Page 60 of A Smile Full of Lies
Knox had let this happen. He’d approved it. Hewantedthis.
The idea of people profiting off his trauma made my stomach churn. But the fact that Knox seemed completely unbothered by it? That somehow made it worse.
And the fact that I was turned on right now, thanks to that fucking Nox Obscura video? That made it fuckinghumiliating.
My pulse hammered. My breath hitched. My thighs clenched involuntarily.
Shit. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I didn’t even know this Nox Obscura guy, but the way he moved — the way he fuckinghunted— had triggered something primal and dangerous beneath my skin.
It was the same dark pulse that had simmered low and sharp in my veins ever since I typed those fateful words into that anonymous forum the other night.
I think I want to be chased.
My cheeks burned.
On another note, why thefuckhad I just implied to those high-and-mighty Nox Obscura groupies that Knox and I were more than we actually were? Why did I say I knew him intimately when I saw these two heifers practically salivating over the thought of Knox?
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
The line started moving. My pulse thudded painfully beneath my skin. My fingers tightened around the ticket as my gaze lifted toward the darkened archway.
Knox approved of this. Knoxwantedthis. But why?
“If she knows what Philip Knox smells like,” the blonde said, her tone pitched just loud enough to carry, “I wonder what else she knows about the guy that other people don’t.”
But my mouth tugged into a slow, dangerous smirk as I glanced over my shoulder and arched a brow at her and her friends.
“Wouldn’t you just love to know, sweetheart?”
The blonde’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened and then snapped shut. Her friend’s expression sharpened. My smirk widened.
Let them wonder.
I turned toward the archway and took a step forward. My pulse hammered painfully beneath my skin, and somewhere in the dark, I imagined Knox’s sharp blue eyes watching me.
The heavy doors creaked open. A dark, yawning gap stretched before us.
The girls surged forward as a haunted house worker waved us inside. Flickering lantern light pooled across the stone floor. The air smelled sharp and metallic, with an undercurrent of something damp and decayed.
“Come on,” the blonde said, tugging her friend’s sleeve. “We’ll lose our spot.”
The girl with the black curls shot me one last look, her eyes glittering with envy.
I followed them through the dark and the heavy doors swung shut behind us with a sharpclang.
The air tightened.
Dim purple lights buzzed faintly beneath the high archways. Cold stone pressed beneath my shoes as we crossed into the entrance hall.
A deep, distorted sound echoed through the shadows. Low. Mechanical. Almost like breathing.
My skin prickled.
The blonde surged toward the sound, practically salivating like a Pavlovian dog.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
