Reese
"You really should live a little, Cameron."
I look up from my lunch container. “It’s lunch, Knox, not an extreme sport.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t have some variety, spice things up a bit. Don't you ever get tired of eating the same thing?"
"It's fruit salad.” With my fork, I point to the contents of my container. “It's healthy. And I don’t have it every day.”
When Knox asked me whether I wanted to get lunch at the café down the road from the paper so we could keep working while we ate, I agreed, but I’m quickly regretting my decision.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve had fruit salad every day.”
Putting my fork down, I remind him, “Yesterday, I had muesli and yoghurt. And the day before that, I had a walnut salad.”
“Semantics,” Knox says. “It’s always healthy.”
“So?”
“Healthy is boring.”
“Healthy equals a longer life.”
“Not necessarily.”
Knox leans back in his seat, stretching out his long legs in front of him. His hair is slightly shorter than it was when he first came back to town, and he’s clean shaven today. He left his suit jacket back at the office because it’s warm out, and with the arms of his black shirt rolled up, showing off his strong forearms, he looks more casual than usual. The ladies sitting at the table next to us keep looking over to check out Knox, probably hoping he might notice them back and ask them out. So far, his attention has stayed on me, but any moment I’m sure he’ll see them and flirt a little. Knox manages to pull off an odd combination of gorgeous and approachable.
“You could eat vegetables every day, never drink or smoke, and still walk into a bus one day. Then, poof.” His hand gestures simulate my body and head being separated. At least, that’s what I think he’s trying to say. “You’re dead.”
I snort. “Thanks for that visual of my decapitation.”
Knox’s grin is annoyingly contagious. “I’m merely trying to make you see you’re missing out by walking the straight and narrow all the time. Take these hot chips-”
“That are full of fat and cholesterol and-”
“Are about the best tasting vegetable you’ll ever eat.”
“I’m not sure they qualify as a vegetable.”
“Is potato not a vegetable anymore? Did I miss that headline?” Knox’s mouth drops open in mock-horror. “C’mon Reese, take a walk on the wild side. I bet you that these are the best chips you've ever tasted.”
Shaking my head at his willingness to use a bet to coax me, I ask, "And if you're wrong?"
"You can drive to the retreat tomorrow."
"I was planning on it anyway." I fork a piece of watermelon into my mouth.
"You're planning on driving to our marriage retreat without me?"
"I'll pick you up." I smirk back at him. “Maybe.”
He dips his chin in acknowledgement, then he motions to his plate. "Why don’t we let the chips decide. If you say you’ve had better, you drive. But if these are the best you’ve ever had, I drive."
“Whatever. Fine.”
Knox’s satisfied grin makes my stomach flip and my heart speed up, immediately making me regret my decision. It’s not as if I wanted to give in, but had I resisted, we would have been at the café for the rest of the afternoon while Knox tried to convince me.
I take a chip off his plate now and put it in my mouth, the hot fluffy potato dissolving on my tongue almost immediately, making me want another one straight away.
"There. Wasn't that amazing?" he asks.
I nod, finishing off the last of the chip. "It was pretty good."
"See? I told you."
"But I've had better."
I can’t help but smile when I see his mock-shattered expression.
"Impossible. You clearly didn’t taste it right."
The absurdity of his statement wrenches a giggle from me, my stomach flipping when his mouth kicks up at the corner. Despite our history, it’s just too easy to be around the man. Too easy to revert to the way things used to be between us before Knox decided I was a snob unworthy of his time. Just like when we were friends, we eat lunch together every day, and Knox constantly makes up silly bets that make me smile. Frustratingly, I can’t help getting caught up in the challenges he presents me with and bantering with him.
But it’s not just our bets and our lunches that remind me of our past. Knox is so smart and knowledgeable about all the things that interest me, and it’s so easy to talk to him. He always takes my feelings and opinions to heart whenever I say anything. When we had dinner together two weeks back, I blurted out all this stuff about my relationship with Max because it felt like the most natural thing in the world to tell him.
