I want all that now. Not in eleven weeks or even in an hour.
Right. Fucking. Now.
And I’m about to go get it when I see the redhead standing beside him. Danielle bites her lip, leaning into him. When she turns her head, her gaze locks with mine. She smiles at me and reaches up, running her fingers through Knox’s hair, and my knuckles turn white as I grip the tray, a familiar jealousy burning through me. Only this time, I can do something about it.
“She’s really going for it, huh?” Cole says from beside me.
Knox ducks his head away from Danielle, saying something that makes her giggle, and I hand the tray back to Cole.
“Promise not to hate me if I’m sleeping with the boss?” I ask, untying the strings from around my waist.
“If I was going to hate you, it would be over you not telling me your mom is marrying Mr. Cabot.”
My gaze swings up, wide when it meets his. “How do you…”
“I covered a shift for room service over the weekend,” he says matter-of-factly. “When I went to the owner’s room and my high school art teacher answered, wearing a diamond that could support a small country, I put two and two together.”
“And you didn’t call me out on it?”
He shrugs, unbothered. “You’ve been a little busy dealing with shit.”
Cole tips his head to the bar, and I look back at Knox as he stands. Danielle’s right at his side, hanging on him, and I sigh.
“Well, since you don’t hate me, enjoy the show.”
I shove my apron at Cole and start toward the bar.
Enough is e-fucking-nough. I’ve been propositioned, treated like shit, and groped already today. But I will not watch this bitch put her fucking hands on him.
Chapter Eighteen
Knox
We were only on the seventh hole when Kennedy texted to say Leighton was looking for me. My entire body went numb seeing her name on the screen, and all I could think about was how long it would be until I saw the rest of her.
It all clicked into place then, and any doubt I had vanished on the putting green.
I’ve survived a long ass time without Leighton. Wanting her more than air and not having her. One more fucking summer compared to all that is nothing.
And come fall, none of this shit will matter anymore.
Just her and me.
See, when Leighton and Sidney were talking about her going to school the other morning, I was actually ready for my old man to turn it around on me. I waited for him to push, to force the subject with me.
The truth is, I was more than a little open to the discussion of college. I only avoided it so long to piss him off and remind him of how I have no interest in taking over his resorts and hotels. In fact, I accepted a school’s offer last month before their deadline passed.
I added it to my application pile after Christmas. Dad texted pictures from the holidays with Leighton and Sidney, wanting my sister and me to feel like part of the family even though we stayed in New York again. Kennedy because Seaside Heights has nothing she wants out of life other than Daddy, and I couldn’t stand the idea of five days with Leighton and then five months without.
One of the pictures was the three of them celebrating Leighton’s early acceptance to Princeton. My letter came in the spring. And on the course this afternoon, I told dad I’m planning to go. Now I need to tell Leighton. Tell her about Princeton. Tell her I’ll wait for her. Tell her she has all of me. Whatever the fuck she wants, I’ll say it as long as in the end it’s the two of us.
And I swear, I’ll ruin anyone who tries to screw it up—myself included.
I still haven’t seen Leighton show up for her shift. It’s not scheduled to start for another few minutes, so I wouldn’t consider it shocking for anyone else. Leighton, however, always shows up early. Unless I’m getting her off in a maintenance closet.
Danielle’s still buzzing around even though her replacement showed up. Honestly, I would’ve fired her already, but if Leighton wants me to sell the idea we’re not together, having an ivy around is the best way—make it the ivy saying we’re together, and it should speed up the process.
She got bold as fuck a minute ago, sliding her hand into my hair. I dodged away from her and reminded her I’d fire her, which she laughed off.
As she hops onto the stool next to me, tossing her apron on the bar behind us, I finally spot Leighton. I saw her a few hours ago, but my pulse races like it’s been weeks, the world around me already fuzzing at the edges, focusing in on her.
“Hey, wait.”
Danielle puts her hand on my shoulder when I stand, and I turn around to glare at her. It falls away, but she slides off her stool, stepping closer to blink up at me through her lashes.
“We never took that dip in your pool last weekend. I don’t work again until tomorrow, so we could…” She trails off, her eyes diverting to the side. “Can I help you?”
“You can fuck off,” Leighton answers.
One side of my mouth perks up at the sound of her voice. A part of my chest has ached since the last time I heard it, and all at once, it soothes.
Shit, I’ve got it bad.
I turn to face her, already forgetting Danielle hovering beside me. It quickly becomes clear, I’m the only one forgetting her, though. Leighton has a scowl set on the ivy, only cutting away for a second to meet my eyes before zeroing in again.
“Oh, sweetie,” Danielle coos, loud enough to draw attention. “Are you here to take our drink order?”
Leighton’s fists clench at her sides when the redhead slips her hand onto my arm. I jerk it away, glaring the reminder I’ll fire her, but she’s not paying attention to me.
“No, sweetie,” Leighton mocks. “I’m here to tell you to keep your skanky hands off what doesn’t belong to you.”
My eyebrow shoots up, but again, no one gives a fuck about my reaction. These two are on a collision course, and as much as I’d love to tell Danielle to run along, I am not needed, so I cross my arms and let Leighton handle her shit.
“Please tell me you’re not still trying to make this happen.” Danielle glances to make sure she has an audience, something she’ll regret soon enough. “I mean, there’s desperate, and then there’s just plain sad, honey.”
She pouts out her lip, but Leighton’s not the least bit fazed.
“Are you finished yet?” Leighton asks coolly. “Because I’m still waiting for you to fuck off.”
I chuckle, pretty fucking in love with this Leighton. Not that that’s the least bit surprising given I’m pretty fucking in love with every aspect of this woman. The fiery, take-no-shit version of her, though? By far my favorite.
But while I’m infatuated, Danielle prickles at the response, realizing the audience she assembled is now watching a local chick in a sand polo tell her to fuck off.
“Am I finished?” she hisses, taking a step forward. “No, I’m not even close to being—”