Page 47 of The Space Between Heartbeats
I hated that I felt this way. I hated that after everything—after his cruelty, after his rejection, after months of silence—I still cared who Knox Aldrich put his arm around.
I wished I didn’t. God, I wished I didn’t.
Owen reached me and pulled me into his solid, safe arms. I hugged him back, but even with my face pressed against his shoulder, while he said how much he missed his Sunny, my eyes couldn’t leave Knox.
And Knox, who’d claimed he didn’t care if I lived or died, who’d made it clear I was nothing to him, was staring right back at me over that girl’s head.
And that look was the opposite of indifference.
Whatever it was it made me choke on a breath and look away…look anywhere but in Knox’s eyes.
I made it through the afternoon somehow. Mostly thanks to Owen choosing me as his partner for volleyball, and Rachel feeding me an endless supply of drinks. Knox seemed to have fucked off somewhere, probably with that girl, not that I cared.
When I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that life was normal again. That I could go back home to our estate in Ashford, and fall asleep in my comfy bed, in my own corner of the house where my only problem would be waking up on time for tennis lessons tomorrow.
The sun was starting to set, and even with the heated pool, I was getting cold. Goosebumps prickled my arms and legs as I got out of the water and searched for a towel.
“Here.”
I turned to find Owen holding out a fluffy white towel. He wrapped it around my shoulders before I could protest, his warm palms grazing my skin.
“You looked cold.”
“Thanks, I was.” I pulled the towel tighter, suddenly aware of how small my bikini actually was when wet. Owen kept his eyes forward though, always respectful.
“I need to find my cover up,” I said, searching the area where every chair suddenly seemed identical to the rest. “I can’t remember where I left it.”
“I’ll help,” Owen said, finishing his beer and tossing the empty bottle in the nearby trash.
As I was describing what to look for, I felt eyes on me. I don’t know how, but I knew it was Knox watching us.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back at him.
We shuffled around a group of guys, talking loudly, Owen holding onto my shoulders.
“You doing okay, Sunny?” Owen asked as soon as we passed them, low enough that only I could hear. “I know this probably isn’t easy. Being back around everyone.”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You don’t have to be fine, you know.” His hand came up to rub my arm through the towel. “Not with me.”
“I know, and thank you. You’re a really good friend, Owen.” I smiled a little, truly believing him. Of all the people out there, I could trust Owen with my heart.
He dropped his hand to his side and I instantly missed his warmth. “Always. Come on, let’s find your clothes.”
“Thanks.”
He lifted his chin toward a chair near the entrance. “That yours?”
“Yes, thank God. I’m so cold.”
We rushed toward it, and I dropped my towel, anxious to get covered up. It felt like everyone was looking at me, noticing my breasts spilling from my cups and how my bottoms were barely holding on.
“Nice suit, Thorne.”
I froze. Every conversation around us seemed to pause.
I turned slowly, and there he was. Knox leaned against the pool house, a beer in his hand, that cruel smile on his face. The one that meant he was about to draw blood and didn’t care who watched.
