Chapter 97 KNOX

Chapter 97 KNOX
I had just put the car in drive when two sharp knocks rattled the back passenger window.

I glanced sideways and saw Katy standing there, arms crossed, wearing the expression of a woman who’d just discovered a federal crime in progress.

Piper stood right behind her, one hand on her hip, the other still clutching what remained of the evening’s confiscated bottle like a weapon she hadn’t ruled out using.

“Open the door, Reyes,” Katy called through the glass.

Juniper suddenly perked up like someone had flipped a switch. “Friends! My people! They’ve arrived!”

I unlocked the doors, mostly because refusing felt like it would only escalate into something louder, more public, and considerably more likely to end with security involved.

Katy yanked the back door open and climbed in like she owned the vehicle. Piper followed, slamming her door harder than the situation strictly required.

“You were just going to take her home?” Piper asked, twisting in her seat to pin me with a look sharp enough to draw blood.

“That was the plan.”

Piper clicked her seatbelt into place with aggressive precision, then turned her full attention onto me.

“Let’s make something very clear, Knox. We know your reputation.”

I glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Oh, do you?”

“Your reputation arrives in a room five minutes before you do.” She said it flatly.

“You’re a notorious playboy. You probably have more notches on your bedpost than this car has miles on it.”

“That seems statistically unlikely.”

“Doesn’t matter. The point stands—we don’t trust you.”

Katy folded her arms, backing her up without hesitation.

“Piper’s right. Forgive us if we don’t trust you just because you’re playing chauffeur tonight. We know your type. Charming, cocky, allergic to commitment.”

“Allergic to commitment? Damn. I didn’t realise you two had a medical file on me.”

Katy didn’t budge. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” I nodded solemnly. “And I appreciate the diagnosis. Should I expect a prescription, or are we just treating me with aggressive judgment and unsolicited opinions?”

“Knox!”

“What? I’m listening. I just want to make sure I follow the treatment plan.”

Piper rolled her eyes.

I shrugged. “Relax. I’m not planning to seduce her, rob her, or sacrifice her to the gods of bad decisions. I’m just taking your drunk friend home.”

Katy narrowed her eyes.

“But by all means, keep interrogating me.”

“We’re not interrogating you,” Piper said. “We’re just not letting her drunk ass near a known playboy without supervision. Especially not you.”

Juniper gasped, loud and scandalized, twisting around to look at me like she’d just uncovered a genuine crime scene. “Knoxy.”

“What.”

“You were gonna take advantage of me.” She said it with real, wobbly gravity, jabbing a finger at my chest and missing by a solid inch.

“I wasn’t going to do anything except drive you home.”

“That’s what they all say.” She narrowed her eyes at me, deeply suspicious, seemingly forgetting she’d been defending my honor to these exact two people thirty seconds earlier.

“I’ve seen the documentaries, Knoxy. I know how this works. Man drives girl home. Girl doesn’t remember the rest. Very sinister pattern.”

“Speckles, I put your seatbelt on for you.”

“That’s exactly what a predator would do.” She crossed her arms, entirely convinced by her own logic, then immediately undercut the effect with a hiccup.

I fought the urge to laugh. “I have literally never once tried anything with you.”

“That you’re admittin’ to.”

“There’s nothing to admit.”

“Suspicious,” she said, nodding slowly, building her case file in real time.

“Katy, write that down. ‘Suspiciously well-behaved.’ That’s evidence.”

I looked over at her—glaring at me with all the menace of a golden retriever attempting to look intimidating—and felt something warm and helpless settle in my chest despite every effort to stay annoyed.

“You do know I’m the one who stopped you from making out with a stranger on the dance floor, right? If I wanted to take advantage of a drunk girl tonight, there was a much easier candidate standing right there.”

That gave her pause. She considered it with real, deep concentration, swaying slightly even while sitting still.

“…He was just dancing with me.”

“Dancing? But was his intention pure?”

Her eyes scrunched in thought.

“Hmm…” She nodded once, reached over and patted my arm, missing and landing on my knee instead.

“You’re still very cute, though. For a suspected predator.”

“I’m not a—never mind.”

Juniper twisted around in her seat, nearly strangling herself with the seatbelt.

“He’s not a playboy right now. He’s on probation. Temporary good-behavior status. I’m monitoring him.” She paused, then rallied.

“I trust him. But I’m also keepin’ one eye open. Metaphorically. Both eyes, actually, ’cause I don’t trust my depth perception right now, but you get the sentiment.”

