Chapter 85 KNOX
Chapter 85 KNOX
I’d stormed out of the locker room still shaking, jaw locked so tight it ached, because if I’d stayed thirty more seconds I would’ve put my fist through Dobbs’ face and gotten myself suspended for the season over it.
The whole way across campus, I kept hearing it—the way they’d talked about her, like she was something laid out on a table for the room to pick apart, rate, argue over who’d get first crack at her if given the chance. Like she was meat. Like she didn’t have a name, a laugh, a whole personality that could reduce a grown man to rubble with a single sentence.
I was still half a second from turning around and going back to finish what I’d started when I saw her.
Juniper came storming out of the girls’ bathroom, muttering something under her breath I couldn’t quite catch, arms crossed, walking like she had a personal vendetta against the floor tile.
And just like that, the anger in my chest cracked down the middle and let something else in.
I felt my jaw unclench before I’d consciously decided to let it. A smile pulled at my mouth, unbidden, watching her stomp down the hallway arguing with what I assumed was herself, since there was nobody else around to be on the receiving end of whatever she was muttering.
Christ. She had no idea what she was doing to me.
I fell into step beside her before she’d even clocked I was there. “Wait up Speckles.”
She didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down. I lengthened my stride to catch up, falling into step beside her.
“You look like you’re about to commit a felony.”
“I’m considering several.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“I really don’t.”
I studied her face—the flush still sitting high on her cheeks, the way her hands had curled slightly at her sides like she was still finishing an argument she’d already won. “You look pissed.”
“I’m not pissed.”
“You’re doing the thing with your jaw.”
“What thing.”
“The thing where you look like you’re grinding your molars into dust.”
She exhaled hard through her nose, some of the fight visibly draining out of her shoulders, replaced by something closer to exhaustion.
“Fine. Your ex-girlfriend is a menace with a God complex. Happy?”
“Tracy?”
“Wow. Incredible detective work. Should I call the department, tell them we’ve got a real Sherlock Holmes on our hands?”
Something hot and immediate flared behind my ribs—the same thing that had shown up on the quad this morning, uninvited and entirely too interested in staking a claim.
“What did she fucking say to you?”
“Oh, the usual. I’m a phase. You don’t do real. Ask anyone, ask Hunter—apparently I’m supposed to gather references before I continue being your girlfriend.” Juniper waved a hand like she was swatting the memory away, though the tightness in her jaw said it hadn’t actually left.
“Very informative. Very rude. I put her in her place. Very eloquently, might I add.I may have even caused a brief malfunction in her vocabulary.” She shrugged, but there was something underneath the smugness, something tighter she wasn’t quite hiding.
“But she’s not buying it. Any of it. She’s convinced this whole thing is smoke and mirrors, and honestly? I don’t think I actually won. I think I just made her more determined."
"Are you okay?"
“I'll survive. Apparently being emotionally tortured by your ex is all part of the premium fake-girlfriend package.”
“She’s a stubborn bitch, that one.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.” Juniper glanced sideways at me, something sharp and curious in her expression.
“How did you even end up with her in the first place? Genuinely asking. What was the appeal?”
I shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “The usual. Our dads were always meeting up, throwing us together like it was some kind of arranged friendship. She had great tits. Great ass. She was good in bed—no argument there. Didn’t require much conversation. Easy.” I huffed a short, self-mocking breath.
“And I was a guy who thought mostly with his cock. Pretty face, nice body, available—that was the whole application process. Critical thinking was optional. Character assessment was non-existent. Not exactly my finest era of decision-making.”
Juniper stared at me for a beat, then let out a short, disbelieving breath.
“Why did I even ask? Of course that was the appeal. Depth of character. Emotional availability. A shared love of literature. No—tits, ass, and a solid performance review. How incredibly surprising. Thank you for that deeply enriching insight into your romantic decision-making process.”
I almost smiled. Almost. “In my defense,” I added,
“I was seventeen, Speckles. At that age, my standards were basically breathing and looking good. I’ve grown since then. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“I said mostly. I didn’t say entirely. Let’s not get ambitious.”
She huffed something that was almost a laugh, and for a second the tension in her shoulders eased. Then it came right back, jaw setting again, and I could practically watch her replaying the bathroom conversation behind her eyes.
“She’s not going to stop,” Juniper said quietly. “She’s not going to let this go until she’s proven it’s fake.”
Something settled in my chest, decisive and simple.
“Then we give her a show she won’t forget.”
Juniper stopped walking. “What?”
“She wants proof? Then we’ll give her proof.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why do I suddenly feel like that's a terrible idea?”
“Because you know me.”
“That is precisely why I'm concerned.”
“She thinks this is a phase I’m going through. Fine. Let’s stop trying to convince her with words, since apparently words aren’t working, and just show her instead.” I turned to face her fully, something reckless and warm building behind my ribs.
“We go somewhere she can’t argue with. Somewhere she has to watch it in real time and can’t tell herself it’s an act afterward.”
“How, exactly, do you plan on—”
“There’s a club she frequents. Every week, same night, like clockwork—some things about Tracy never change.” I could already feel the shape of the plan settling into place, sharp and satisfying.
“We go there tonight. You, me. And I make sure that by the time we leave, she never doubts this relationship again.”
Juniper stared at me for a long moment, something complicated moving behind her eyes—skepticism, and underneath it, something that looked almost like nerves. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
“This feels like a lot of effort for someone you claim not to care about anymore.”
“It’s not about her.” The words came out before I’d fully thought them through, and I meant them more than I expected to.
“It’s about you walking around campus with people whispering ‘phase’ behind your back like it’s a fact instead of something Tracy made up because she can’t stand watching me be happy with someone else.”
Something shifted in Juniper’s expression—soft, unguarded, gone as fast as it appeared, replaced by the usual armor.
“Careful, Reyes. That almost sounded like a real feeling.”
“Don’t get used to it.” I nudged her shoulder with mine, already walking again, already grinning.
“Nine o’clock. Wear something Tracy’s going to have nightmares about.”
She fell into step beside me, still watching me sideways. “And if I say no?”
“You won’t.”
“That’s arrogant.”
“That’s accurate.” I glanced down at her, fighting a grin. “Besides, you already put her in her place once today. Might as well finish the job properly. Consider it community service—apparently someone has to teach Tracy that the world doesn’t revolve around her.”
Juniper snorted. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Obviously. I’d hate to waste a perfectly good opportunity to ruin my ex-girlfriend’s evening.”
“Such a gentleman.”
“I have my moments.”
Juniper exhaled, long and resigned, but there was a spark under it now—something sharper than pure reluctance. “You’re going to be unbearable about this, aren’t you?”
“Extremely.”
“Wonderful. Exactly what I needed to hear.”
I laughed under my breath and kept walking, the last of the locker\-room rage finally burning off into something far more useful.
Tonight, Tracy was going to get the show of her life.
And Juniper—whether she was ready for it or not—was going to be right there in the middle of it with me.
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