by Shen, L. J.
I was fucking done.
I examined my bloodshot eyes in the mirror of my bathroom, applying another layer of scarlet-hued gloss on my lips.
Guess that’s what three days without sleep would do to you: red-rimmed eyes and a lip color to match. But I couldn’t get through to Knight, no matter how hard I tried. I’d waited for him outside his door every morning. He’d breezed past me, usually with his phone glued to his ear, ignoring my existence all the way to his Aston Martin. I’d nearly fallen, trying to climb up to his window again, only to find it secured and locked. I’d waited for him in his gym’s reception area, pretending to be reading a brochure about hot yoga classes, only to have security personnel sent to tell me that a gentleman had requested I leave the premises so he could walk back to his car.
Knight treated me like a common stalker. And, if I were being honest with myself, I wasn’t exactly not one. I just needed him to hear me out.
Now, we were about to go to the Spencers’ for our annual Thanksgiving dinner, and we were going to share a table, and a meal, and a space, whether he liked it or not. I was going to sit across from, or next to him, and I didn’t know if I was elated to finally get to see his face, or terrified of seeing what was on it.
I tapped the rich, crème ceramic of the sink, shifting from foot to foot on the checked black and white marble of our heated floors, ignoring the messages popping on my phone, which was propped on the edge of the counter.
Josh: Everything okay?
Josh: You’re probably busy. Just tell me you’re good when you have time? ☺
“Baby, we don’t want to be late. Are you finishing up?” Dad called from downstairs.
Racer simultaneously knocked on the bathroom door, shouting, “Luna, Luna, Lunatic! Come on!”
“Don’t call your sister that, you little rascal,” Edie chided from downstairs.
She was so PC about my selective muteness, even though sometimes, when we were all alone, I’d actually answer her words. Mainly yes and no. I didn’t know why I felt so comfortable around Edie. A part of me thought she loved me extra hard, because she knew my own mother didn’t.
I tried wiping the redness from my eyes to no avail and opened the door, grabbing my baby brother by the collar and jerking him into a hug. I wore a lavender wrap dress with ruffled edges I’d borrowed from Edie. I hated dresses. There was nothing I liked more than blending in with the furniture and making myself invisible. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and I’d stooped so low as to wear a revealing, tight dress that might make Knight look at me with something that wasn’t sheer hatred and revulsion.
Fine. I was a sellout.
A sellout who needed a way to reach her best friend.
“Wow, Lunatic. You’re really pretty.” Racer squeezed my waist, looking up to scrutinize my face with his big, cobalt eyes.
I took his hand, and we descended the stairs. When Dad and Edie saw me, their eyes flared, but they didn’t comment about the makeup or the dress. They’d gotten tired of asking what was wrong with me and why I wasn’t hanging out with Knight and Vaughn.
Shoot. Vaughn. I hadn’t even considered him as a complication. Had Knight told him about Josh and me? My gut feeling said no, because Knight was overprotective of me. Then again, judging by his behavior the last few days, a reconciliation wasn’t in our cards. One thing was for sure—if Vaughn knew, I would find out tonight. He wasn’t known for his diplomatic skills.
“Beautiful.” Dad kissed my temple, and I relished the tenderness in his voice.
When he let go of me, Edie was there to catch me in an extra-tight hug.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m here.” She clutched me to her chest, whispering in my ear, “I will always be here. I love you.”
We got to the Spencers’ carrying three different casserole dishes, five bottles of wine, and a dessert Dad had ordered especially from Los Angeles. Some fancy hot cakes with ice cream inside them that needed to be consumed at room temperature. Such were the Thanksgiving feasts my parents and their friends hosted—lavish, over-the-top, and picture-perfect.
I was the only imperfect thing about the picture, including the perfect house, perfect meal, and perfect people surrounding me.
Hugs and pleasant small talk ensued the moment we walked through the Spencer family’s door.
