The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over the small park just outside of town. Knox Morgan stood there, his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets, jaw set tight like he was bracing for a storm. He hated this—feeling vulnerable. But he hated the idea of losing you even more.

“You’re late,” you said, crossing your arms. Your tone was sharp, a reminder of all the times you’d butted heads with him. But the softness in your eyes betrayed you.

Knox let out a low chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Figured you’d appreciate me not showing up on time for once,” he drawled, his voice rough and tinged with nerves.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why am I here, Knox? If this is about another ‘favor,’ I swear—”

“It’s not a favor,” he interrupted, stepping closer. The usual confidence in his stride wavered. “I... I need to say something.”

You tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your expression. “This better be good.”

He exhaled, the weight of his own pride dragging him down. But he looked at you—at the fire in your eyes, the stubborn set of your jaw—and knew he couldn’t keep this buried any longer. “I used to think you were the most infuriating person on the planet,” he started, his voice quieter now. “Still do, most days. But somewhere between all the arguing and you calling me out on my crap, I realized... I don’t want a day without you in it.”

Your breath caught, and for once, you were speechless.

Knox took another step, his hand reaching out hesitantly before falling back to his side. “I know I’m rough around the edges. Hell, I’m practically made of edges. But you make me want to be better. And if I’ve got a shot at... at being something for you, I’ll take it. Even if you drive me insane.”

Silence hung between you like a thread ready to snap.

“And if you’re about to reject me,” Knox added, his trademark smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “try not to do it in front of all these damn ducks. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”