It’s as if Knox is trying his darndest to pull me back to the time we were friends, but I’m unsure why he would want that when he still believes my family and I are snobs. Because I don’t know what it was about me years ago that triggered his judgements and hate, it would be crazy to risk it happening all over again. So, no matter how much it seems like Knox wants to be friends, it’s safer to keep my distance from the man. Safer to tell myself the time we spend together is a necessity for the story we’re working on.
Grinning wickedly, Knox picks up another fry and holds it out for me to eat, clearly not done with this bet yet.
"Knox…"
"Come on, Cameron.” He waggles his eyebrows. “One more."
The dare in his eyes combined with his smug smile compels me to lean forward and eat the chip right out of his hand. He watches me intensely as he feeds me, as though he’ll be able to tell if I’m lying if he watches me closely enough. The chip really is very, very good, and when I get to the end, instinct takes over and I let my tongue slide over his thumb, licking the salt from his skin before I can think better of it. The low, barely audible moan he makes in response goes straight through me, sending a sudden rush of wet heat to my core. His eyes are as dark as a moonless night when I meet them, and fire licks up my cheeks and the rest of my body in response.
Damn it all to hell, the man still turns me on.
Shame and guilt force me to look away from my old rival. I could only imagine what Max would say if he were here. He’d be furious, and rightly so. To say he wasn’t happy with the idea of Knox and I going to the retreat is an understatement. I’ve talked to him about Von Gruber, so he’s aware of the therapist’s penchant for mind manipulation. The idea of me being under any influence around Knox is not something he’s comfortable with. And while I would never let his concerns stop me from doing my job, and I would never admit this to Max, I’m worried too.
The deep-dive Knox and I did into hypnosis didn’t turn up much we weren't already aware of. The evidence suggests one must be susceptible to hypnosis for it to work effectively, or not opposed to the suggestions made. Thus, being attracted to Knox presents a massive problem. How can I resist any commands or suggestions given if part of me wants to act on them? Knox is already doing a fine job of worming his way through any of the defences I’ve erected between us, so the thought that Von Gruber could further lower or eliminate my inhibitions around Knox makes me want to puke.
"Good?" Knox asks, his voice rough and low.
My heartbeat pulses between my legs and I don’t trust myself to speak, so I nod and pray that the tension and sudden awareness between Knox and me magically dissipates and stops making it so difficult to breathe.
The sudden jangle of the bell over the door provides an excuse to focus somewhere else. I nearly sigh in relief when I see my co-worker Melody Murphy walk into the café. She looks around the crowded shop and waves when she sees us. Instead of lining up for lunch, like I expect her to, she skips over to us.
"Guess what?” she squeals. “Bob finally gave in and said I can write a local interest story."
"That's fantastic, Melody. Congrats." Melody has wanted to move away from the gossip column Bob assigned her for six months now, so this is big news for her.
“Thanks, Reese.”
Knox has dropped the intense and hot expression he was sporting a moment ago and is now smiling politely at Melody. "What are you going to write about?"
Melody beams at him, pulling out the chair between Knox and I, and plonking her butt down on it. “Your presence here in Magpie Grove has inspired me. I want to write about the Magpie Grove reunion and the class from a decade ago, I’ll be covering all the big events of that class, including graduation and prom. It's just a fluff piece, but I’m so excited!"
“Wow, sounds great.”
Knox is tense when I look at him, worry turning down the corner of his mouth as we lock eyes. My stomach sinks, but I don’t understand why. This is exactly what I need. Melody’s presence and choice of story is a timely reminder of the last time I let my walls down with Knox. Eating the chip out of his hand was insanity. Now the memory of the way his skin tasted and the way his eyes darkened will haunt my dreams.