Jaime and Melody Followhill were already there with their daughters, Bailey and Daria. Daria’s fiancé, Penn, and his sister, Via, were also there. They were like foster children to the Followhills, which I guess made Daria and Penn’s love affair a little forbidden, but I didn’t judge them. I’d always thought my being with Knight would be weirder. Because we had actually grown up together. I’d seen him in diapers. He’d watched me studying the back of a sanitary pads box for the instructions with horror in my eyes, and had even tried to have a go at how to do it before we’d both toppled over, laughing.
Baron and Emilia Spencer looked Oscar-ready with his second-skin style suit and her pumpkin-hued orange dress—floor length and bare-shouldered. Vaughn, who took pleasure in looking like a hobo, awarded me with half a distant, yet conspiring smile, which meant he definitely wasn’t privy to whatever was going on between Knight and me.
A trickle of hope slithered its way to my gut. If Vaughn didn’t know, that meant my relationship with Knight was salvageable, right? Knight hadn’t said anything that’d make Vaughn see me in a negative light.
He still protected me.
I didn’t even know what my goal was. Up until three days ago, I’d been keen to give this thing with Knight a chance. Then for twenty-four hours or so, I’d been planning a future with Josh—whose messages I’d been dodging the past three days, too hysterical to pay him attention. And all of a sudden my only wish was…what? To get Knight back? He was never mine to begin with. To beg for his forgiveness? He was the one who’d pointed out we were free to mess around with anyone we wanted. Yet I was expected to explain myself. I’d even felt guilty. But now, as I stood here, waiting for my verdict, I wasn’t exactly sure why I had ever agreed to go to trial.
Knight slept with girls. All the time. He flirted and dated and locked them in Vaughn’s media room and did unthinkable things to them behind the dark, wooden doors. He crawled into my bed with their sweet, flowery, needy scents all over him.
Why was I being so apologetic and remorseful? Why would I mess this thing up with Josh to try to soothe Knight’s wounded ego? Why had I let him hinder the entire progress I’d made these past four months, just because he wasn’t comfortable with my new life?
The only thing I was at fault for was slapping him, and that was months ago. But I shouldn’t have done that, and he deserved an apology. But that was the extent of it.
Getting kicked out of gyms, nearly falling off window ledges—why was I indulging his vindictiveness?
Suddenly, my blood simmered with heat. All this time, I’d been trying to apologize for something Knight shoved in my face on a daily basis when we’d lived close to each other.
I excused myself from the adults’ company, waltzing into the Spencers’ kitchen and helping myself to a glass of spicy red port specially prepared by their Portuguese vintner, because of course, when you were a Spencer, having your own vintner was a thing.
I caught Daria—blonde, tall, and too Gigi Hadid to look real—and Penn, who basically looked like Leonardo DiCaprio circa 1996, making out against the kitchen counter and pretended not to notice their picture-ready existence. The doorbell chimed behind us, and they disconnected on a grunt, panting hard and smiling at each other.
I wanted to throw up into my port. Not because I didn’t like them—I did, I loved them, they were a part of my family—but because I knew what, and who, was coming through that door.
“It’s Knight! I’ve been dying to catch up with him.” Daria clapped excitedly, leaving Penn and me in the kitchen together without even sparing me a hello.
We nodded at each other. He leaned against the kit
chen counter, jerking his chin my way.
“How’s college?”
I smiled, pointing at him.
He shrugged. “I’m happy wherever she is.” His eyes drifted to the space Daria had occupied a second ago.
That sounded like something Josh would say. Suddenly, I missed Josh. Josh, whose only sin was to be the cause of my rift with Knight.
I unlocked my phone and sent him a quick message, in answer to the ones he’d been bombarding me with.
Luna: Everything is great. Sorry I’ve been silent—a lot has been going on, but it’s okay now. We’re just starting dinner. I miss you, too, and I really can’t wait to get back to Boon. x
When I looked up, the kitchen was suddenly full of people, including Knight, his mother (Rosie), his dad (Dean), and his little brother (Lev). Lev and Racer sneaked together to the great room with Bailey on their heels.
Rosie squeezed me into her wheezing chest and kissed the crown of my head. Dean narrowed his eyes at me playfully, ruffling the hair I’d tried to straighten for the past couple hours.
