The Perfect Spiral (by Ashley Constantine) novel Chapter 2

The roar of an engine snapped me out of my daze. A sleek, midnight-blue sports car pulled up to the curb. The door swung open, and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out.

Knox.

He looked like he’d stepped straight off one of the magazine covers I’d seen him on—six-foot-five and powerful, with a chiseled jaw, piercing blue eyes, and a perfectly tousled head of dark brown hair. His shirt clung to his muscular chest, and his jeans looked like they’d been custom-made to fit every inch of his sculpted frame. Even in my heartbreak, his handsomeness stunned me.

He shut the car door and strode toward me, fast and determined.

“Knox,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “you didn’t have to—”

He cut me off by pulling me into his arms. One hand cradled the back of my head, the other curled around my waist, anchoring me to something solid and safe. How could someone so strong be so gentle?

I buried my face into his chest, tears soaking into the soft fabric of his shirt, and let the weight of it all finally go.

“I caught… h-him… cheating,” I managed to hiccup out against his chest.

Knox gently pulled back just enough to look into my face, his brows knit with concern. “Who was it, Alex? Who cheated on you?”

His name caught in my throat. “Andrew,” I said finally. “We’d been dating for two years. He was pre-med, brilliant, charming… my dream guy.”

Knox’s jaw clenched. “Doesn’t sound like much of a dream to me.”

I let out a shaky breath. “He was. At least, I thought he was. Till I saw that bimbo bouncing up and down on his dick.”

Knox let out a low laugh. “You always had a way with words.” Then he locked his gaze on mine and his blue eyes made me forget how to breathe. “Look, this guy’s obviously not as brilliant as he seemed if he cheated on you.

His voice was steady, but there was something underneath it. Protective. Angry. Like he wanted to fix it.

I wiped my face and sniffled, managing a small, “Thank you, Knox.” I tilted my head. “Why are you even in L.A.? I thought you were on the East Coast.”

“Photo shoot,” he said with a shrug, like it was the most mundane thing in the world. “Some new ad campaign for a sports drink, I don’t know. The marketing people handle all that stuff. I just show up, flex a little, try not to look too sweaty.”

I raised an eyebrow. The cocky, self-assured Knox I remembered from when we were kids was back.

He grinned. “Oh, and I’ve got a dinner tonight with a pop star who’s apparently ‘very into athletes.’ Or so my agent says. Her music sucks, but she’s hot as hell, so why not?”

There he was. The arrogant show-off who used to call me nerdy and compete with me over spelling test scores. Before I could come up with a snarky putdown, I heard a voice shouting for me.

“Alex!”

I knew it was Drew, searching for me.

“That him?” Knox asked, his voice aggressive and protective again.

“Can we go? I really don’t want to face him,” I said.

Knox’s arms loosened around me, and he started to move past me, heading in the direction of Drew’s voice.

I grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “I need to beat the shit out of this guy on your brother’s behalf.”

“Knox, he doesn’t need a beating, please, I just want to go home.”

Drew stumbled around the corner and came to a sudden stop when he spotted us. His face twisted with something like guilt—until his eyes landed on Knox.

“Who the fuck is this?” he snapped, voice hard and rising.

He started to puff himself up, taking a step forward, but when Knox stood to his full height, all six-foot-five inches of him, Drew faltered.

“Wait… you’re—Knox Carter? The quarterback?”

“Sorry, I sign autographs for children, but not man-children,” Knox said with a smirk.

“How do you know him, Alex?” Drew said as he tried to step around Knox, but found himself blocked.

“Old family friend,” Knox said coolly. “Now get out of here.”

Drew’s eyes darted to me. “Alex, what the hell? He’s your bodyguard now? You’re my girlfriend.”

I squared my shoulders and stared him down. “Not anymore.”

Knox stepped forward, the threat in his posture unmistakable. “You heard her.”

Drew stood there, frozen on the sidewalk, his mouth slightly open as Knox took my hand and led me toward his sports car. Every step felt like a silent victory. Knox opened the passenger door and helped me inside with a steady hand on my back.

He walked around to the driver’s side and fired up the engine. I didn’t say a word as we drove away—but I did turn in my seat, roll down the window, and shoot Drew the middle finger without breaking eye contact.