The next morning, Knox’s apartment is a mess of hockey gear and half-empty coffee mugs. The morning sun slants through the blinds, casting stripes across the floor as he stands in front of his bedroom mirror, tugging at the collar of his navy button-up as he gets ready. He’s not a morning person, never has been but today, there’s a difference, a restless energy that’s got him up early, ironing his shirt with more care than usual. He smooths a hand over the jeans, smirking at his ...