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Now, my clothes are in Knox’s bedroom. There’s space in the closet for me, and my dresser was just hauled up and set next tohis. My office was boxed up and put into his spare room, creating some sort of disaster.
The pink typewriter survived, though.
So did my desk, locked drawers and all.
And apparently, I’m well on my way to a name change. That thought makes me slightly sick, too. Mom did it when she was younger than me. She and Dad got married young, after all. I didn’t talk to her about that. If she had help or if she figured out everything on her own.
“Is anyone there?”
Right. I made the phone call, now I need to live with the consequences. I can’t just stay silent. So I gather my courage and blurt out, “Why does your brother think we slept together?”
Silence.
Then, “Aurora?”
I exhale. “Yeah.”
“Why are you calling in the middle of the night?” Miles asks.
“I—” Shit. “Sorry. We were at some charity thing?—”
“We?”
“Knox and me.” I wince. “I’m sorry, this is coming out all wrong. And I’d start with pleasantries, but it’s late. Not really when you want to small talk, right? Jesus, I’m rambling. I’ve been around Knox for too long. Anyway. Can you just fill me in on why he thinks I slept with you, of all people?”
Miles Whiteshaw, Knox’s younger brother and one of the best damn goalies I’ve had the pleasure of practicing against, whistles. “You know, I don’t actually have a clue. He never said anything to me.”
“Because we didn’t.”
“Obviously.” His voice is dry. “Hang on a sec.”
There’s a voice in the background. Sleepy, melodic.
“Aurora McGovern?” a girl asks.
I find myself smiling. “Are you Willow?”
“Yeah.”
The one who Knox dated.My brother’s girl. I want to know more than just the surface-level story he told me. I’m sure there’s more there, more hurt buried between them. Knox can’t seem to go anywhere without hurting someone.
Usually it’s me, but sometimes it’s his brother, too.
“I’m sorry for whatever Knox put you through. He hasn’t said much, but… I’m sorry.”
Even though I don’t have the details, I feel in my bones that it’s the right thing to say. I don’t want to apologizeforhim, but I don’t want to be awkward. Or ignore it.
“Oh. Wow. Um, no, you don’t have to apologize for that. I just wanted to talk to you to see if you were okay.”
“Me? I’m fine.” It’s a lie. Will I ever stop lying?
“Knox is a lot,” she says. “And no offense for what I’m about to say, but he never mentioned you.”
“I was banished from being in his physical presence and his mind,” I joke. Eh, okay, maybe it’s more truth than jest. “Nothing new there. Anyway, I just wanted to confirm with Miles that I didn’t, uh…”
“Sleep with him.”
“Yeah. Wow, that sounds awful. I’m so sorry. Again.”
