Chapter 36: A Terrible Actress

Ten minutes later, we arrived at The Blue Anchor, an upscale waterfront steakhouse glowing with amber lanterns and decorated with warm wood and gold accents.

The moment Knox pushed open the entrance door, holding it for me, I felt the immediate shift in the room’s atmosphere.

Saturday night at The Blue Anchor was prime territory for Briar’s elite. Several boosters in expensive suits, alumni, and two athletic board members sitting near the main bar turned their heads.

Knox didn’t hesitate.

Before I could even adjust my purse strap, he reached down and smoothly slid his large, calloused hand into mine, his fingers lacing tightly through mine in a firm, possessive grip that sent a sudden jolt straight up my arm.

"Smile, Bennett," Knox murmured under his breath as the hostess guided us toward a secluded leather booth near the back window. "You’re supposed to be crazy about me."

"I’m a terrible actress," I whispered back through a tight smile.

"You did pretty well on my bed on Friday night," Knox whispered back smoothly, a wicked smirk curving his lips.

My face flamed bright red. I pinched the back of his hand hard before we slid into the booth opposite each other.

The waiter set two heavy leather-bound menus on the table. "Good evening, Mr. Sheridan. What can I get started for you two?"

"Two sparkling waters with lime," Knox answered immediately without touching his menu. He gestured casually toward me. "And bring us the porterhouse for two, medium-rare, with the roasted potatoes."

I blinked, looking up at him across the candlelit table. "What a gentleman. You didn’t even ask what I wanted."

"You like steak and potatoes, Bennett," Knox said coolly, leaning back against the leather cushion. "And you hate reading long menus when you’re hungry."

"I like making my own choices, Sheridan," I replied, opening my menu anyway to look down at the gold lettering under the amber lamp.

"Then choose to agree with me," Knox said with a faint, arrogant glint in his eyes as he watched me over the flickering candle.

For the next forty minutes, our "public date" was a masterclass in high-tension warfare, cleverly disguised as romance.

To the rest of the restaurant, we looked like a gorgeous, intense college couple: Knox leaning across the table, his eyes locked on mine, occasionally reaching out to touch my hand whenever a booster walked past our booth.

But every word out of our mouths was sharp banter.

"You’re staring, Sheridan," I said, cutting into a piece of steak.

"I’m keeping up appearances, Bookworm," Knox replied smoothly, taking a slow sip of his water. "Besides, green suits you."

My heart gave an annoying, traitorous flutter against my ribs, but I forced a scoff. "Flattery isn’t in your contract."

"Consider it a bonus," Knox murmured.

As the waiter cleared our steak plates, Knox suddenly slid out of his side of the leather booth.

I raised an eyebrow, expecting him to head for the restroom, but instead he walked around the table and slid right into the bench right beside me.

His broad frame filled the space, and as his shoulder brushed against mine, the scent of his cologne and cedar enveloped me completely.

"What are you doing?" I asked, pulling back slightly against the leather cushion. "There’s a whole bench over there."

"Taking a picture," Knox said casually, pulling his phone out of his leather jacket pocket.

"A picture?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. "Is that really necessary?"

"Extremely," Knox replied, unlocking his screen and opening the camera app. "I haven’t posted a single girl on my feed in three years, Bennett. If I post a photo of us sitting together right now, the rumor mill doesn’t just die... it explodes. Every student on campus will see it by midnight."

My throat went dry. "I don’t like taking photos, Sheridan."

"Tough," Knox murmured. He reached out, his long arm sliding over the back of the leather bench behind my shoulders, pulling me an inch closer to his side. "Come here."

"Sheridan, stop," I whispered, my cheeks heating up as he lifted the phone. "I look stiff."

"Because you’re sitting there like a wooden board," Knox scoffed softly into my ear, his breath warm against my neck, sending a violent shiver down my spine. "Relax, Bookworm. Lean in and smile like you actually enjoy my presence."

