Page 39 of The Quiet After The Fall

That gets him to crack his almost smile again. He holds up both hands. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” He leans against his Jeep, settling in like he has nowhere else to be. “I’ll just stand here and watch.”

“That’s also not an option.”

“Sure it is.”

I turn back around. Fine. If he wants to watch me clean up a stranger’s vomit in a parking lot, that’s his problem. I’ve stopped being embarrassed in front of Knox. After everything we’ve been through, this is the least of my concerns.

We stay like that for a few minutes. Me working, him watching, the distant sound of bad DJ music leaking out from inside the hotel.

His feet shuffle and he clears his throat. There goes my peace.

“So last night…”

“Not right now,” I say. “I’m at work.”

“We need to talk.”

“No.”

“I’m going to keep trying until you turn around and look at me.”

“Then get comfortable.”

He’s quiet while I switch from the push broom to the mop. I reach for the cleaning solution and dump it into the water.

“You look good today,” he says. “I like professional Sawyer, behind the desk in your skirt and blazer.”

I hate that my cheeks flush. “That’s not misogynistic at all.”

“Strangers probably look at you and think you’re a satisfied employee.”

I refuse to look at him, even though the pull is strong. “Because I am.”

“Are you? Not convincing me, Thorne. I know better.”

I stop but still don’t face him. “What do you want, Knox?”

“I want you to look at me.”

“I’m busy.”

“Sawyer, come on.”

“I have a headache and a parking lot to clean and I would very much like you to fuck off.”

He steps closer and my pulse speeds up. “I don’t believe you.”

I can’t help but turn around now. He’s closer than I expected, and I have to take a step back to feel like I have room to breathe.

“You should,” I say.

“I don’t.” His eyes move over my face, reading me the way he always does, like I’m a page he already knows the words to. “Don’t you want to know what Moretti said last night?”

My stomach tightens. “No.”