Broken Knight (All Saints High, #2)(48)

Knight never left Poppy’s side. He texted on his phone with a gloomy scowl. Every time he looked up and our eyes met, I turned around and struck up a conversation with Jefferson.

“So. You and Knight,” Jefferson said when we were closing up.

He picked up Goldie, a golden retriever pup, letting her lick every inch of his face. I laughed at Goldie’s eagerness.

“There’s no me and Knight.”

“You should tell that to his eyes. They’ve been putting extra time in on following you everywhere today.”

“He has a girlfriend.” I shrugged.

“Poppy deserves better.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I plucked Goldie from his embrace, rubbing my nose against her fur. Jefferson continued staring at me with an intensity I was too inexperienced to decode. He leaned forward so we were hunched together behind the register. He’d just opened his mouth when Knight appeared in front of us, rapping the counter with his knuckles.

“A word,” he hissed my way.

I tore my gaze from Jefferson, playing dumb.

“I don’t talk.”

“To me you do.”

“Think again.”

“Don’t make me embarrass you, Moonshine.” He smiled impatiently. “Because I will. And make a damn good show of it.”

“I hate you.”

“Good. It will make our conversation much easier, and we’ll be on the same page so you can return to Ken over here.”

“You’re a delight,” Jefferson observed.

Knight shot him one of his football-hero smirks that seemed to dismantle ticking bombs. “And you’re in my fucking way.” His gaze shot back to me. “Now.”

I knew Knight would make the rest of the evening hell for Jefferson, Poppy, and me if I didn’t oblige, and we still had to help clean up the place.

Reluctantly, I slid from behind the register and joined Knight outside on the sidewalk. Main Street was buzzing with shoppers, bright lights, and the dense scent of fresh winter air, cocoa, coffee, and baked goods. My mouth would’ve watered if I wasn’t so furious.

“What the hell was that?” I jerked my thumb behind us as Knight slacked against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

He looked worn out. Frustrated. Exhausted. If he was so distraught, why didn’t he break up with Poppy? Why did he keep this charade going?

“I can’t,” he said simply. “I can’t fucking look at you anymore. It’s wrong. I know. It’s hypocritical. Hell, I know that, too. You owe me nothing, but you slept with someone else, and it’s the only thing I can think about when I look at your face, no matter how much I want to see anything but that.”

He turned his body fully toward me, opening his eyes. I watched as they hardened as he arranged his indecipherable mask. The one I couldn’t get through, even before Josh.

“Screwing FUCKING JOSH. Kissing Vaughn. Flirting with Ken. You’ve really become quite a hussy, haven’t you, Luna?”

“Jealous?” I smiled sweetly, folding my arms over my chest.

Inside, I was fuming. How dare he. How dare he parade his gorgeous girlfriend around while giving me grief. How dare he belittle me. And how dare he slut-shame me when he was the very person who used to raise riots when people said words like slut and hussy around him.

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous? Guy’s a vegan. He probably doesn’t even have the energy to fuck you. Ken here is no competition for me, and we both know it.”

“Tell that to your girlfriend,” I murmured, and we twisted to watch Jefferson and Poppy through the display window of the shelter.

They were huddled in the corner of the room, Poppy showing him something on her phone. She laughed and swatted his chest. Once again, I realized I couldn’t dislike her, even if I tried. Her only sin was being interested in the same guy I was in love with.

Knight looked back at me, jutting his chin out.

“Nice comeback. You open that mouth for FUCKING JOSH, too?”

His words burned hot with lust; they were sweet poison, glossed over an apple I knew better than to bite.

He was picking a fight again. I locked my jaw and narrowed my eyes at him. He’d never been this cruel to me before. I got that he was hurt, but he had no right.

“Not to talk, of course. You’re too precious for talking, aren’t you, Luna? But maybe to suck his dick?” Knight cocked his head sideways, his eyes dead. “C’mon, Luna, is that what it is? You tasted dick and realized how good it is, and now you can’t get enough?”

I turned around and started for my bike, dashing down the road. He grabbed my arm and spun me around.

“Let go, or I’ll slap you again.”

“I’ll take your wrath over your indifference,” he deadpanned, unblinking.

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

“Would people stop saying that? There’s always a fucking choice.” He threw his head back, laughing manically.

“Are you drunk?” I scrunched my nose.

“No,” he shot automatically.

“You seem drunk.”

“What makes you say that?”

“When you’re drunk, you’re mean.”

He was spiraling again. And I was talking to him. Again. Because I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t know how to cut him out of my life, even when he cut me so deep.