Page 119 of The Silver Fox Brother

"The window seat," Winter says, leaning forward.

"It should be on the east wall. Morning light."

Knox shakes his head. "South wall makes more sense. Better view."

"Views aren't everything. It's about how the light feels when you wake up."

"You're wrong."

I sit back, eyebrows raised.

"I'm not wrong. It's literally my job to know these things."

"It's my building. I know every inch of it."

"So do I. I've measured that space six times."

"Then you measured wrong."

The challenge hangs between us, electric and charged.

"We can go look tomorrow," I say. "I'll show you."

Knox doesn't break eye contact. "We can go now."

"Now?" I glance at my watch. "It's almost ten."

"The site is five minutes from here. I have keys."

"You're serious."

"Why not?"

It's a dare. Wine and vulnerability and nearly two months of tension all compressed into two words. I should say no. Should suggest we table this discussion until tomorrow when we're both sober and thinking clearly.

"Fine," I say instead. "Let's go."

Knox signals the waiter for the check. The waiter brings it, Knox handles it without discussion, and within minutes we're standing outside the restaurant in the warm night air.

"This way," Knox says, and starts walking.

I follow behind him as he flags a taxi on the corner.

Knox opens the door and I slide into the backseat. He follows, and suddenly we're in close proximity, closer than we've been all evening. Both of us buzzed from wine, the air between us charged with something that's been building for weeks.

The five-minute ride feels longer.

Neither of us speaks. The silence is heavy, electric. Knox's thigh is nearly touching mine. I can feel the heat from his body, smell his cologne in the confined space. My breathing is shallow, my heart pounding harder than it should be for a simple taxi ride.

The taxi pulls up to the construction site. The street is dark and quiet, as most of the surrounding buildings are already closed for the night. Knox pays the driver and we get out. He unlocks the site entrance with a key card, and we step inside. The lobby is dim, lit only by emergency lights casting long shadows across the unfinished space.

Knox leads me to the construction elevator. We step inside, and he presses the button for the penthouse level. The elevator ascends in silence, the industrial rattle of the machinery the only sound. The tension is mounting with every floor we pass.

The elevator reaches the penthouse level and the doors open. The area is mostly dark except for emergency lights positioned at intervals along the perimeter. Knox walksto the electrical panel near the elevator and flips several switches. Work lights flood the space, illuminating the raw, unfinished bones of what will eventually be the most spectacular residence in the building.

I walk into the master suite, my footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. Knox follows.

"Here." I point to the east wall.