"I don’t enjoy your presence," I hissed through a fake, brilliant smile as he angled the lens toward us.

"Liar," Knox growled softly.

Just before he tapped the shutter, Knox turned his head slightly toward me, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he whispered, "Think about box springs, Bennett."

"You asshole!" I gasped out loud, bursting into a sudden, genuine laugh as I turned my head to glare at him.

Snap.

Knox tapped the screen twice, capturing the exact moment I was looking up at him with wide, laughing eyes, while he looked down at me with a slow, devastatingly handsome smirk.

He held the phone out so I could see the screen.

I hated to admit it, but the photo was undeniable. The lighting from the amber lanterns cast a soft glow over the emerald green of my sweater and the dark leather of his jacket, making us look breathless, and completely wrapped up in each other.

"See?" Knox said smoothly, tapping the post button. "Natural."

Before I could reply, a loud, deep voice echoed from the aisle behind us.

"Knox! Good evening."

I turned my head to see an older man in a tailored charcoal suit walking toward our booth. With his silver hair and stern blue eyes, he looked exactly like Brad and Vanessa Orwell. Two senior members of the Briar Athletic Boosters Board walked right beside him.

Knox didn’t move his arm. If anything, his grip tightened subtly against my shoulder as he straightened and looked up.

"Mr. Orwell," he said with a calm, measured tone.

"Good to see you out, son," Harold Orwell said, stopping right beside our booth. "I ran into your father at the country club this morning. He mentioned you were working to lock in your midterm eligibility... wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight."

"Taking a break before our next road trip, Mr. Orwell," Knox replied coolly, his face completely unbothered.

Harold’s eyes shifted to me, scanning my face, my sweater, and my presence next to Knox.

"Vanessa also mentioned you’ve been quite busy lately, Knox," Harold continued. "Garrison tolerates your ice time as long as your grades stay up, but the Boosters Board needs our captain sharp. Garrison and I have a major land development agreement finalizing next month, and Briar’s athletic standing is central to that momentum."

The message behind his words was crystal clear: Harold was checking if Knox was serious about me, or if Knox was stepping out of line from what his family expected.

My stomach did a tight, nervous flip.

Knox didn’t flinch under Harold’s heavy stare. He sat back slightly, looking up at Harold with confidence.

"My eligibility is completely under control, Mr. Orwell," Knox said smoothly.

Then, he reached down with his free hand, sliding his fingers firmly over mine where they rested on the table.

He leaned closer under the amber lights, his eyes burning into mine. His voice dropped to a low, rough whisper that made my heart hammer against my ribs: "Look like you’re madly in love with me, Bookworm."

Before I could even process the command, Knox lifted his hand, his calloused fingers sliding gently up my neck to rest softly against my jaw, tilting my face toward his.

And right there, in front of Harold Orwell and the athletic boosters, Knox leaned down and pressed a slow, firm, lingering kiss directly to my lips.

My breath caught entirely in my chest. The warmth of his lips, the scent of clean cedar, and the sheer electricity of his mouth against mine wiped every coherent thought straight out of my head for a split second.

When he finally pulled back a fraction of an inch, his thumb gently caressed my cheekbone before he turned his head back toward Harold. "And Nora is my priority."

Harold stared at the two of us for three long seconds. The calculating edge in his eyes softened slightly, replaced by a tight, defeated nod.

"Good to hear, Knox," Harold said flatly. "Enjoy your dinner, quiet couple."

Harold and the boosters turned, walking off toward the private dining room.

The moment they were out of sight, Knox lowered his hand from my jaw, but he didn’t move away. He stayed sitting right beside me in the booth, watching my flushed, breathless face with a quiet, dangerous intensity.

My heart was beating so hard against my ribs I was certain he could hear it.

"You..." I stammered as I protested in whispers. "You didn’t have to kiss me."

Knox leaned in an inch closer, his wicked smirk returning. "Contract compliance, Bookworm. We do whatever it takes to win."