Chapter 46: Worried About Him?

We spent the next hour and a half at the corner booth of Rusty’s Diner, surrounded by empty takeout containers, crumpled napkins, and my array of color-coded highlighters.

For someone who couldn’t handle dense, single-spaced textbook print, Knox Sheridan had a scary fast brain.

Once I translated the fifteen-page corporate case study into visual flowcharts, spatial diagrams, and verbal Q&A cues, he absorbed the complex financial strategies effortlessly.

He didn’t just memorize the concepts; he analyzed them, picking apart the corporate restructuring models with the tactical mind of a captain breaking down game film on a whiteboard.

By nine-thirty, Knox closed the thick spiral notebook and slid it back into his canvas bag.

"I think you actually get it," I said, capping my yellow highlighter and leaning back against the red vinyl booth with a long, tired sigh.

Knox stood up and zipped his dark sweater to his neck. He looked down at me with unreadable eyes. "Because you’re a good teacher, Bennett."

I blinked, my fingers pausing over my pencil case, momentarily caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice.

"Don’t get soft on me now, Sheridan," I recovered quickly, gathering my pens and sliding them into my tote bag. "Go home, get some sleep, and don’t screw this up tomorrow."

A faint, lazy smirk touched the corner of his lips. "See you tomorrow, Nora."

"Goodnight, Knox."

—

Thursday morning was a blur of nervous kinetic energy.

I spent four straight hours sitting through back-to-back macroeconomics and statistics lectures, but I couldn’t focus on a single word the professors were saying. My pen hovered uselessly over my notebook as my mind kept drifting back to the athletic administration building.

By two in the afternoon, I had finalized and submitted my thesis outline draft early, purely to keep my hands busy.

By three-forty-five, I was pacing back and forth across the marble floor outside the Athletic Administration office, the heels of my boots clicking nervously against the tile.

I pulled out my phone and checked the screen for the tenth time. An hour ago, right before Knox was scheduled to walk into his high-stakes meeting, I had swallowed my pride and sent him a short text: Good luck. You’re going to need it.

He hadn’t replied, which meant he was already sitting inside that intimidating conference room, trapped in front of Coach Brennan, AD Pierce, and three senior members of the academic compliance board.

My whole life felt like it was dangling by a thread over that room.

If Knox failed this exam, his athletic eligibility was dead, my tutoring contract would be cancelled on the spot, and my paycheck would vanish into thin air.

At exactly four-twenty, the double doors at the end of the hall opened.

I froze mid-step as Knox walked out into the hallway. He was wearing a tailored black suit with a white shirt and a dark tie, looking every bit like the high-society heir his father wanted him to be.

In his right hand, he held a single sheet of ivory paper stamped with a bright green compliance seal.

He didn’t look defeated; he looked completely untouchable.

I rushed down the hallway, stopping a few feet in front of him, my chest heaving. "Well?" I demanded, sounding breathless. "What happened?"

Knox looked down at me, a lazy smirk slowly spreading across his face. He held up the sheet so I could see the green stamp. "Well, I didn’t fail. Walked out of there with a solid B-minus."

I let out a massive breath I felt like I had been holding for forty-eight hours, my shoulders slumping with pure relief. "Oh, thank God."

Knox’s eyebrow arched. "Were you actually worried about me, Bennett?"

Without thinking, I reached out and punched his arm hard. "Of course I was worried, you idiot! Your failure drags my job and tutoring reputation down right along with you."

Knox chuckled softly, rubbing his shoulder where I’d hit him, though his eyes glinted with amusement. "Good to know where your priorities are."

He turned and started walking down the quiet corridor toward the back exit near the library study nooks. I fell into step beside him, the adrenaline slowly draining out of my veins, leaving me lightheaded.

When we reached the secluded alcove outside Study Room 4C, Knox stopped and turned around. The arrogant triumph on his face slowly faded, replaced by a focus that made the air between us feel dense.

The quiet hallway went completely still.

"Bennett," Knox said, his voice dropping into a low, raspy tone.

I looked up at him in confusion. "What?"

Knox took a slow breath. He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck, before looking dead into my eyes. For the first time since I had known him, every single layer of his arrogant jock armor was gone.

"What happened on Monday night at the SinBin..." Knox started, holding my gaze. "With that girl up in my room. It was a shitty thing to do. I was pissed off, terrified of looking weak, and acting like a reckless idiot. I’m sorry."

My mouth opened slightly, the words stalling in my throat.

Knox Sheridan... the guy who never backed down, never admitted fault, and never lowered his pride for anyone on campus, was standing in an empty hallway, offering me a sincere, unprompted apology.

The anger and resentment I had been holding onto since Monday night completely dissolved, replaced by something warm in my chest.

"Thank you, Knox," I said quietly. "I appreciate you saying that."

Before Knox could say another word, we heard footsteps echoing from down the corridor.

Coach Brennan rounded the corner holding a thick clipboard, his face lighting up with relief when he spotted Knox.

"There he is!" Brennan boomed, clapping Knox hard on the shoulder. "Incredible job in there today, Sheridan! You saved your ass." Brennan then turned his gaze straight onto me. "And Bennett... outstanding work. AD Pierce was so impressed by Knox’s academic turnaround that he just signed off on the travel budget."

I blinked, completely confused. "Travel budget?"

"You’re riding on the team charter to Western State tomorrow," Brennan announced. "Pierce wants our lead academic tutor on the road trip to make sure Sheridan doesn’t slack off before Saturday’s big game. Be at the arena parking lot tomorrow morning at seven sharp."

"Wait... tomorrow?" My jaw dropped. "Coach, I have shifts at Rusty’s Diner this weekend! I can’t just leave!"

"Well, you have enough time to call and get them covered," Brennan said, waving a hand dismissively as he turned back toward his office. "The athletic department will compensate for your lost hourly wages. Seven AM sharp, Bennett. Don’t be late!"

Brennan disappeared around the corner, leaving me standing in the middle of the hallway in absolute shock.

I turned back to look at Knox.

The serious, vulnerable expression from seconds ago had completely vanished. Knox leaned back against the painted wall, crossing his broad arms over his chest as a low, dangerous smirk spread across his lips.

He looked down at me, his eyes dancing with wicked amusement.

"Get ready, babe," Knox murmured in a voice smooth as silk. "We’re going on a road trip."