Page 54 of Knot Guilty

I push the air from my lungs with a long sigh, knowing he’s right but still worried. The two of us ride the rest of the way to Knot Corp in silence. Knot parks under the portico at the main entry and shuts the big machine off. “Send Gates to my office when he gets here,” he orders the security officer, who walks out to greet us.

“Yes, sir.”

Less than a minute later, Knot and I are in his office looking over the short call list from the phone found in Aaron’s truck. “Aaron said he was with Avara from thirteen hundred until about eighteen thirty?”

“That’s what he said. And his timeline matches up with what I know.”

All but two of the calls made to and from that phone happened in that time frame. The sigh I blow out this time is one of relief. “Aaron’s alibi checks out.”

Knot shakes his head. “Only if Avara corroborates.”

Dismissing his concern, I’m on my feet, practically buzzing with relief. “This is good news. I have to let Aaron know somehow.”

Knot picks up his phone and reaches for the keypad. “I’ll see what I can do to reach him. And now that we know Aaron didn’t make those calls, I’ll contact the prosecutor and give him Aaron’s alibi. Good work, Sadie. Now, you and Gates get out of here.”

Feeling lighter than I have since this morning, I float to the door just in time to see Maxen step off the elevator. I rush over, grabbing his arms. “Aaron’s innocent!”

Maxen smiles. “Of course he is. We knew that. We just needed proof.”

“Well, we have it. Or we will as soon as—"

Maxen touches a finger to my lips. “Work later. Date now.”

I shake my head in silent laughter. “This wasn’t a date.”

He takes my hand and pulls me back inside the elevator. “It is now.”

Outside again, Maxen deposits me in the passenger side of his car and then speeds off toward the central part of the city.

A short time later, we arrive at his apartment building. While the thought of exploring Maxen’s body again is thrilling, I feel disappointed in the man that a midnight romp was his assumed ending. I realize that makes me a bit of a hypocrite, considering my no-strings dating life. Still, I’d come to expect different from Maxen.

Maxen parks, jumps out, and sweeps around to open my door. Though disappointment still thrums in my chest, I accept his hand and step out of the soft leather seat.

Maxen places my hand on his arm and escorts me like a gentleman to the lobby. During the elevator ride, I remain silent and stiff, my brows knitting together as I grow angrier at myself and Maxen. Him for thinking our date wasn’t over just because he hadn’t fucked me yet, and me for believing he’d be different than other guys.

Ready to insist he takes me home before things go any further, I lift my head to study his chiseled face. Maxen cuts his eyes to me as the corners of his lips turn up in amusement like he did the day we sparred for the first time. Like he was reading my mind. He knew what I was thinking… again. That means I’ve been set up… again.

The elevator opens on the top floor, and Maxen guides me toward the emergency stairs instead of his apartment door. Inside the stairwell, he pulls out a ring of keys and unlocks a door marked Roof.

Maxen swings the heavy metal door open and ushers me through, pressing against my back as I move. His breath on my neck sets my heart pumping in overdrive, and slowly, my disappointment becomes anticipation.

The door at the top of the stairs swings out, revealing a private rooftop garden complete with a table for two, dim café lights, vined trellises, and a plush carpet of green grass to one side.

Set on the turf is a white blanket with an ice bucket next to it. A tray holding champagne flutes and chocolate-covered strawberries sits next to the champagne. I freeze in the doorway, taking it all in. For a moment, I feel guilty that I’d set an unfair expectation of Maxen and even more guilty because he met it.

Warmth envelops my back as Maxen presses against me again. His hot breath prickles my neck when he whispers, “What’s the matter, Fate? Not what you were expecting?”

His lips touch down on my bare shoulder, and his tongue paints a lazy circle there, lighting my insides on fire. “You’re worth more than fast fucks with forgettable men. You’re a warrior and a treasure and deserve to be treated like both.”

I spin in place, intending to attack his mouth, but Maxen steps back. “Uh uh. Treasure first.” He steps around me and turns back, reaching for my hand.

His words leave me in a daze, and I absently place my hand in his, letting him pull me toward the romantic scene. At the edge of the patch of grass, Maxen drops to a knee and begins unstrapping my sandals. Deft fingers slide off each shoe, and Maxen slowly rises and retakes my hand.

The grass is cool and soft under my feet. The spongy earth beneath is a soft cushion and contrasts with the concrete and gravel path we took to reach this point. Maxen indicates for me to get comfortable on the blanket, and as I drop down next to the tray of strawberries, he removes his jacket before stooping to remove his own shoes.

Maxen finally moves to join me, uncuffing and then rolling his sleeves as he does. His muscled body should be too big to move as gracefully as it does, but every move he makes looks like it was choreographed by the world’s finest dance instructor.

If I weren’t already seated, I’d feel as clumsy and awkward as a newborn foal next to him. As it is, I feel out of sorts and don’t know what to say or do. Logic and my experience tell me that I should know exactly what to do with a hot male that wants me, but I don’t know how to respond to this special treatment.

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