When his mom told him she’d found him a fixer-upper, she wasn’t kidding. Not that today hasn’t been a blast. It’s been refreshing. Like every other day with him, I’m realizing what a great team we could make—which is unfortunate. He has plans for his future, ones that don’t include me, but I’ve genuinely enjoyed helping him rehab this place. Or the way I could see myself spending my life like this. By his side.
Except his place isn’t here. Neither is mine.
I shake the thought out of my head and focus on the joy of the day.
Maybe after Knox, photography isn’t the only thing I’ll pursue.
I stretch my arms wide with a yawn. “Mickey’s sounds perfect. Plus, Sunny was just complaining that I haven’t spent enough time with her this summer.”
Knox stops in his tracks. “Sunny, whose mouth is practically glued to Joe’s every time we’re around them? That Sunny?”
“Just the one,” I laugh. God, he fits in so well. Too well.
He grins. “So you’re down for Mickey’s… How ’bout that shower?”
“It might take a while to wash off all the grime of this place.”
“Far as I’m concerned, we’ve got all the time in the world.”
If only that were true.
Apparently, home repairs have an aphrodisiac quality. By the time we reach my house, we’re leaving a trail of clothes from the door leading to the shower. Knox methodically cleans every inch of dirt off my skin, his lips following along. We may be in the middle of a heatwave, but I swear I’m living with perpetual goose bumps thanks to this man. He’s driving me crazy, taking his sweet-ass time getting me primed. Just when I’m nearing my breaking point, Knox makes good on his promise.
We christen my shower.
A couple of times.
As I’m putting the finishing touches of my mascara on, I spot Knox through the reflection of my vanity and regret agreeing to spend an evening at Mickey’s. How can one man make a plain white T look so damn appealing?
I swirl around on my stool. “If I’d known you were going to wear that, I wouldn’t have suggesting going out tonight,” Knox growls.
Apparently, we’re on the same wavelength.
I look at the mauve towel tucked between my boobs. “When I was fifteen, Sunny taught me that it’s makeup before clothes. I think if I wore this to Mickey’s, I’d get arrested,” I say, standing and walking towards him.
As soon as I’m close enough, he grabs the edge of my towel. “I’m pretty sure if you wore that Mickey’s, I’d be the one getting arrested.”
My hands slide up his arms, slowing grazing sturdy muscles from hard work, not just the gym. “Even though you’re a city guy, I’m pretty sure you could take every one of them in the bar.”
His brilliant eyes darken. “I work hard for what I want, Amelia. No matter what it is. No matter how hard. And when I get it, it’s mine.”
The brand is too delicious to question. “I have no doubt that’s the truth. But you know, Knox, not every woman enjoys being considered a possession.”
As his lips descend towards mine, I wrench out of his arms and head towards my closet. I pause as I’m about to walk into it. Knox’s gaze sears into me, but I pretend it has no affect.
“Lucky for you, I’m not one of them.”
A slow, knowing grin brings his dimples into view. “Pretty sure you’ve already let me stake my claim, Melia.”
“You have two months until said claim expires. Better make the most of it.”
When Knox pushes off the doorjamb and stalks towards me, I know what’s about to happen.
We christen my closet.
Twice.
We break free of Mickey’s only after I’ve promised Sunny a girls-only slumber party for the following Friday. Sam, naturally, demands nighties and pillows, and Sunny, of course, indulges him.
“I like Sam and all, but I’m not against a little ass kickin’ if he shows up at your sleepover,” Knox quips, his fingers toying with mine as we walk along the lakeshore.
“It’s sweet you’re jealous,” I tease. “He’s harmless. When we were kids, Sam often tried joining in. My parents? No way would they let him. Sunny’s? They didn’t mind. Especially since Sam usually ended up with painted nails. It’s simply not fair how mascara makes his eyelashes appear a mile long.”
He chuckles. “I’d say that shocks me, but with your group, nothing really does.”
“I can’t believe I stayed away from them for so long. The past few years have been…difficult, and my much-needed therapy was right here all along.”
Knox squeezes my hand. “You’re a part of that, too, you know.”
“I was.” I sigh. “I know I still am. Coming back here… It’s like I never left. Still, I can’t help but regret everything I missed during the years I stayed away. I just… I couldn’t come back here, yet it may have been the best thing I could have done. Not that I can change it now.”
“You know you can talk to me. About anything. Anytime. My mom may not always agree, but I’m a pretty damn good listener.”
I’m not ready. I don’t know why, but I’m just not. So I force a grin onto my face and like any good woman, turn it around on him. “Yeah, well, I could say the same about you. It’s been nearly six weeks and I feel like I’m still learning who you are. So, who are you? I’ve had glimpses of sweet you, growly you, respectful you, manhandling you. Not that I’m complaining of course.” I bump his shoulder with mine in a playful manner. “I like all those versions of you. But when I think back on it, Clay kind of made you sound like a stick in the mud.”
Knox runs his free hand through rumpled hair that’s grown since I met him. It gives him more of a boyish, devil-may-care look, and I absolutely adore it. “I don’t really know, Amelia. I mean, I’m only twenty-two. So I guess I’m still trying to figure that out.”
“Makes sense to me. I guess I’m still in the same boat,” I tell him, toying with my bottom lip. I still haven’t told him all the details about that fateful night when my parents died, and he hasn’t asked. The more I get to know him, the more I let him in, the more I believe he’s the one person I could confide in and he’d understand.
So, what’s holding me back?
“And as for Clay, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. When we’re back home, his head’s so far up his girlfriend’s ass he can’t possibly know what’s going on in my life.”
“Oh, right. Maria. The girl he plans on proposing to?”
Knox scoffs. “Apparently. Twenty years old and he’s already ready to settle down? Sounds crazy to me.”
“I mean, I’m not planning on settling down for a good long while, but who’s to say she isn’t his one? If he loves her enough to truly know, who are we to judge?”
He just grunts, and I know that nothing I say will convince him.
“What about you? What about your future?”
He stops so abruptly that I nearly stumble into his back. And when he doesn’t meet my eyes, I realize he totally misunderstood my question. I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry at how damn uncomfortable he looks. If I were to think we’ve made progress towards something beyond the summer, that one look lets me know I’d be sorely mistaken. Better to get used to that now rather than hope the rest of the summer. I probably just dodged a huge bullet straight to my heart come September.