Neon & Nets (Venom Next Gen #1)

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Sofia

“Hey, babe.” Knight’s lips brush my cheek. “I need to head out soon.”

I blink against the bright light spilling in through the bedroom window. “What time is it?” I mumble.

“It’s a little after ten-thirty.” Knight runs a hand along my arm.

I sit up, blinking sleep from my eyes. “What? I slept in again!”

“You seemed like you needed it.” Knight smiles. He’s already dressed, which only makes me feel worse. How many hours did he spend tiptoeing around the house while I slept my way through the morning?

“Oh my gosh.” I clutch the sheets around me and search the room for my clothes. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine,” he assures me. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I have an appointment at eleven, and I didn’t want you to wake up alone. Take your time.” He hesitates. “I could give you one of the spare keys, if you want? So that you can lock up, if you want to take a shower or something?”

“No, I’m good, I’m good.” I slide out of bed, wearing his sheet like a toga. Knight already laid out my clothes from last night on the bedside table, neatly folded and ready for me. I scoop them up with one arm and dart for the bathroom. “Give me five minutes and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No rush, babe. ”

Despite my best efforts, it’s a solid ten minutes before I’m finally heading out the door of the townhouse. I keep apologizing, and Knight keeps telling me it’s not a big deal. He kisses me goodbye with one last promise to come over tonight after my live. At least there’s a cute coffee shop just down the street, so after we part ways I can drown my shame in cappuccino and the best almond croissants I’ve ever had in my life.

I could get used to living here. Knight’s so lucky that he’s able to afford a place like this. Maybe one day, wherever I end up living after grad school, I’ll get that lucky, too.

* * *

I’d like to keep this walk of shame private, so when I get home, I sneak through the back gate rather than walking through the house. I’m almost clear of the pool deck when my brother Arturo pops his head over the low wall at the back of the yard.

“Hey, Sofia!” he calls. “Where were you this morning?”

Just because I hoped to avoid this conversation doesn’t mean I’m unprepared. I hold up my paper coffee cup and a paper bag full of pastries as evidence. “I was getting breakfast?”

“Is that so?” Dad’s head pops up next to my brother’s. He grins at me. “That is funny, I did not hear you leave this morning… or come home last night.”

“You didn’t?” I try to look innocent, which is harder than it sounds given that my pussy still aches from last night. After we went back to bed, Knight kept me up until the wee hours of the morning. It was like he couldn’t get enough. But I would rather eat Tide Pods than have that conversation with my dad, and the fact that Arturo’s here, too? Hell, no. “That’s funny, because I left the jewelry expo before five… maybe you missed me.” Before anyone can call my bluff, I take a few steps closer. “What ar e you guys doing, anyway?”

“Landscaping,” Arturo says. “For the tortoise.”

Dad nods. “We are planting cactuses for shade and ambiance.”

“Cacti,” Arturo corrects.

“What?” Dad wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Cacti? Are you sure?”

My distraction has worked perfectly. I beam at them and set my bag of pastries on the stone wall around the tortoise habitat. “When you get hungry, I brought you these.”

“Ooh.” Dad reaches for the bag and opens it. Even from a few paces away, I can smell the butter and sugar wafting free of the paper. “These smell wonderful, principessa .”

“I want one.” Arturo holds out a grubby hand.

Dad immediately crinkles the bag shut again. “After our work is done, you will wash your hands, and then you can have one.”

Arturo groans, and I leave them to bicker over Dad’s arbitrary rules. When I was younger, I used to resent my brothers for taking up so much of our parents’ time and attention after they were born. These days, it’s nice to see Arturo spend time alone with Mom and Dad. I’m pretty sure he’s more emotionally mature and outgoing than I was at his age. Enzo, the middle child, definitely got the short end of the stick. But unlike Dad, he’s an amazing hockey player, so I know they’re both super proud of him for how dedicated he is to honing his skills.

I head inside to make some lunch and get a few hours of work done on my thesis. First-hand anecdotal evidence isn’t going to be enough to get me through this project, so I spend more of that time online reading through blogs, social media posts, and other ephemera in search of more material. I strike gold when I find an archive of digitized diaries and letters from the 1870s, in which ye olden women complain about their would-be paramours. That’s right: I found a fresh source of vintage icks. I’m giddy with excitement. I can’t wait to tell Knight all about how some chick named Cynthia Leland Addison noped out of a shady engagement almost two hundred years ago.

