her out from my side of the curtains so she will sit down. She’s been like a manic pixie running around this shop, grabbing the most extravagant dresses I’ve ever seen.
“Ugh,” I grunt and try to yank up the zipper currently resting on my lower back. “Come on.”
Lottie hums. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in and help?”
“No, Mom. I think I’ve got it.”
Once I pinch the material together across my back, the zipper slides right up, and I watch myself in the mirror. This one is a dark green, one-shoulder dress that dips a little low, but considering I have the chest of a thirteen-year-old, it’s not showing very much. It is tight across the middle and flares out at my waist.
I’ve tried on multiple, this being the fourth and favorite of mine.
When I step out of the curtains to show Lottie, I lift my hair off my shoulders and do a little spin and curtsy.
“Ohhh, that one.” She snaps her fingers like we’re at a poetry slam. “Yes, ma’am. That is it.”
“You said that about the last three.”
“Well, you look gorgeous in all of them, so you can’t go wrong. Though, personally, I think the light orange goes best with your skin tone.”
I glance down at the tight green dress I’m currently sporting. The orange was pretty, and I did like it with my skin tone. But dark green is Knox’s favorite color.