“Having fun at Boon, Lu?”
I circled my index and thumb in an OK.
“Good, good.”
When it was Knight’s turn to acknowledge me, and all eyes were on us, he tilted his chin up in hello. He didn’t take a second look at my dress, or my made-up face, or my dolled-up hair. Just gave me a nonchalant wink and moved to the port, helping himself to a generous glass. The blush on his cheeks indicated he’d already slipped a shot or four before they’d arrived. He wore a white V-neck shirt, a navy blue blazer, and camel-hued skinny jeans, his hair a delicious, unkempt mess. He was thumbing his phone, not really paying attention to anyone, uncharacteristically distant.
Vaughn, who now stood next to me, looked between us and cleared his throat, silently asking what the hell was going on. Knight scratched his eyebrow, tossing his phone in the air and catching it with precise speed and accuracy.
“Anything to share?” Vaughn grumbled.
Knight threw his entire drink down his throat when our parents weren’t looking, clucking his tongue with a devilish smirk. “Sorry, not into sharing. You never know where shit’s been, you know?”
Vaughn whistled low, looking between us. “And so, the little innocent creature has fangs. The plot thickens.”
I swallowed.
Knight grinned. “Someone’s thick here, all right, but it’s got nothing to do with the plot.”
“You’re butthurt,” Vaughn mused.
“Nah. The only butts in danger of hurting are the ones I’ll be plowing into when we go to Arabella’s party after this boring dinner.” Knight spat out the word boring like I was the one who made it so.
I could feel my anger climbing up my toes, making every cell in my body burn. Arabella? What about Poppy? I wanted to yell my lungs out, but settled for flashing the boys a dazzling, I-don’t-give-a-damn smile, not wanting to cause a scene.
My fury reached another peak when we’d sat at the long dinner table, with brown, hand-decorated china, personal pumpkins painted by Lev and Bailey, yellow candles and handmade napkins sewn with real threads of gold. Everybody was chatting, laughing, and drinking warm cider and wine, enjoying their butter-roasted turkey. Knight sat next to me, probably because he knew he’d be bombarded with concerned questions if he didn’t, and continued texting under the table, taking no part in the conversation.
“Put the phone down, son,” Dean said at one point, and Knight didn’t even look up from the screen.
Dean put his glass of water on the table—he never drank alcohol—and looked directly at Knight with the familiar intensity of a man who could set the sky ablaze.
“Honey,” Rosie tried, dabbing a napkin at the sides of her mouth.
This time, Knight did look up, tucking his phone in his front pocket. It was one of the things I loved about Knight the most. He was respectful and loving to his mother.
“Sorry, Ma.”
“Sorry sounds right,” Dean muttered into his forkful of white asparagus.
“I agree. Sounds are awesome. I love sounds.” Knight threw his arms in the air, digging into his food all of a sudden like he’d been starving for days. I shrank into my seat next to him, staring at my meal like it was going to help me if I begged it hard enough with my eyes. I had a lot to say to Knight, but I couldn’t do it at the table.
“Do you have anything to say?” Edie, with her no-bullshit approach, speared Knight with a look, her utensils clattering to her plate.
“Plenty, Mrs. Rexroth. I have plenty of things to say,” he chirped.
I knew, even though he could hide the signs from others, he was drunk. Again. Knight had always been careful with alcohol, at least up until Vaughn’s party, so this was alarming.
Then again, I hadn’t been here for a few months. Maybe this was his new normal?
“You’re walking on thin ice,” Dean warned in front of all of us, which I knew would only push Knight over the edge. He was a carbon copy of his father. When pushed, he pressed harder.
Knight smiled, tossing a piece of roasted yam into his mouth and chewing. “I’ve been good at breaking things lately. One more layer isn’t going to make any difference.”
“Okay, now,” Emilia’s voice rang out over what was beginning to sound a lot like a fight between Knight and everyone else at the table. “Change of subject. Are you guys going to do something interesting before Luna goes back to college?” She looked between me, Knight, and Vaughn.
