"Almost two years. My parents own real estate holdings in the area, and I hop from place to place while I flip and sell propertiesof my own." Knox said this so carelessly, like it wasn't incredible that he was amassing wealth like that.
"Oh," I breathed.
He glanced at me, and the light from his watch cast geometric shadows along the sharp planes of his face. "Are your parents nearby? You didn't mention them as a possibility to get you out of our… predicament."
I laughed hollowly. "No. My mom lives in Colorado, and my dad moved to Cincinnati when I was like twelve. My parents are still 'married,'" I made exaggerated air quotes, "because they refuse to admit anything is wrong. But they’re both kind of a mess, and I’d rather eat a bowl of toenails than move in with either of them."
"That is graphically disgusting.”
“Thank you,” I grinned.
Knox tilted his head back, taking in the blanket of bright stars. “Your parents sound like mine. My father travels the globe with the girlfriend de jour, and he runs their business remotely. My mother stays here and conquers the world one property at a time."
I nodded. "And she's kind of… bossy… I take it."
He gave me a hard look. "Bog witch made more sense."
“I have other ones. Sniveling Karen.”
“Crypt fungus,” he offered.
With a laugh in my voice, I added, “Diseased barnacle.”
“I’m taking notes for her eulogy,” Knox said seriously.
"I love that for us.” I gave him a hesitant smile. “Shared parent trauma."
"Your mom doesn't visit you?" Knox asked softly.
I wasn't sure where the "get to know you" inquisition was coming from, but it wasn't unwelcome. Ruth had been my bestie for years, and she knew absolutely everything about me. Emma did too. But sometimes it was nice to connect with new peoplein unique ways, sharing your story and seeing it reflected back to you in their singular reactions. "My mom isn't the supportive type. After her split with my dad, she tried to control me—if I messed up, I was hurting her. She kept telling me she loved me more than anything in the world, that she would die for me. But she neverlivedfor me. She didn't stop drinking for me. She didn't attend school plays for me. She didn't make time for me. She expected the world from me and gave me what was left of her trauma in return. Which wasn't much."
I didn't dare look at Knox, but he stopped walking. I stopped, too, and finally, I glanced at him. He lifted a hand, like he wanted to reach out and comfort me, and then he dropped it again. "I understand," he replied, his voice husky. "Unfortunately, I relate.”
I tried not to take it personally that he refused to touch me, but damn, did it feel wrong. I was sure he had a reason… but somehow, I assumed that sharing truths about our pasts might open that door, even a little. Apparently not. I shrugged even though I felt anything but nonchalant. "We get what we're given, I guess."
"Doesn't mean you didn't deserve more." Knox walked again, and Mini, who had paused, like she was listening to us, trotted over to a dying bush near the curb and squatted to pee.
I sniffed, wiping my nose. "I'm sorry your mom is a controlling asshole."
Knox laughed quietly at that. "I can handle my mother. I'll get us out of this."
"Sure, you will," I muttered, craning my neck to stare at the sky.
Suddenly, Knox's features blocked out my view, and his intense stare captured my attention instead. "Marry me, and it'll go faster."
Whoosh. All the oxygen left my lungs again. I squeaked out, "No thanks."
His lips lifted a fraction. "Worth a try."
"We aren't even friends," I pointed out. “What makes you think I would trust you enough to marry you, even as a ruse?”
"We can be friends," he said mildly. Mini was done, so we turned around and headed back.
"Bullshit," I challenged, squinting.
Knox lifted his long hands in surrender. "I'm friendly when I want to be."
"Prove it." My mouth had drifted into a smile, despite my insecurities.