“I was hoping to get started straight away.” Melody swivels her gaze between me and Knox. “You don’t mind if I interview the two of you together, do you? You were the same graduating year, right?”
I shift in my seat, looking towards the exit, planning my escape. “Yes.”
“Well, I want to hear all about your experiences, and I thought we could start with something fun, like your prom. Did you both go?”
As much as I appreciate Melody’s presence and the timely reminder of how much my senior year sucked because of Knox, I don’t want to sit here and talk about that night. Not with my hands clammy, and my heart racing from fear I might accidentally slip and give away how I felt about Knox back then. Melody might not be the most experienced reporter, but she’s intuitive and interested – a dangerous combination.
Checking my watch, I make a small clucking noise and look back at Melody as I stand up. “I should get back to work, Mel, I promised Bob that I’d email him this afternoon. But I’m sure Knox will be happy to answer your questions. After all, Knox won Prom King that year. He'd be a much better person to talk to than me."
"Really?” Melody squeaks. “Oh, that’s perfect, but please don’t go yet, Reese. I want to get your perspective, too. You did go as well, right?”
“I did.”
“Then please could you stay and answer a few questions. Please! I’ll make them really quick. I’m just dying to get started.”
My smile feels brittle. Melody is so excited and saying no outright would upset the younger girl. It would be like kicking a puppy.
Reluctantly, I sit back in my chair and sigh. “What do you want to know?”
“Who did you go with? I bet he was nice, and totally hot. Was he hot?"
I try not to look at Knox as I tell Melody in the briefest way possible about my "date" for the night.
"The guy I went with took me as a joke, actually," I say. "He dumped me on the steps of the gym and went in with someone else."
Melody's look of horror is almost enough to drag a laugh from me. "That's awful, Reese. Isn't that awful, Knox? Who would do such a thing?"
"A first-class jerk," Knox answers.
The tension in the air is so thick that I’m worried Melody will realise I’m talking about Knox, or worse, ask him if he knows who it was.
"You have to tell me more," Melody says. "Care to shame anyone by name?"
I shake my head. I don’t want the office knowing Knox and I had some stupid past.
"Why?" Melody asks. “Why did he do that to you?”
Putting the lid back on my lunch container, I shrug. "He thought I was a snob and a stuck-up bitch."
"But…that’s awful, and so far from the truth. Why would he think that?"
“Honestly, I have no idea." Without permission, my eyes dart to Knox’s. Regret and shame shadow his features, and I turn away, my heart aching over a past I still really don’t understand. “I thought we were friends once and that was why he invited me. Instead, he wanted to punish me for being a horrible person in his opinion. It was his way of taking me down a peg.”
Melody’s expression changes from one of anger to one of sorrow. "God, if it had been me, I would have cried all night. Did you cry all night?"
"Nope."
I held the tears in as best I could. He didn’t deserve my tears, yet I do remember crying myself to sleep later that night.
"What did you do? What happened?"
"I went to Prom anyway."
Melody grins. "You triumphed."
"I wouldn't go that far.” Pushing my chair back, I stand up once more. “Anyway, I can answer some more questions later, but I really do have to go now, so I’ll leave you in Knox’s capable hands. Please excuse me."
"Reese, wait!" Melody calls after me.
I can’t wait. I can’t stay, so I wave at them both, ignoring the knot pulling tight in my gut when I glimpse Knox’s distraught expression.
I walk back to the office, feeling cold despite the sunshine. The last time I let my guard down around Knox, my heart was torn to pieces. Maintaining an emotional distance between us is something I must work harder at. There’s simply too much at stake to pretend we’re friends. Like my head, and my heart. And with the large sum of money the paper has invested in this story, the stakes are too high to allow distractions of any kind. Not only must I deliver an epic story that beats Knox’s, but I need to uncover exactly what happened to my brother and my neighbours at the retreat.
In other words, I need to keep my mind clear and focused. And the more time I spend acting friendly with Knox? The less clear and focused I feel.