“Do you have anything to say?” Edie, with her no-bullshit approach, speared Knight with a look, her utensils clattering to her plate.

“Plenty, Mrs. Rexroth. I have plenty of things to say,” he chirped.

I knew, even though he could hide the signs from others, he was drunk. Again. Knight had always been careful with alcohol, at least up until Vaughn’s party, so this was alarming.

Then again, I hadn’t been here for a few months. Maybe this was his new normal?

“You’re walking on thin ice,” Dean warned in front of all of us, which I knew would only push Knight over the edge. He was a carbon copy of his father. When pushed, he pressed harder.

Knight smiled, tossing a piece of roasted yam into his mouth and chewing. “I’ve been good at breaking things lately. One more layer isn’t going to make any difference.”

“Okay, now,” Emilia’s voice rang out over what was beginning to sound a lot like a fight between Knight and everyone else at the table. “Change of subject. Are you guys going to do something interesting before Luna goes back to college?” She looked between me, Knight, and Vaughn.

I wanted to die right there and then. Emilia obviously hadn’t paid attention to the general mood. Knight snorted out a laugh and shook his head. Frowning, I turned around to face him. I was reaching my tipping point, but I really, really, really didn’t want to ruin it for everyone else.

He surprised me by looking directly at me for the first time in four days.

My eyes told him to shut up.

Honestly? My mouth almost did, too.

“Oh, look. Luna’s puppy eyes. My favorite guilt trip.” He smirked, turning around and addressing the entire table. “To your question, Aunt Emilia, I’m not sure if I’m going to do something nice before Luna’s departure, but I sure as hell know Luna did something nice this past weekend. So nice, in fact, that her partner thanked her for the precious gift. She’s always been charitable, this one.”

I choked on my water, trying to cough out the liquid that slipped through the wrong pipe.

Now all the utensils at the table dropped in unison. Someone gasped. A chair scraped back, and I realized it was my father who’d stood up. Edie shot up right after him, clutching his shoulder in warning.

Baron Spencer leaned back in his seat at the head of the table. “Boy. Excuse yourself right now before your stupid jeans aren’t the only thing that’s distressed about you.”

“Happily, Uncle Vicious.” Knight smiled, throwing his uncle’s dodgy reputation back at them before standing up and strolling toward the stairs.

My father made a move to follow Knight at the same time Dean did, but my legs willed themselves to push me up and raise my open palm in warning. I needed to speak to him. Alone.

“I’m going to kill him,” Dad hissed, his voice so full of power and disdain, I wondered what kind of man he’d been when he was Knight’s age.

It hurt that I couldn’t even look him in the eye when he said that, because all I could think of was that he knew I’d had sex.

“Be my guest,” I mouthed. “But first, let me deal with him.”

I stalked up toward Knight, trying to digest what had happened at the table. He’d basically told our entire extended circle that I’d slept with someone. He’d ratted me out. I moved up the stairs and through the door of the media room, which he’d left open, knowing I was following him.

He laughed bitterly, walking over to the bar by the window and plucking a bottle of water from a mini fridge. I caught him before he had the chance to unscrew the cap, spinning him in place by his shoulder so he faced me. I started signing to him with my hands, but he captured both my wrists, shocking me as he backed me against the wall until my spine hit it lightly, his eyes completely dead.

I was barely able to hold in my gasp. Knight had never touched me in a way that wasn’t warm, fuzzy, and fully consensual. His smile told me he’d figured my mind couldn’t wrap around this new way of touching, and we were now playing by different rules. His eyes were as red as mine—he obviously hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep, either—but it was everything else about him I couldn’t read. I realized it didn’t matter if it was fair or not; Knight wasn’t faking the pain. He was devastated, and I couldn’t deny his feelings, no matter how hypocritical it was of him to act on them.

The heart doesn’t ask for permission to feel things. It simply feels.

“Now, now, Moonshine. You’re not like your little boyfriend, Josh Cooper. You have vocal cords, and if you’re too pussy to use them, you obviously don’t want to patch shit up badly enough.”