“You’re monitoring nothing,” Katy said. “You’re three drinks past making sense and two past standing upright.”

“Why does everyone think I’m drunk?” Juniper replied, before hiccupping.

I pulled away from the curb before the whole exchange could attract an audience.

“I can’t believe you just scooped her up like a caveman, carried her out of the club over your shoulder, and left us there,” Piper added, still irritated.

“I was prioritizing getting her out of there before she gave away our entire arrangement,” I said dryly.

Katy studied the back of my head. “You realize she’s going to remember approximately twelve percent of this tomorrow, right? And somehow still hold it against all of us.”

“I’m right here,” Juniper announced. “I can hear you. My ears are still operational. Mostly.”

“Good,” Piper said. “Then hear this—we don’t trust him. Not fully. Not yet. Famous athlete with a revolving door of girls and a face that makes people forget their standards? We’re babysitting.”

I tightened my grip on the wheel. “I’ve been nothing but careful with her tonight.”

Juniper shrieked suddenly, delighted. “He was! He carried me like a very expensive, very important package. Ten out of ten technique. Would get kidnapped again.”

“Speckles,” I muttered.

“What? I’m being honest. Honesty is important in relationships. Even the complicated ones that are… you know fake… depending on who you ask and how many drinks they’ve had.”

Piper leaned forward at that, clearly filing it away. “See? This is what we’re dealing with. She has no idea what she’s talking about.”

I exhaled through my nose. “Look. I get it. You’re protective. Fine. But I’m not the enemy here.”

“Your buddies tried to stop us from following you,” Katy said, voice sharpening.

“Hunter stepped in front of me like I was storming a castle. So I did what any reasonable woman would do.”

I glanced at her in the mirror. “Which was?”

“Knee. Direct hit.” She smiled without warmth. “He’s currently nursing his future children and rethinking every life choice that led him to block a doorway.”

"Fucking hell!"

Piper nodded, entirely satisfied. “Slate tried the ‘calm down, ladies’ approach. Poor thing. He’s reflecting too. Quietly. With ice, if he has any sense left.”

Juniper twisted around again, nearly climbing into the back seat with the effort.

“You hit them in the dick? That’s so cool. That’s friendship. That’s the kind of loyalty people write songs about.”

“Sit down before you hang yourself with the seatbelt.”

She flopped back against the seat, then immediately turned her head toward me, wide-eyed and earnest.

“You’re not mad about the dick-hitting, right? It was justified. Protective measures. Like a friendship airbag.”

I ignored that entirely. “Where am I taking her—her place, or yours?”

“Ours,” Piper said immediately. “We’re not leaving her alone tonight, and we’re definitely not leaving her with you while she’s still calling you Knoxy and rating your kidnapping technique.”

Juniper gasped. “I stand by the rating. Sturdy. Reliable. Excellent core strength. Five stars. Would recommend to a friend. Not that I have any friends left who need kidnapping, but the principle remains.”

Piper rubbed her temples. “I need aspirin.”

Juniper sat up suddenly, eyes wide with alarm. “Wait. Did we leave the fans? The three bathroom fans? Do they know where we went? Should we send a statement?”

“No statements,” I said firmly.

“But the brand—”

“The brand is going to sleep.”

She considered this gravely, then nodded. “Okay. Sleep is also strategic. I accept this temporary retreat.”

She settled back against the seat, eyelids drooping, and within a minute her head tipped sideways until it rested against my shoulder—soft, warm, completely unguarded.

In the rearview, Katy and Piper exchanged a look I couldn’t quite read.

“She’s out,” Piper murmured.

“For now,” Katy said. “She’ll be back. Probably with opinions.”

I adjusted my arm carefully so her neck wouldn’t cramp, keeping my eyes fixed on the road.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” I said quietly.

Katy’s voice softened, just a fraction. “See that you don’t. Because if you do, the dick-hitting was only the opening act.”

Fuck. Poor Hunter and Slate.
I wondered if they’d be out of action for a while—or if they’d ever walk in a straight line again without flinching at the sight of a woman’s knee.

Juniper stirred against my shoulder, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “Team Floor Hug forever,” before going still again.

I drove the rest of the way in silence, the weight of her steady and warm against me, while two very unimpressed best friends watched my every move from the back seat like a jury that hadn’t quite decided on a verdict yet.

For the first time all night, I genuinely wasn’t sure which was more dangerous—the girl currently drooling on my shirt, or the two women who would burn the entire world down without hesitation if I ever gave them a reason to.

\---