Chapter 177: Tell Knox?

NORA’S POV

The phone hung limp in my hand, the harsh buzz of the dial tone humming against my ear.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

Across the room, the crunch of popcorn stopped.

Priya slowly lowered her bowl to the coffee table, locking her sharp gaze on my face. The playful smirk she’d worn thirty seconds ago vanished, replaced by the razor-edged scrutiny of a future trial attorney.

"Bennett," Priya said, leaning forward on the futon. "You look like someone just indicted your mother. What did she say?"

I lowered the phone to my lap, my fingers trembling slightly. "She said Knox won’t be the only athlete at the table."

Priya blinked, her brows knitting together. "So? Your mom invited a track star from your old high school? Why are you pale as a sheet?"

"She said our other guest plays college hockey," I whispered, the words tasting like ash on my tongue.

For two seconds, Priya just stared at me.

Then, the color drained completely from her golden-brown skin. Her jaw unhinged.

"No," Priya breathed, her eyes widening in pure horror. "Tell me you’re joking. There is only one college hockey player from Oakhaven... at least that we all know of."

"I know."

"Drew Miller?!" Priya shrieked, scrambling up from the cushions so fast she knocked her fleece blanket onto the floor. "Your mother invited Drew Miller to Thanksgiving dinner?!"

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" I hissed, gesturing frantically toward the door.

"Keep my voice down?!" Priya stage-whispered, pacing the narrow space between the futon and her desk. "Nora, you are bringing Knox Sheridan to your house. Knox Sheridan! The man who almost tackled Drew through the arena glass, kissed you on national television, and claimed you in front of three thousand screaming fans!"

"I know!" I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, a frantic knot twisting in my stomach. "Mom doesn’t know about any of that, Priya. She doesn’t know Drew plays for State. She doesn’t know about the dock kiss. She thinks Drew is just our sweet hometown neighbor who helped bake sourdough when her back gave out!"

Priya stopped pacing, pointing a manicured finger at me. "Call her back. Right now. Tell her Knox has an airborne allergy to Drew Miller."

"I can’t do that!" I groaned, dropping my hands. "If I call Mom and demand she uninvite Drew, she’s going to ask why. Drew and his uncle don’t have family in town for the holiday. Mom would think I’ve turned into an arrogant monster who kicks lonely neighbors off her porch."

Priya grimaced, pressing her fingers to her temples. "She’s right. Legally and morally, your mom is a saint. Narratively? You are walking straight into a nuclear test site."

She dropped back onto the futon, staring at me with genuine dread. "Are you going to tell Knox?"

The question hung in the air like a lead weight.

I looked down at the dark screen of my phone.

Tell Knox? Tell the boy who just looked at me in the kitchen with raw, stripped-bare eyes and confessed how terrifying it was to stand alone in his own life?

Knox had walked away from everything for me. He was facing the total destruction of his family, his inheritance, and his father’s wrath.

If I told him Drew Miller was sitting at my mother’s table, his pride would either force him to cancel, or he’d show up ready to throw hands before the turkey was even carved.

"No," I said quietly, shaking my head. "He’s dealing with enough with practice and film review. I can’t dump this on his head tonight."

"Nora..." Priya warned softly.

"I’ll handle it," I insisted, though my voice sounded far braver than I felt. "Drew isn’t an idiot. If Knox and I show up together, Drew will keep his mouth shut out of common decency. We just have to survive two hours of dinner."

Priya looked at me for a long moment, then shook her head with a rueful sigh. "I will pray for your soul, Bennett. I truly will."

The radiator clanked against the wall, hissing warm steam into the room.

I changed into my flannel pajama pants, washed my face at the sink, and crawled under the comforter. Exhaustion dragged at my limbs, but my mind was an endless, chaotic loop of disaster scenarios.

Just as I pulled the blanket to my chin, my phone vibrated against the nightstand.

I snatched it up.

Knox: Still awake, Bookworm?

A faint, involuntary smile pulled at my lips, soothing the sharp edges of my anxiety.

Nora: Just turned off the lamp. Are you back at the SinBin?

Knox: Just parked. Jake and Bear are on the living room rug watching videos of turkey deep-fryer explosions. Bear is taking notes on thermal velocity.

I smothered a laugh against my pillow.

Nora: Tell them if they burn the street down, they aren’t invited to Oakhaven for Christmas.

Knox: I won’t tell them shit. Let natural selection take its course.

I chuckled, staring at the screen as three little typing bubbles danced.

Knox: What are you wearing?

My breath caught in my throat. Heat instantly flooded my cheeks, spreading down my neck.

Nora: Sheridan.

Knox: It’s an innocent question, Bennett.

Nora: You don’t have an innocent bone in your six-foot-three body. Flannel pajama pants and an old gray t-shirt. Satisfied?

Knox: Disappointed.

Nora: Oh? And what was I supposed to be wearing?

Knox: My hoodie. Or nothing at all.

A shiver danced straight down my spine. I bit my lower lip, turning onto my stomach and clutching the phone against the mattress. I was still thinking of a response when his next message came in.

Knox: Bed feels empty without you in it. If you were here right now, those flannel pants wouldn’t have lasted two minutes.

My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, a delicious, coiling pulse of heat settling low in my stomach.

Nora: You have early morning skate in seven hours, Captain. Focus on your hockey.

Knox: Can’t. Currently thinking about what you sound like when I wake you up.

Nora: Knox! Go to sleep before you get yourself a penalty.

Knox: Only if you promise to send a picture of when you wake.

Nora: Deal. Now go to sleep.

Knox: Go to sleep, Bennett. You have an opening shift tomorrow.

Nora: Don’t let Brennan skate your legs off.

Knox: See you tomorrow at the diner, Nora.

I stared at his final message, clutching the phone to my chest in the dark. The steady warmth of his name wrapped around me, pushing back the cold fear.

We had tomorrow to get through first.

Wednesday.