Broken Knight (All Saints High, #2)(47)

Knight’s saving grace was his eyes. Everything about him was perfect to the T, an all-American superhero who could slide comfortably into Chris Pine’s shoes and give him a run for his money. But his eyes were slightly different colors, one the shade of moss, the other more hazel. He was imperfect, but only if you looked really closely. Too closely for his comfort. Too close for him to ever allow. I could never fall in love with a hundred-percenter…but Knight was a solid 99.99%.

Jefferson, however, was three-figure perfect: thick, silken mane the color of sand and a jaw squarer than a Rubik’s Cube, a la Scott Eastwood. Since I was the reason he’d arrived, I was the first he reached out to for a handshake when Beth started with the introductions. I normally wasn’t hot on physical contact with people I didn’t know, but something about the situation pushed me into getting out of my comfort zone. Or rather, someone. Knight.

Jefferson gave me a gentle squeeze, peppering the gesture with a wide smile. He couldn’t be much older than twenty-two. I didn’t know why I was expecting someone older, considering his grams had mentioned he was still a student.

“Grandma Beth asked if I could save the day.” He grinned, his teeth sparkling like in a cartoon.

Typically, I wouldn’t answer him, in sign language or otherwise. But I could practically feel Knight’s gaze putting more layers of clothes on me to try to hide me away, one item at a time, as he tried to fence me back into being timid and shy. Not today, though.

“I appreciate it. You must be so busy.”

“Never too busy to be a beautiful girl’s knight in shining armor.”

I smirked. Interesting choice of words. Karma was definitely working extra hours today.

“She’s not a tortilla chip. No need to put so much cheese on it.” Knight tousled his own hair, his eyes drenched with disdain as he threw Jefferson a scowl.

Jefferson was still staring at me and shaking my hand, his chiseled face smiling radiantly at me.

“Actually, I’m vegan,” he deadpanned.

“I’m vegetarian.” My eyes bugged out.

Why was I surprised again? His grandparents ran a shelter. They were both vegetarian. Eugene and Beth looked between us, sharing a sly smile before they left to open the shelter doors to the general public.

“What are the odds?” Knight feigned interest. “I bet Harry Styles was both your favorite Fifth Harmony member.”

“Harry Styles was in One Direction,” Jefferson pointed out.

Knight spread his arms triumphantly. “Damn, son. You walked right into the trap. Not the kind of information that should occupy your brain cells.”

Again, Jefferson ignored him. Our palms were still clasped together, and I made no hurry to withdraw mine.

“I’m Poppy!” Knight’s girlfriend offered in her dangerously smooth British accent, thrusting her hand in Jefferson’s direction. He turned from me, his face opening up when he saw her.

“I adore your accent.”

“I adore your grandparents! I’ve been volunteering here for three months. Mainly over the weekends. Shame we never bumped into each other.”

She was overeager to sell him to me by pointing out how attractive he was.

“I usually volunteer on weekdays. I give the shelter dogs a live acoustic performance. It’s less dumb than it sounds, I promise.”

“Doubt it,” Knight grunted.

Poppy elbowed his ribs. Michael Jackson’s eating popcorn GIF played in my head. I stifled a smile. This was surprisingly entertaining.

“It doesn’t sound dumb at all. I wish you’d come on the weekends,” Poppy purred, her gaze slicing to me.

“Maybe I will.”

“I’m the boyfriend, by the way,” Knight cut through their flirtatious exchange, offering Jefferson his big hand.

Jefferson laughed and shook it. “No disrespect, man. I was actually baiting Luna.”

He turned back to me. “You come here on weekends?”

Knight’s jaw ticked.

“Used to. I go to Boon in North Carolina now.”

“Crying shame.”

“I still have winter break.”

Jefferson clutched his shirt where his heart was and threw his other fist in the air.

“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”

“You sure know your Martin Luther King, Jr., sir.” I grinned.

Knight rolled his eyes. “Real subtle, bro.”

Poppy poked her lower lip out, looking between us peculiarly. Of course she was happy if Jefferson and I rode off into the sunset together; then she could have Knight all to herself. Little did she know, I had no intention of spending time with her boyfriend this winter. Our last encounter in the treehouse had been a bid to keep the boat from flipping over, but Knight and I were both smart enough to know we were still on troubled water.

Half an hour later, the place was jam-packed with families and couples, crouching and cooing over crates. I had no time to think about Knight, Poppy, or even Val. Jefferson shadowed my every move, acting as my voice.

Three hours into the event, we had already managed to send twelve dogs home with their new families. I peeked at Beth and Eugene, who were laughing with their friends in the corner of the room. They looked relaxed and happy. Between Poppy and the other volunteers, we had it on lock.