KNOT: A Wake Family Novel

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Authors: M. Mabie
Tags: Book One, A Wake Family Novel
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the sofa. His jacket unbuttoned.
    I needed a cab, but I was sure I didn’t need to share one with him. I thought about walking out, but there was a part of me that must have been out of her mind, because I asked, “Where are you headed?”
    He gave me a hellish grin and rose to his feet. “Near North and Clybourn,” he answered.
    “Well, I don’t know my way around here very well. I’m going to North Racine Avenue. Is it even practical to share?”
    Say no.
    “Probably not,” he said and walked closer. It didn’t seem to bother him.
    “I’m not going home with you,” I blurted as he came to my side. I was tired, and my defenses were low, but I couldn’t avoid the whoosh I felt in my belly from his nearness. He was so damn handsome.
    “I didn’t ask you to. I asked you to share a cab.”
    Technicality .
    “Are you sure that’s what you meant?”
    He tipped his head to the side as if to beg me for a little more credit than what I gave him. “I always say what I mean.”
    “Then I’ll share a cab with you, but it’s dropping you off first.”
    I regretted the decision, but it was made before I’d given it enough thought. I needed a cab, and he was so nice to look at.
    “Good, I’ll get one for us. It’s cold. Stay right here.”
    He was so bossy, but I didn’t have it in me to argue just for the sake of hearing my voice. “Fine. I’ll wait by the door,” I agreed. Besides, with him outside, I wouldn’t have to be so close to him. The more distance, the better.
    I was already half turned on by the thoughts I’d had of him, and of Janel and Ives, and the four of us.
    He walked out, and I watched as he sauntered to the curb, lifting his large hand in the air.
    What a shame.
    The more I watched, the more I rounded off his edges. He wasn’t that bad; he was just intense.
    I was new in the city, and I needed to chill-out. Not everyone was going to be like me. I could always use a friend, or at the very least a new business acquaintance. If I got the job, I’d need to know people.
    I reminded myself to have a little more patience and to think about meeting new people as an opportunity—not the burden that I’d treated him as.
    Who knew? Maybe Reagan and I could be friends in some capacity.
    Maybe under that ego was a good guy.
    I watched as a yellow car pulled up, and he turned back to the door to get my attention, smiling as he waved me out to the taxi he’d hailed for us to share.
    Despite myself, I gave him a little smile in return. It was a nice thing to do, and when I stepped out into the perfectly brisk night air, I really appreciated the gesture.
    Reagan held the door open for me, and I climbed in. When he was inside, he clapped and rubbed his hands together to warm them up.
    It was February, and despite the deceptive sun that day, it was frigid outside of the warm taxi.
    “Thank you,” I said.
    “You’re welcome,” he said politely. I liked the way his voice sounded when he was being kind.
    The car took off slowly into traffic.
    “Don’t you need to tell him where you’re going?” I finally asked, lost in my thoughts.
    He sat back and got more comfortable, then replied, “I already did.”
    “Oh. Well, you were right, it’s colder out than I thought.”
    As the street lights blinked across his face, I saw again something rise to the surface in his eyes.
    “I like it when you agree with me.”
    I quietly laughed. He was something else.
    “I’m sure you do,” I attempted to joke back.
    “So you’re not from the city?”
    “No. Just in town for a few days, helping with the event. Visiting friends.”
    “I see. Where are you from?”
    Where was I from?
    “I live in Los Angeles, but I’m hopefully moving.”
    At times, I’d look over at him, but mostly I looked forward at where we were going and tried to commit the landmarks to memory.
    At the mention of moving, he turned his head to face mine, “Relocating here?”
    “Possibly,” I answered.
    He sort of pivoted in his

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