Knox (Sexy Bastard #3) (17 page)

T
he last month
has been the worst training session I’ve ever been through.

Not workout-wise. I’m at the top of my game now, throwing perfect pitches in almost every drill and running through the paces like any other seasoned pro. Probably because on the mound is the only place I can let the rest of my life fall away and focus only on the game. Nothing but the game.

The rest of the time I’ve spent moping around my hotel room, or dragged along with teammates to mind-numbingly boring nights out at bars full of girls who all look and sound the same to me: not Shelby.

As for Shelby, we’ve exchanged a few texts, but nothing more exciting than a
How was your day
or
Hope everything’s good
. The sexy morning selfies have ground to a halt, along with the sexy other messages we were trading day in and day out that first week.

Not that I blame her. Shoving the girl you can potentially see spending the rest of your life with into a closet because you’re wimping out of admitting to her brother you’re dating is some seriously fucked up shit. But it’s doing a number on my mental state right now.

My first morning back in Atlanta, I trudge back to my house and collapse onto the couch. Already the place looks empty without her in it. The couch, especially, looked so much more appealing with a sexy, lithe little number bent backwards over it . . . 

Ugh
. I open my phone to text Shelby, let her know I’m back and see if she wants to talk about all this crap. That’s when I see the latest text from Ryder, inviting me to a welcome home dinner at his place tonight.

Thanks, bro.
I text back.
Looking forward to seeing you guys.
Signed, your sneaky friend Knox, about to be disowned by this entire friend group. And probably everyone else I know.

“
W
e’ve missed
you around here!” Cassie throws her arms around me at the door. Ryder’s right behind her, decked out in an apron and holding a pair of tongs. I hand off the couple of bottles of wine I brought.

“What’s up, Ryder? Cassie got you running around the kitchen barefoot and pregnant?”

“Hey man, gotta represent when you’re barbecuing ribs. Come on out back.”

The gang’s all here. Jackson. Cash and Savannah. Ruby and Avery. And, of course, Shelby. She looks different. Even better than I remember. Though, with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail and with all black jeans and a dark tight sweater on, she seems to have changed up her style in the month I’ve been gone.

She doesn’t look my way at all, and yet, I can feel her following me as I make my way slowly around the table. We’re like magnets, constantly aware of one another’s presence, always being drawn toward one another. But, in this case, there’s a whole lot of friends in the way before we can finally touch.

I greet everyone else first. When I finally reach her, and lean in to kiss her on the cheek, the same way I greeted Avery, Ruby, and Savannah, I let my lips linger just a second longer. I swear to god, I can feel the spark when my lips brush her soft, smooth cheek. My hand brushes her shoulder, squeezing it lightly, just enough to let her know what I’m thinking. How much I’ve missed her.

Her fingers graze mine as she leans in.

“Shit.”

Somehow our greeting knocks over her wine glass.

“Nice one, Knox. Way to make an entrance.” Cash tosses us a roll of paper towels, and I avoid her eyes as I dump wads of paper onto the table to soak up the spill.

As soon as the coast—or, table in this case—is clear, I scoot across to the grill, far enough away from her that I’ll be safe from any more accidents. Proximity to Shelby, it turns out, isn’t just dangerous for the two of us, but also for any surrounding items of furniture.

“It’s been too long since we’ve all been together, man.” Ryder says as he passes me a beer.

“We should do another run to the lake house soon.” Cash stretches his arms over his head. “Maybe in the summer, so the girls can swim for longer this time.”

Savannah swats him upside the back of the head.

“Seriously, I’m no longer allowed to use the word swim?”

“Relax, y’all,” Avery calls out. “I’m not going to freak out. Unless you even
consider
going up to the lake house without me. Then I’ll be very offended.”

“That’s my girl, Avery. We’ve got nothing to hide!” Ruby raises her beer in a toast to the naked ladies’ polar bear club.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ruby. I’ll be wearing a swimsuit next time, that’s for sure,” says Avery.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jackson asks, his perplexed expression sparking laughter all around.

I wait for Shelby to butt in with a joke, or play along. Instead, she sips at her newly refilled wine glass in silence, her gaze seemingly glued to the side of said glass. It’s like she isn’t even listening.