By the time I start my live jewelry-making session at six o’clock, I’m giddy with success. My kitty received more attention than she ever knew she needed last night. All told, I’ve had an excellent weekend, if you discount that little hiccup on Friday’s live. I am officially rejuvenated.

“Hey, folks!” I say as I pull up the live event on my gyroscopic camera. I grin and wiggle my fingers at the screen. “I know I promised that we’d finish that beaded collar, but I got to meet the Queen of Bead this weekend—that’s right, Nancy Morrigan!”

People sound off in the comments with heart-eye emojis, golden stars, and a couple of goofy alternatives that probably come from their recently used tab. Otherwise, I don’t know why anyone would send me a cheese emoji right now.

“After visiting the gem show, I’m feeling inspired. So, let’s put that tedious beadwork aside for a moment and try something new.”

I pour out the spoils of our trip to the expo and study my options. “Maybe I can make some earrings with these pearls? I’ve got a few rough gems here, too, so maybe I’ll figure out what to pair with this labradorite…”

mistymntn: Hey again, glad to see you back

BeadyEyedBeeotch: you met Nancy Morrigan I’m sooooo jelly!!!

fillamemorrie: I was at the expo too, my boyfriend is gonna be so mad when he sees how much I spent…

Maybe because it’s a Sunday, the live stays smaller than it did the other night. A few people drop comments about Knight, but most of them are bead people, not hockey fans. It’s the icing on the cupcake of this perfect weekend.

“Which cabochon should I use?” I ask, holding up two stones. “The agate, or the malachite?”

BeadyEyedBeeotch: ag8!

CraftyCathy: Hello again, I like the agate

i_like_big_pucks: I like the green one, but hey… why aren’t you at the fundraiser?

I lower the gems and squint at the screen. “The what, now?”

i_like_big_pucks: the Venom fundraiser

i_like_big_pucks: : big charity event @TheMonaLisa 2night

I take a deep breath and decide to let it slide. Nobody mentioned a charity event tonight. Besides, Knight told me that he wanted to hang out later, so this person must just be confused.

Except that more people are commenting now, some with details about a Venom charity auction, some with links. With a sickening sense of foreboding, I pull the link up on my watch.

Sure enough, there’s a charity event happening at the Mona Lisa. People are already posting photos online, showing the current team members and their plus-ones. Viktor is there with Knova. Tristan is chatting up some girl. Being single and hot, he’s definitely the most desired Venom player right now as far as the female fans go.

And Knight is laughing in his tailored suit that hugs his muscular frame to perfection. He’s surrounded by at least five puck bunnies, and he’s holding a flute of champagne.

Flashes of last night blow through my brain like tiny explosives. He made love to me like he cared about me. Like we have something. My heart stutters, a sudden stop followed by a dramatic heave.

I’m going to be sick.

“My bad,” I croak. “I must have… totally spaced on the fundraiser. I’m going to run, okay?” I end the live without checking more of the comments, since I’m sure people have plenty to say about my pallid expression, my shaking hands, and my tear-filled eyes. My camera caught all of that, and there’s no mistaking how rattled I am.

Knight is flying solo at this event. It’s obvious what happened: he’s ashamed to be seen with me, and he wants no strings attached so he can hook up with other girls. This is all my fault. I’m the one who didn’t want to define it. Who didn’t ask him if he was sleeping with other people. Who said it was okay if we didn’t use condoms. My stomach flips over a few more times for good measure. My mom’s face pops into my brain. She would console me but end her soothing words with an “I told you so.” I’m such a fool. A total pick me. He’s fine with me wearing his jersey but not as his plus-one at some ritzy fundraiser. What the fuck? Why wouldn’t he tell me about this event? He was going to bookend the day with me in private but hide me from the spotlight because I cramp his style?

Or maybe he’s embarrassed of me. Maybe he doesn’t want the Vegas fans to know we’re dating.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. After all, it’s the same thing my parents have been doing for years. But Knova doesn’t even like Viktor, and she’s there. If he wanted to pass me off as nothing more than a friend, her presence could provide cover.

