Page 28 of My Knight

I swung my legs out of bed and pulled on the nearest pair of jeans, and didn’t bother with a shirt or even shoes. My heart was beating too fast.

I left the room and jogged down the hallway. My bare feet slapped against the old hardwood floors. My stomach twisted the closer I got to the common room. It was early, barely dawn from the look of the pale blue light stretching across the floor. I didn’t see anyone at first, and that only made it worse.

Yarder stood by the back door with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand and one brow already raised before I could get a word out. “Chill,” he called casually like he hadn’t just seen me come charging in like my world was ending.

“She’s gone,” I said, breathless, and scanned the room like maybe she’d just be curled up on the couch or perched on the counter.

Yarder jerked his chin toward the back door. “No, she’s out back. Playing with Harley and Davidson.”

I didn’t respond. I moved to the door.

Saylor sat in the dewy grass in one of my old hoodies, bare-legged, with Harley draped across her lap like a spoiled lapdog despite being seventy pounds of pure muscle. She tossed a faded red ball across the yard, and Davidson took off like a rocket with his tail wagging and tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

He brought it back to her, and she laughed—soft and sweet. She scratched his ears and told him he was a good boy like it was the best part of her morning. Maybe it was.

I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. I just watched her and let the fear drain out of me with every wag of those damn dogs’ tails.

She was safe.

Yarder moved beside me. The steam from his coffee rose in lazy swirls and curled around his face as he took a sip.

“You good now?” he asked with a small grin playing on his lips.

I exhaled and nodded. “I thought something happened to her.”

He nodded and took another slow sip of his coffee. “Been there, man. The feeling sucks. I barely knew Poppy when the garage fucking blew up, but even then… I knew. I knew I’d do anything to keep her safe.”

I looked out at Saylor again. Her fingers were buried in Harley’s fur now, and Davidson was curled up next to her like he didn’t have a care in the world. She glanced toward the clubhouse for a moment, but she hadn’t seen me yet. Her face was soft. Relaxed. Beautiful.

“I really don’t know her,” I said, my voice low. “Not really. But it’s like…” I trailed off, unsure how to say it.

Yarder didn’t press me.

“It’s like you’re gonna die if something happens to her,” he finished for me.

I didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah.”

“But…” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know her. We’ve barely touched. Haven’t even kissed. We’re just starting, but… I’ve got this feeling like she’s mine. Like I’ve already claimed her and the rest is just catching up.”

Yarder looked over at me, his expression solemn now. “Just don’t question it, man. No point in trying to talk yourself out of it when it’s already happened.”

I nodded slowly and watched Saylor toss the ball again, but neither dog got up to chase it. They were content just laying with her.

“But what happened?” I asked. “When did it happen?”

He tipped his head toward the yard. “You found your world, man.”

And damn if that didn’t feel exactly right.

Saylor

Davidson was sprawled out beside me in the grass like a sunbathing prince with his big head resting on my leg. Harley was in my lap, half-curled up and his eyes blinking sleepily every few seconds as I ran my fingers behind his ears. He let out a soft huff of air and shifted closer, practically melting into me.

I smiled as I looked down at them.

I’d always wanted a dog growing up. I used to beg my parents for one every birthday and Christmas. I left pictures of golden retrievers and German shepherds on the fridge like some kids left notes for Santa. But the answer had always been the same: no. Too much work. Too much mess. Too much responsibility.

Then I’d grown up. Moved out. Had my own apartment. My own life.

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