I chew on the inside of my lip, wishing I could pull her away for a minute and find out what’s going on in that sexy little brain of hers. Except I probably already know what the problem is.

Me.

Shelby’s eyes flick up, and she catches me watching. I try to smile, but I can’t read her expression from where I’m standing.

Let’s just get through tonight,
I wish I could psychically tell her.
Then we’ll talk later.

Speaking of people we need to talk to. Jackson joins us by the grill and inhales deeply. “Those ribs done yet? I’m starving.”

“Just about,” Ryder calls.

I shift my weight side-to-side, eying Jackson. “So . . . how’d those meetings turn out?” I can’t think of another way to break the ice. Ice he probably doesn’t even know exists.

“Really good, actually. We’ve got a mountain of paperwork and financing ahead of us, but it looks like we’ll be breaking ground early next year.”

“Don’t you go taking on too much work.” Ryder claps Jackson on the back. “If we want to add another bar to this nightlife empire of ours, we’re going to need your help.”

“Hang on, another bar?” I reply, with yet another glance at Shelby.
Did she know about this idea?
First I’ve heard of it. Damn, how long
have
I been gone?

“The sexy bastard empire strikes again.” Cassie emerges from the kitchen with oven mitts on her hands and a hot dish between them.

“Smells great,” Cash says. “Didn’t take you for a baker, Cassie.”

“My mom’s cornbread recipe. Ribs are coming right off the grill, everybody.”

The spring air takes on a bit of a chill as darkness falls, the girls pulling on sweaters and scarves. We gather around the table, and I position myself directly across from Shelby, danger to the furniture be damned. I can’t resist her. And besides, she’s acting strange, so quiet and distant from everyone tonight. I want to make sure she’s okay.

Savannah opens another bottle of red and fills our glasses. “A little chill never stopped southerners from enjoying some charred meat, am I right?”

Shelby downs half of her glass in a couple of gulps.

“Slow down, sis.” Jackson grabs the bottle and tops her off. “We’re supposed to be toasting Knox.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Savannah says.

“For the peanut gallery to simmer down. Now, without further ado . . . Here’s to our man Knox. To having an excellent first season with the Atlanta Braves.”

Jackson lifts his glass while Shelby grips hers, and we all toast to a new beginning I didn’t ask for. “Thanks, guys.” Judging by how loosely my head has been screwed on with all the Shelby stuff going on, I’m going to need all the help I can get. “So, what’s this about adding another bar to the empire?” I add, after we’ve all set our glasses down and dug into the delicious, melt-in-your-mouth ribs Ryder grilled up.

Cash helps himself to a heap of baked beans. “Jackson’s idea. Take the laid-back vibe we’ve got going at the Library and ramp up the speakeasy factor.”

“It’s going to be a real back alley kind of place,” Jackson explains, excited. “Unmarked. You enter through a false front and then access the bar through a fake vending machine.”

“We’re actually thinking of buying up the off-track betting place on Downey Street to make that our entry point,” Ryder adds. “It used to be a speakeasy itself, way back when.”

“Hey, I’m pretty sure my gramps was a regular at that joint.” Ruby laughs. “Some of those guys actually
were
around during prohibition.”

“I’ve had a couple of mint juleps with your grandpa, and I can vouch for his drinking capabilities,” Avery says. “The guy can sure hold his liquor.”

Ruby nods. “I bet he’d have good ideas for how to make the bar feel like a real speakeasy, too. Don’t you think, Shelby? You’ve met him too.”

Shelby blinks, startled at the sound of her own name. Clearly she’s barely following the conversation. “Your grandpa? Sweet old man.”

Sweet. Except this whole idea sounds a bit pie-in-the-sky to me. I side-eye Jackson. “Aren’t you guys worried that we’re stretching ourselves thin here? With Ryder still overseeing fight nights and Cash managing both the Library and Altitude, we’ve got great people managing the other bars, but who’s going to be the face of this new enterprise? I can’t exactly commit to being around seventy percent of the year, as you all know.”

Ryder shakes his head. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe we’ll hire someone new. But growth was always part of our vision.”

