Page 65 of Knight

“We’ll know what he’s planning if you open the box.” She skips over to it, pulling it to the edge of the bed. “C’mon, don’t you wanna rip it open?”

“Clearly, I like suspense,” I mutter, but she has a point. Whatever’s inside will clue me in to what’s going on in Damien’s twisted mind. “Fine.” Plopping on the bed beside it, I push it over to my sister. “You open it.”

She’s quick to agree, pulling the top off like it’s Christmas but when I see what’s inside, I regret my decision. “So it’s that kinda date.”

My cheeks grow warm as I grab the lid out of her hand, slamming it on top. “Seems like that’s the only kinda date he wants,” I groan.

“Are you guys doing the dirty again?”

“Get out.”

She doesn’t. “Wait, have you and Christian—?”

“Out!” Now I’m pushing her towards the door.

“Okay, but let me know if you need help getting ready,” Willow says, unfazed that I’m her personal escort to her room. “Because if it’s that kind of date, you’ll need some help.”

SLAM!

Closing the door on my sister’s rambling clears the air for me to think. Walking back to the bed, I open the box again and stare at what’s inside. It’s a strappy piece, like the one I nabbed from Nancy, except in red. Leather with gold buckles and accents. It reminds me of the homecoming game, Damien trapping me in that locker room. While it makes my skin prickle with heat, I’m a little disappointed.

He says this is a date, yet he sends me lingerie to wear. Am I supposed to trust that we’re anything other than two people who have amazing sex? Amazing, twisted, mind-blowing sex?

Reaching for a red strap, I pick up the delicate lingerie from the box before my eyebrows raise. There’s a note underneath, something red poking through the layer of white tissues lining the box.

Wear it all - Your One True King

Rolling my eyes at his signoff, I lift the layer of tissue paper to reveal a silky, red gown. A smile pulls at my lips. Looks like I was quick to judge. Holding the dress against my body, I’m happy it’s not too fussy. Damien knows me better than he lets on. The dress hits my knees, like a sexy little slip and yeah, I’m pairing this with my boots.

“Low!” I call and my sister’s quick to answer, appearing in my room like a flash of lighting with a whiff of perfume.

“Change your—Woah,” Willow pauses, a huge smile on her face when she sees the dress in my hand. Seeing the excitement in those big brown eyes makes me all the more amped for this night. “So you do need my help.”

If I want to prove that I can trust him. I should at least give him a chance. Right? Smiling at my sister I nod. “Let’s get me ready for a date!”

* * *

This seems normal.

Too normal.

I’m holding my breath. Both literally and figuratively. “Last Caress” by the Misfits blare on his speakers and I’m starting to think we’re music soulmates. It helps calm my nerves and clear my head of suspicion. At least for a bit.

Damien was on time, arriving in a dark red sweater under his leather jacket. He compliments my dress, his black slacks clean and crisp, his hair in place. This is the first I’ve seen him so cleaned up since the dance and it’s hard not to stare. He even smells more delicious than usual. A hint of spice to go along with that minty herbal musk.

As he drives, he leans his elbow on his door. His fingers still move as if he has his lost coin, and his mind always seems like it’s elsewhere. As if he reads my thoughts, he glances over at me, like he’s blasting back to reality. A small smile tugs at those soft lips before his hand comes over to my lap. It’s cold as usual, but my thigh feels warm. When he takes my hand, intertwining our fingers, I can’t ignore how perfect we fit, how good it feels.

We’re pulling up to The Palace valet and I’m reminded of the last time we were here. The party where I got arrested. My jaw clenches, my hands going tense. When I squeeze his hand, he looks over at me, his eyes moving around my face.

“I made reservations at Boudoir,” he says. “It’s the restaurant inside.” He pulls up to the man in a black vest, waving him over. At least we’re not heading back to where it all went down. “Don’t ask about dessert. You’re the only thing on the menu for that.” When he winks I can’t help but smile, the valet opening the door. He blinks at my boots as they hit the floor.

Welcome to Eden, where even the valet judges my decisions.

“Winston,” Damen greets, tossing the valet his keys.

“Evening, Mr. King,” the valet says with an eager nod and a smile.

Damien looks amazing tonight. Like the dark king he is, the red and black combo making him look like a decadent devil. I keep reminding myself that if I’m going to have a good time tonight, I need to trust him. If I want more, I have to show that I trust him so he can trust me.

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