I wanted to die right there and then. Emilia obviously hadn’t paid attention to the general mood. Knight snorted out a laugh and shook his head. Frowning, I turned around to face him. I was reaching my tipping point, but I really, really, really didn’t want to ruin it for everyone else.
He surprised me by looking directly at me for the first time in four days.
My eyes told him to shut up.
Honestly? My mouth almost did, too.
“Oh, look. Luna’s puppy eyes. My favorite guilt trip.” He smirked, turning around and addressing the entire table. “To your question, Aunt Emilia, I’m not sure if I’m going to do something nice before Luna’s departure, but I sure as hell know Luna did something nice this past weekend. So nice, in fact, that her partner thanked her for the precious gift. She’s always been charitable, this one.”
I choked on my water, trying to cough out the liquid that slipped through the wrong pipe.
Now all the utensils at the table dropped in unison. Someone gasped. A chair scraped back, and I realized it was my father who’d stood up. Edie shot up right after him, clutching his shoulder in warning.
Baron Spencer leaned back in his seat at the head of the table. “Boy. Excuse yourself right now before your stupid jeans aren’t the only thing that’s distressed about you.”
“Happily, Uncle Vicious.” Knight smiled, throwing his uncle’s dodgy reputation back at them before standing up and strolling toward the stairs.
My father made a move to follow Knight at the same time Dean did, but my legs willed themselves to push me up and raise my open palm in warning. I needed to speak to him. Alone.
“I’m going to kill him,” Dad hissed, his voice so full of power and disdain, I wondered what kind of man he’d been when he was Knight’s age.
It hurt that I couldn’t even look him in the eye when he said that, because all I could think of was that he knew I’d had sex.
“Be my guest,” I mouthed. “But first, let me deal with him.”
I stalked up toward Knight, trying to digest what had happened at the table. He’d basically told our entire extended circle that I’d slept with someone. He’d ratted me out. I moved up the stairs and through the door of the media room, which he’d left open, knowing I was following him.
He laughed bitterly, walking over to the bar by the window and plucking a bottle of water from a mini fridge. I caught him before he had the chance to unscrew the cap, spinning him in place by his shoulder so he faced me. I started sign
ing to him with my hands, but he captured both my wrists, shocking me as he backed me against the wall until my spine hit it lightly, his eyes completely dead.
I was barely able to hold in my gasp. Knight had never touched me in a way that wasn’t warm, fuzzy, and fully consensual. His smile told me he’d figured my mind couldn’t wrap around this new way of touching, and we were now playing by different rules. His eyes were as red as mine—he obviously hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep, either—but it was everything else about him I couldn’t read. I realized it didn’t matter if it was fair or not; Knight wasn’t faking the pain. He was devastated, and I couldn’t deny his feelings, no matter how hypocritical it was of him to act on them.
The heart doesn’t ask for permission to feel things. It simply feels.
“Now, now, Moonshine. You’re not like your little boyfriend, Josh Cooper. You have vocal cords, and if you’re too pussy to use them, you obviously don’t want to patch shit up badly enough.”
Josh Cooper. He knew Josh’s last name. How had he found out? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that my hands were still clasped in his fists, and I was trying to wiggle them free, feeling my heart pounding so hard I thought it was going to escape my chest. He taunted me. Challenged me. He never had before.
Tears made my eyes sting, but I dared not let them fall. I heard people arguing behind the closed doors of the room. His fingers tightened around my flesh.
“Leave us the fuck alone,” Knight yelled at the door, still staring at me.
I heard some more arguing, then Vaughn opened the door and peeked inside. He looked directly at me, with a nonchalance that implied he’d come to ask what would be our favorable dessert.
When he saw the scene playing before him, he grinned. “Finally, some tough love.”
“Shut up,” Knight snapped.
“Loon, they want to know you’re okay,” Vaughn said flatly.
I nodded. I didn’t know why I nodded. I wasn’t okay. Far from it. But I was going to see this thing through with Knight, no matter the outcome.