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“Oh, fuck, okay. Look, you know you’ve got a huge dick. Obviously, it’s big enough to satisfy me, bloody hell. I was just making a comment earlier.”
He grinned at my words, and butterflies came to life inside me. I tried to tamp down these unwanted feelings, but I knew it was too late. Picking up my champagne flute, I gulped it down viciously, draining the rest of the glass.
I went to open the new bottle, but Knox stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Let me. I doubt you know the correct way to open a bottle of champagne, do you?”
I couldn’t have stopped my eye roll if I’d tried. Who cared how it was opened?
“Go on, then. Impress me with your rich-boy moves.” I sat back, folding my arms across my body, underneath my boobs. Knox’s gaze slid from the bottle to my breasts, and he licked his lips. My nipples pebbled under his stare. What were we doing here? I needed to get us back on track. “Knox? Are you going to open it?”
He blinked slowly, and then he cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from me. “Yeah.” His fingers worked the twisty metal bit off the top of the cork, and then he grasped the cork with one hand and the bottle with the other. “Twist the bottle, not the cork.”
“That’s it? I thought it would be more impressive than that.”
“You wanna see impressive?” He placed the bottle down and then pulled out his phone, tapping at the screen with his brows pulled together in concentration. When he stopped tapping, he handed it to me. “Watch this.”
I watched as a video started playing. A hot blond guy appeared on the screen, surrounded by cheering people, holding up a bottle of champagne. “Is that a sword?” I heard someone screech close to the phone speaker as the guy pulled what looked like a katana from the wall. He placed the bottle on the mantelpiece and then whistled loudly to get everyone’s attention. Then he suddenly swung the katana at the bottle, slicing the top off like it was nothing.
“Okay, I’m impressed. Who is that?”
Knox shrugged. “Fuck knows. Roman sent it to me ages ago. One of his cousins sent it to him—think it’s one of their friends.” He frowned down at the screen, then scrolled the video back a bit, watching intently. He tapped his finger on the corner of the screen. “Yeah. That’s Roman’s cousin there. Weston.”
And now I had my first question—a nice, easy one to hopefully get him to drop his guard. Handing his phone back to him, I refilled my glass. “My first question. How long have you known Roman?”
“You really want to waste your first question on that?” He raised a brow as he took a swig from his flask. When he lowered it, he shrugged again. “He’s one of my best mates. We knew each other as little kids, but he moved around a lot, so we lost touch for a while, other than sporadic texts. But when he came back to Hatherley Hall, we continued where we left off. It’s easy. Him and Tristan…they’re my closest friends.”
As he spoke, I realised that we’d somehow ended up in a fairly civil conversation. It was bizarre, and I had no idea how it had happened.
“My turn. Tell me about your friends. Who are they?”
We were starting to edge into dangerous territory already. I stalled for a moment, thinking about whether I should answer. If I didn’t, he’d get suspicious. “I guess…I lost touch with people when we came to Nottswood, so there’s no one I’m close to. Katy and Will have become my friends here…” Trailing off, I realised how pathetic that sounded. It was, in fact, the truth because although I’d thought I had plenty of friends in my previous life, the last year had shown me that those friendships were fickle at best. No one had made the effort to stay in touch with me. Not that I had either. I was too busy trying to navigate the world I’d been thrown into, to keep my head above water, to survive.
“That’s fucking pathetic.” His lip curled, and I was reminded all over again why I hated him.
Sipping from my glass, I savoured the feel of the chilled, bubbling liquid sliding down my throat rather than focusing on the hurt that went through me at his words. When I was composed enough to speak without snapping at him, I asked, “What do you want to do when you finish school? After university?”
Leaning his head back against the wall, he stared up at the night sky. He sighed. “I’m planning on becoming a criminal defence lawyer. Barrister. My dad…he’s one of the best in the whole country, and if I can be half as good as him, I think I’ll be happy.”
I bit down hard on my lip to stop myself from saying anything I’d regret.
“What?” Knox shot me a dark look. “Stop fucking judging. What are your plans, anyway? I bet you haven’t even applied to uni.”
“No, I haven’t. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” The truth was, I’d probably end up working out of necessity as soon as I’d finished school. University wasn’t for people like me.
He didn’t comment, returning his gaze to the stars as he drank from his flask. Studying his profile, I let the words fall from my mouth. “There was a text from an unknown number on my phone, saying that they knew my secret. Was it you?”
His eyes snapped to mine, cold and hard. Then he ground out, “Pass,” and drained the contents of his flask.
It was as good as an admission of guilt.
When he slammed the flask down on the table with a loud clang, he leaned right into my space. “What were you doing with that man the day my dad found you?”
I sucked in a shaky breath, and then I picked up my glass, bringing it to my lips.
“Pass.”
24
KNOX