Unless… he’s meeting someone specific there. How would I know if he has regulars? How deep in his bench am I? I never even bothered to ask! The longer I sit here, the more detailed my fears become. Would he have texted me to beg off tonight if he got a better offer? Would he have taken someone else home to his new condo or simply rented a room in Dante’s hotel?

What if some gorgeous model type with perky tits and a tiny ass is on her knees right now with her overinflated lips wrapped around that beautiful cock of his…

I don’t have to sit here and take this passively. I’m going to march into that ballroom and demand an explanation. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. Then I’m going to humiliate him. Pink flames my cheeks as I storm to my bathroom. I expel my breath in a huff. I’m gonna let the whole world know that Knight Hale is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A motherfucking liar.

But first, I’m going to steel my spine and put on my sexiest lingerie set, a full face of glam, and a stylish outfit fit for a queen.

* * *

My anger lasts through my self-imposed makeover session. It simmers on my rideshare over to the Mona Lisa. Every time it dims, I pull up socials on my holowatch and check the #VegasVenom hashtag for new photos.

Viktor dancing.

Knova posing by the appetizers.

Tristan with a girl on each arm.

Knight smiling for a fan photo with a couple our age.

Ick, ick, ick.

I get cold feet outside the venue, though. Making a scene won’t do me any favors, will it? I’ll just get labeled crazy and possessive. Knight’s the one who shut me out, but I’ll be cast as the villain. That’s how it always goes. I wish my mom was going to be there. She always knows what to do, and she’s fierce in any situation .

When I consider the implications, I have trouble wrapping my mind around them. My stomach is looped in knots, and I lose a bit of my bravery. Maybe I’ll wait here. Talk to him. See if he leaves with anyone. Maybe I’ll end this quietly, rather than making a spectacle of myself.

It’s barely nine o’clock, but people are already leaving. I duck to one side of the door and plan my next move. Should I text Knight? Try to get Knova’s attention? Then again, she didn’t tell me about this event, either. When it comes down to it, Knova’s just as stunning as any of the WAGs. Most of all, she fits in. Maybe they both agreed it was better not to be seen with me.

My mind starts to go there, spiraling back to all those moments I wasn’t invited, wasn’t included, wasn’t even thought of. It’s like a highlight reel of being left out—birthdays I didn’t know about, hangouts where no one bothered to ask if I wanted to come, the inside jokes I was never part of. I can’t stop the flashbacks, every little reminder of how easy it was for them to forget me. How easy it was for him to forget me. And now, seeing them all here, living their best lives, while I’m standing outside the door like I don’t belong? It’s like I’m back in that same place—on the outside, watching everyone else fit in while I’m left wondering if I ever really mattered to any of them.

It’s that thought that makes the tears spill over. Dammit. There goes my shot at a dramatic entrance in which I look like a badass and not a pathetic kid who got her heart broken and it’s all her fault.

Most of all, I hate how weak these thoughts make me when I’ve been working my whole life to move past it.

“Sofia?” Knova’s voice makes me look up. She grins at me. “I thought that was you. God, my feet are killing me. These fucking heels. Hey, when did you get here? I didn’t see you inside. We could have totally done a shot together.”

“I wasn’t invited,” I whisper. Through the tall windows, I can make out Knight and Viktor talking to a group of hockey fanatics, hamming it up for the camera and being their usual goofy selves. On another night, I would find it endearing. Tonight, I see the act for what it is: part of Knight’s lack of interest in taking anything seriously.

Including our non-relationship.

Knova steps closer. She must catch sight of my smeared makeup then, because her expression softens as she hurries over. “Sofia, what’s wrong?”

“It’s obvious Knight didn’t want to be seen with me.” I sniff. “I thought we were friends. Did you know about this?”

“Know about what? Sofia, what’s going on?” Her hand lands on my bare arm, so soft and kind that it makes me melt into her. I shouldn’t have doubted her. Knova’s got her rough edges, but she’s always been there for me. She’s my friend, my true friend. One arm wraps around me. “Knight isn’t ashamed of you, babe. Why would you think that?”

“That’s what my parents d-d-did. They kept me like some d-d-dirty secret. And now Knight is doing the same thing.” I take a shuddering breath and pull away from her as I struggle to pull it together. “This was a mistake. I’m just going to go before I make a fool of myself. I don’t even know why I’m upset. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. It’s not like he cares about my feelings.”

