Page 6 of Knox's Boy

"This is it," the driver said, slowing down. He eyed the destination through the rearview mirror, then looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. I didn't blame him. I looked like I was there to deliver a pizza, not… whatever this was.

"Here is fine," I said quickly. "Just at the gate."

I couldn't bear the thought of him driving through those gates. I wanted to walk. I needed the air.I paid him and scrambled out. He left me standing alone on the sidewalk.

The gates were massive. Iron twisted into thorny patterns that spiraled upward to black spikes. Beyond them, through the gaps in the metal, I could see a winding stone drivewaylined with hedges so well maintained that they looked more put together than me. And further back, the house.It was modern with glass and dark stone, exactly how a millionaire’s house looked in my imagination. Warm light spilled from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I swallowed, my throat dry. I looked like a stray dog sniffing at the palace doors.

I approached the intercom mounted on the stone pillar. It was steel, polished to a mirror shine. My finger hovered over the button.Turn back,a voice in my head screamed.

Run back to the main road, catch a bus, forget the money. You know you can’t do this. You’ll fail and it’ll be another embarrassment for your pathetic life.

But I thought of the eviction notice. I thought of Finn’s texts. I thought of the nine dollars in my bank account.

I pressed the button.

There was no static, no buzzing. Just a clear, resonant click.

"Florian."

Knox’s voice was deep and calm. He had been waiting. Watching.

"I'm here," I squeaked, then cleared my throat, trying to sound like an adult. "I'm here."

There was a soft hydraulic hiss. The massive gates began to swing inward, moving with a smooth, silent weight. They opened like arms welcoming me into the trap.I stepped through. The gravel of the driveway crunched loudly under my sneakers. I walked slowly, one foot in front of the other, my eyes fixed on the massive oak front door at the end of the path. My hearthammered against my ribs, but my legs kept moving, carrying me to a predator’s mouth, like a little scared bunny.

I didn't have to knock. Before my knuckles could even graze the dark wood, the door swung open, revealing him.

God, he was even more handsome now. I couldn’t quite believe my eyes.

Knox wore a crisp white dress shirt, tucked perfectly into gray trousers. The top button was undone, exposing his throat, but it didn’t make him look relaxed. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms that were thick with muscle and dusted with dark hair. That sight alone made my cock twitch uncomfortably. He was crazy attractive; there was no denying it.

"You're punctual," he said. His dark eyes swept over me, lingering for a second on my windblown hair and cheap hoodie that I carried in my arms. "Good."

He stepped aside, a silent command to enter. I crossed the threshold, and the heavy door clicked shut behind me.

I’d die of nerves at any moment.

The house was… quiet. The air was cool and smelled of nothing. My sneakers squeaked on the gleaming hardwood floor, a sound that made me wince.

"Jacket," Knox said, holding out a hand.I handed it to him. He didn't toss it over a chair; he opened a concealed closet and hung it on a wooden hanger, placing it with care.

"Follow me."

He led me deeper into the house. The hallway was wide, the walls adorned with art. Most paintings depicted storms, which was curious. There was no clutter. No mail on a table, no shoeskicked off near the door. Everything was terrifyingly precise, almost as if no one ever lived there.

"The kitchen is through there," he said, gesturing to an archway on the left. I caught a glimpse of stainless steel and black marble. "You are free to eat whatever you wish. If there is something specific you require, leave a note for the housekeeper."

I nodded, mute.Housekeeper. I hadn't seen a soul. A brief thought crossed my mind: maybe I could be his housekeeper instead. I could clean, and then we wouldn’t need to… well.

We continued. "My study is down that hall. The door is usually closed. If it is closed, you do not enter. If it is open, you may knock."

His tone was informative, like a landlord showing a tenant around. He pointed toward the back of the house. "There’s a heated pool, year-round. There are trunks in the guest changing room, though privacy is absolute here, so they aren't strictly necessary. Feel free to use it." I had no ideawhenhe was even considering that I might use it. Maybe he expected us to finish our business early, so I could get up at 3am and eat all his snacks and go for a swim before leaving.

He stopped at the edge of a giant living room. It was breathtaking. A wall of glass looked out over the city, the lights of downtown shimmering. The furniture was fucking expensive. It was planned. Modern. Gray fabric. A single orchid sat on a glass coffee table, its white petals perfect.

"Sit," Knox said, gesturing to the sofa.