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After all, he’s not the one who pushed me in the mud for touching his hockey stick.
“You good?”
I nod. “Stairs, the excitement of the game… it’s just a weight on my chest, is all. I’ll be fine.” But I’m not walking out of here without another reminder of why I can’t play hockey.
He eyes me. “Fancy a ride?”
“What sort of?—?”
He drops his bag and crouches, his back to me. “Hop on.”
If he insists…
I climb on, and he takes a minute to adjust his hold on my thighs, then retrieve his bag and stick. But he doesn’t jostle me, and instead picks up a jog to catch up with Knox and Beth.
“You’re insane,” I say in his ear. “Running?”
“It’s either that or—damn.”
Beth is climbing into the front seat.
Knox watches us, his brow furrowing. Miles drops me to my feet and circles around, tossing his bag in the trunk.
“Are we going to talk about this?” Knox asks me. “It’s been a week, Sunny. You don’t have time?—”
“I know,” I hiss. “I know I don’t. But I’m trying to decide if it’s just the insurance or something else in me that wants to say yes.”
He tilts his head, appraising me. Then twists his ball cap around, backward, and leans down. He kisses me before I can stop him or jerk away, and his lips remind me that I could say yes no matter the reason.
The car horn goes off.
I jump back, my face heating. “Well, right then.”
“Is that a yes?”
We stare at each other.
And I want to. I really, really want to.
So I say: “Yes.”
42
AURORA
Knox taps my thigh, drawing my attention to him.
I raise my eyebrows, because this isweird.
We’re at lunch with Miles, Willow, and the Whiteshaws. Knox’s parents are pretty much the same as I remember them. Warm and welcoming and smiling. His mom kisses both my cheeks when we arrive at the restaurant, and his dad hugs me tightly.
They’re as much family as my own parents. Moving away didn’t change that—although I could’ve been better about communication.
I try not to think about that now.
Willow and Miles are across from us, and I have to keep biting the inside of my cheek. Because she slept with him, right? She had him before I did.
Knox leans over, pressing his lips to my ear. His voice is barely audible as he whispers, “Jealousy is a good look on you, Mrs. Whiteshaw.”
