Page 29 of Keeping Knight

Closing my eyes, I let myself sink into a brief fantasy. In it, Micah is wearing only a pair of athletic shorts that drape over his muscled thighs and the not-insignificant bulge between them. His chest is bare and dappled with perspiration. He stands behind me, one big hand on my waist, the other, my shoulder. He turns me just so, and his body presses against mine, sending a shockwave of electricity surging through me.

As we practice, my desire for him builds. My pulse races. My skin tingles wherever he touches me. A relentless pressure builds at my core, and it’s a struggle to concentrate on anything besides what my body is begging for.

Then he turns me around to face him, and when I look into his eyes, they’re dark and hungry. He devours me with his gaze. Time seems to slow as his head dips and his lips move closer to mine. Then, in a breathless moment, he kisses me, and⁠—

My phone chimes, popping the little fantasy bubble I’m in. I’m annoyed for a second, but then I realize the text could be from Micah, either telling me he’s on his way home, or asking about something I put on the list. Either way, I’m glad to hear from him.

But when I flip the phone over to read the message, the text is neither of those things. Instead, it’s from Kylie.

Hey. How’s it going? You up for going out this weekend? I actually have it off for a change. And I feel like I haven’t seen you for ages.

I try to tamp down the spurt of disappointment that comes. I should be happy to hear from Kylie. She’s one of my closest friends, after all. It’s just… she’s not Micah. And he’s the one I want to talk to right now.

As I look at Kylie’s message, I try to decide how to respond. Obviously, I can’t go out with her this weekend. Even if, by some chance, my attacker is caught by then, I still have the issue of all the lovely bruises on my face and neck. Which, I suppose, I could cover with makeup, but…

But I’ve been thinking about spending the weekend with Micah. He already mentioned something about a movie and ordering from his favorite pizzeria—if your throat is up to it, he made sure to add—and playing some games together.

Anyway, I doubt I’ll be able to leave Micah’s condo by then, even if I wanted to. But I can’t explain all of that to Kylie. After talking with Micah and his friends, we decided it would be better to keep my friends in the dark for now. I’m sure Kylie, Jordan, and Grace had nothing to do with it, but not knowing who’s actually involved, it just seems safer all around not to tell them. I mean, I will eventually, when it’s all over. Just not now.

I didn’t tell Sylvia what happened, either. Though I really don’t think she had anything to do with it, the F&F guys still consider her a suspect. But they don’t know Sylvia. They don’t know that she’d rather die than chip a nail, and she arranges her entire schedule around her twice-weekly blowouts. They don’t understand how self-absorbed she is, and that hiring someone to kill me means she has to think about someone other than herself.

I still don’t know why my dad picked her to marry. Unless he was just lonely. I guess that could have been it—with me off living my own life, and he was cutting back on his hours at the hospital… It’s possible. And maybe it was easier to pick someone who was the complete opposite of my mom instead of someone who’d be a weak shadow of her.

I know he cared about Sylvia, though. Not like my mom—“She’ll always be my soulmate,” he confided a few weeks before the wedding, “but I care about Sylvia, too. And she makes me happy. At my age, that’s enough.”

While I’m contemplating, another message from Kylie comes in.

Or have you met someone? And that’s why I haven’t seen you?

Micah. I can tell Kylie about him. Not the whole saving me from a masked attacker, but the spending extra time with him.

A slightly giddy feeling comes over me as I type.

Sort of. I met him in my cooking class. Remember how I said I was partnering with the same guy every week?

Three dots blink briefly.

The Army guy?

I smile at the screen.

Yes. He’s been walking me home from class every week. But we’ve been spending time together outside of class, too. It’s still early. But I like him.

This time her response is almost immediate.

I knew it!

I can practically see Kylie pumping her arm and cheering. Laughing, I text her back.

You knew what?

On the screen, she starts and stops typing several times.

It was the way you talked about him. When we were having dinner, remember? And you said you were partnering with this nice guy in your cooking class. Even though you kept saying you weren’t interested in dating, your face was all lit up. I could tell you liked him more than you wanted to admit.

I lean against the headboard and stare at the painting.

That’s actually pretty insightful.