“And anyway we’ve got plenty of regulars who I’m sure would kill for a chance to work in a new joint if we opened one.” Cash emphasizes his point by heaping a second helping of ribs onto his plate. “We could even sell some of my cordials and bitters under the table in the new bar.”

“A bona fide prohibition ring.” Savannah glances back and forth between me and Jackson.

Shelby bends her head even deeper over her plate, studiously avoiding all of our eyes. I’m a little ticked she doesn’t jump into the fray on my side. She’s a businesswoman, surely she can see why I wouldn’t want to go into anything half-cocked.

Cash, Ryder, and Jackson have clearly put a lot of thought into this. They must’ve been talking about it for months now. Would it have killed them to consult me? I know when I was still up in New York, they just saw me as the long-distance vending machine, since I wasn’t here for the day-to-day business problems. But now that I’m living down here most of the time?

Hell, Jackson could have at least hinted at this plan when he stopped by in Orlando. Instead we spent our one hour together at the bar talking about baseball and his building projects. Nothing about our actual joint project. Does Parker even know yet?

As part-owner I should be entitled to a vote—or at the least an opportunity to express myself. But it seems like the vote’s already taken place.

“Well, I know no one asked for my opinion—thanks, by the way—but, honestly? I think it sounds a little pretentious. It’s Atlanta we’re talking about here, not Brooklyn. Speakeasies are already on their way out in New York, I doubt they’d catch on down here.”

Savannah clears her throat, stands and leans her hands on Cash’s shoulders. “You’re right, this isn’t New York. Maybe you should listen to us, we’re the ones who live here. And we all love the concept.” She traces a finger over Cash’s ear absently. “Secret bars are sexy. People love the illicit thrill of knowing that they’re doing something they shouldn’t.”

“Not exactly illicit, though, since we’re not in prohibition anymore,” I point out. “Lately it’s become a cheap gambit to make bars that don’t have anything better to offer seem cooler than they really are.”

I feel a kick in my shins under the table and look up to find Shelby glaring at me. I guess for once the two siblings are on the same page. Jackson drops his latest rib, licked clean to the bone, onto the stack on his plate and wipes his hands on his napkin. “Since when are you interested in the decision-making, Knox? So far, you’ve seemed content just swinging by now and then for some free drinks—and enjoying your share of the proceeds, of course. You haven’t wanted to participate in our daily decisions before. Why now?”

Cassie jumps out of her seat to grab a fresh round of beers from the cooler, setting each one in front of us with a loud clunk, probably to try and break down the awkward tension in the air. “Hey, everyone, let’s look at the big picture here,” she says. “We’re able to think about this new venture because we’ve done great with everything you’ve already created. Don’t ruin a good thing. Personally, I think the bar is a great idea. Maybe a little cutting-edge for the Atlanta nightlife scene, but somebody’s gotta be out there trying new things.”

I tip my beer at her in reply, but my eyes never leave Jackson. “Maybe I’d be interested in the decision-making if anyone bothered to tell me there was a decision to be made.”

I’m not sure why I’m busting Jackson’s balls. Yeah, he could have mentioned this earlier. But he’s not the only one who’s been keeping secrets. “Look. Jackson, you guys know the business better than I do. I don’t think cocktail bars are really in our repertoire, but if you wanna try something new, far be it from me to stop you. Just maybe ask me what I think before you’re already prepping to sign a lease next time? I’m sure Parker wants to know too.”

“Fair point.” He tips his beer at me in reply, before taking a long swig. “Knox, I promise I’ll tell both of you when we’re thinking about taking any big new steps. Okay?”

Well shit. Now I feel like an asshole. I can’t help it—my gaze darts to Shelby before I can reply.

She’s still bent over her mostly-full plate, one hand grasped around her wine glass like she’d like to strangle it. Probably she’s imagining the wine glass is me. “Okay,” I hear myself tell him. But I can’t stop thinking about what I already should have said to him. To all my friends.

Welcome home, Knox. Time to face the music.

“
S
o
, is picking random fights with Jackson your way of prepping him for the big talk?” Shelby stands by the front door with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for Ruby to finish finding all of her stuff. How the girl manages to spread the contents of her purse so far over the course of a single afternoon meal is beyond me, but at least it gives us a little time to talk.