Page 2 of Knot Only His

It’s getting too regular.

It took me half an hour to get home, which is an apartment in New York that I share with my boyfriend Colton and his brother Carver.

And I’ve still not gotten over Mark’s lack of faith in me.

I stare at myself in my bathroom mirror as I wipe off my make-up. My reflection shows a woman who looks put together, a little powerful perhaps. But nobody can see the turbulence rolling on the inside.

I throw the wipes into the sink, frustrated and a little angry with myself.

Because beneath the carefully selected outfits, the professional makeup, and bright smile, doubt churns inside me like a restless tide.

I should have voiced myself to Mark.

I should have told him to stuff his job.

“Are you okay?” a deep voice asks.

I spin to Carver, my boyfriend, Colton’s brother.

I nod as he pushes his large hand through his almost black hair as he watches me from the doorway.

“Rough day?” he asks, something knowing in his beautiful blue eyes and definitely in his tone.

I laugh, but it sounds hollow. “Mark gave me a bonus. As if that compensates for the way he uses me.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. I sigh. “I’m over it, Carver, but where else do I earn this kind of money?”

I don’t tell Carver that Mark just earned over one hundred thousand from my contact, and he gave me five.

“I—I just want more.” I whine. Hating the sound that comes from my mouth. I sound so fucking needy it makes me cringe. “He should’ve promoted me by now. I should have earned that money.”

Carver pushes off the door frame and moves closer, his presence warm, as always.

There’s always been something between us. Not necessarily romantic, but electric. I suppose it’s because when I was younger; I thought Carver would be the one for me, but he never asked, and I slid into a relationship with his brother.

Still, Carver and I have a connection that makes me feel seen in ways Colton rarely does.

He gets me.

And it doesn’t help that I love the way he smells. Not that I’ve told him.

“Get ready,” he says.

I stare at him for a moment, watching the tattoo on his neck that seems to move as his jaw ticks. Like now. It’s as though he is angry at Mark for me.

“I don’t feel like going out and pretending I’m happy.”

He scrubs his hand over his stubble jaw, and up into his hair again, ruffling it in a way that makes my fingers itch to do the same.

“We’re going to a party. You need a distraction.”

I scrunch my nose. “I’ve just taken off my make-up.”

He smiles as he walks to me and taps the end of my nose. “And now you look perfect.”

I let Carver drag me to the party, though part of me wanted to crawl into bed with a pint of vanilla ice cream and console my lack of promotion with enough sugar for my body to zip with happiness. Even though I know it would be counter-productive and I’d just feel sluggish for the rest of the day.

So, I didn’t, and now the bass pounds through my chest as we enter the penthouse suite.

The place is packed.

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