I set off back toward the parking lot, but instead of letting me leave with my last shred of dignity, Knova follows me.

“You’re not dating? You’re together all the time. He took you to the jewelry show. He took you condo hunting. He spends all his free time with you. How are you not dating?”

My mind races even as my heart squeezes. “He’s just being nice. He just hasn’t found anyone else who’s serious yet, so he’s bored. He’s helping me with my thesis. Passing time until something better can come along. We’re just… friends.”

Knova regards me as if I’m a puzzle missing the last piece. “Sofia, sweetie, I really think—”

I stop in my tracks and turn to her, pulling her into a hug. “Can we talk about this later? Or, ideally, never? Knight’s your brother. Your twin. I know how strong your bond is, and I would never even ask you to say a word against him. I just… want to go home, Knova. I want tonight to be over.”

Knova is way fitter than I am and could easily kick my ass in any fair race, but tonight, I have an advantage. I wore flats. I ignore the fact that she’s calling my name and book it across four lanes of Mona Lisa traffic toward the doorman at the transportation station. I’ll gladly pay for a private self-driving car if it means I can cry in peace.

The moment the car pulls up, my hands shake so badly I can barely tap the code into the side panel. My fingers slip, fumbling, and the damn screen blurs as tears fill my eyes. The doorman watches me from a distance, probably wondering if I’m having some kind of meltdown. Well, he wouldn’t be wrong.

I slide into the back seat and slam the door shut behind me, the sound echoing in the hollow space of the car. The air is thick, heavy, like it’s pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I punch in my destination, but I’m not even sure where I’m headed—just away. Away from Knova. Away from him. Away from everything.

The car hums to life, and I let my head fall back against the seat, the weight of it all finally crashing down on me. My chest heaves as I suck in air, but it’s not enough. The sobs come hard and fast, shaking through me like an earthquake I can’t control. I bury my face in my hands, trying to stifle the sound, but it’s no use. There’s no one here to see me fall apart anyway.

I’ve been holding it together for too long. Trying to be strong, pretending like I don’t care. Pretending that Knight doesn’t matter. But the truth? He matters. More than I ever wanted him to.

He always has. He probably always will.

I gasp for breath, my thoughts spiraling. How could he? This is exactly what my parents did. Hide me away like I don’t belong. And now… now Knight’s doing the same thing. The thought digs deep into my chest, twisting and tearing at everything inside me.

Why wasn’t I enough for them? Why am I never enough for anyone?

My hands tremble as I press them against my face, tears slipping through my fingers. I don’t know why I let this happen—why I let him get so close. We’re just friends. I told Knova that. I told myself that. But it’s a lie. Every time I see him, every time he smiles at me or touches me or looks at me with those goddamn eyes that make me feel like I’m the only one in the room, I forget the walls I’m supposed to keep up.

Because the truth is, I want him. I want him in a way that scares the hell out of me. And that’s what makes this so much worse. Because no matter how much I want him, I’m not what he wants.

But that’s not going to stop me from loving him.

The sobs keep coming, harder now, and I let them. I don’t fight it. I don’t have the strength to fight it anymore. I cry for the girl I used to be, the one who thought she could guard her heart. I cry for the woman I am now, who’s too broken to believe she’s worth more than being a backup plan.

My watch buzzes on my wrist. Probably Knova. Probably more questions I can’t answer. I ignore the noise, let it fade, because none of it matters. Not right now.

The car slows, the hum of the engine softening as it pulls up to my house. The tears haven’t stopped, but they’re quieter now, leaving behind the hollow ache that always follows. I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve, trying to pull myself together enough to walk through my dad’s burgeoning turtle habitat without looking like a total disaster.

But as I sit there, staring at the front door, something hardens inside me. Maybe it’s the sting of rejection. Maybe it’s the weight of years spent being someone’s afterthought. But I’m done. I’m done pretending this doesn’t hurt. I’m done acting like I can be okay with the scraps people decide to throw my way.

Tonight, I break.

But tomorrow? Tomorrow, I build myself back up. Stronger. And this time, no one—not even Knight Hale—is going to tear me down again.