Knox is everything I’ve hoped for in a man. He makes me laugh, he challenges me, keeps me on my toes, and . . . he cares about me. In the last few months, he’s shown me the type of man he is: genuine.
“Hey, don’t get upset.” One tear falls down my cheek and I blink rapidly to hold back the others.
“I’m sorry.” I wipe my eyes, chastising myself for showing emotion like this. “This is stupid, I don’t know why I’m getting so upset.”
“Because you like me . . . a lot, and you’re going to miss me.” When I don’t answer him, he says, “You don’t have to say it, Em. I can see it. I can feel it. And guess what, I’m going to miss you so fucking bad too.”
With both hands, I cup his cheeks and bring his mouth to mine where I seal our lips together, wanting to capture as much of him as possible before I leave.
One month without Knox.
One month without his smile, his laugh, his teasing.
One month without his caring caresses and insane surprises.
One month without his hands, his mouth, his cock.
One month without . . . us.
I’m not sure how I’m going to make it.
I just hope after one month apart he still wants to be with me, because even though I wasn’t looking for this, he’s stolen my heart. And I don’t want him to let go.
Maybe ever.
Chapter Twenty-Three
KNOX
“Tell me all about her,” my mom says, taking a seat across from me, tea in hand and a plate of toffee from Grandma Sue between us.
“Where do I start?” I ask, looking at the ceiling of our humble ranch on our three acres of property. It’s small compared to most properties in our ranching town, but we’ve lived here for nearly twenty years, have two horses and some chickens, doesn’t take a huge amount of maintenance, so it works for our family.
“Do you have a picture?” Ever since I got back home, my mom has been grilling me to talk about Emory, but I keep putting her off, wanting to get some much-needed sleep from the grueling semester. When I woke up this morning, I told her I’d tell her everything she wants to know after I worked out, took some swings in the cages, and did some chores around the house.
Once I was out of the shower and dressed, she was waiting outside my bedroom, tin of toffee in hand, and a giddy look on her face. All she said was, “It’s time.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone and hold up the screen to her. A few weeks ago, I changed my lock screen and wallpaper to a picture of Emory smiling at me. Her honey-colored hair falls past her shoulders in waves, she’s wearing one of those sexy skirts of hers, and her thick lips are painted in pink. Sometimes, I just stare at it because that’s how infatuated I am.
Gushing, my mom says, “Oh Knox, she’s beautiful. How cute are you for having her on your phone?” She studies the picture a little harder. “Are those her real lips?”
“Yes.” I hold back the sigh. They’re very much real; if only I knew how they felt around my cock.
“Well, she’s stunning, but does her personality match her looks?”
“Easily,” I answer, taking the phone back. “She’s really sweet, timid at times, and I don’t think she realizes how beautiful she really is. And fuck, Mom, she’s funny. Loves giving me shit.”
“Now that’s my kind of girl.” She sips from her tea. “Are you in love?”
I shrug, truly unsure. “I’m obsessed, not sure about love. I’ve never been in love before, so I don’t really know. But, I will tell you this, I fucking miss her hard right now.”
There’s a twinkle in my mom’s eye, and I think she knows something I don’t—something I might be a little afraid to admit at this point in our relationship—so I let her have her suspicions.
“Did you get her a Christmas present?”
“Yeah.” I pick up a piece of toffee and pop it in my mouth, letting the flavors melt on my tongue before chewing. Grandma Sue knows her way around a toffee recipe. “Got her a little heart necklace, just something to let her know I’m always with her.”
My mom clasps her hands to her heart. “Oh, that’s so sweet. I raised such a lovely boy.”
“Yeah, you did some things right,” I tease.
“Some things? I did a lot of things right with you boys. All so sensitive and polite, I couldn’t be prouder.” Her lips hover the edge of her mug before she says, “Now, are you using protection?”
I roll my eyes, knowing that was coming. “Don’t worry, Mom, we haven’t had sex.” Dry-humping, yes. Dry-humping with no clothes, yes, but actual sex . . . that’s a big fat nope.
And I’m surprisingly not mad about it.
Do I want to get inside her? Truly connect with my girl? Hell, yeah, but I almost like this crazy foreplay we have going on, the buildup is intense, and I know the minute we finally snap, it’s going to be explosive.
Stunned, my mom sits across from me, mouth agape. I don’t hide shit from my mom, so she knows I’ve had sex, multiple times, with multiple women. I don’t go into detail, because I’m not a sick fuck like that, but she knows, and I don’t try to hide it. It’s what I love about my mom, she really is a best friend.
“You haven’t had sex with her?”
“Nope.” I pop another piece of toffee in my mouth. “I mean, we’ve done some things, but sex, not yet.”
“That’s . . . wow, I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“Are you calling me a manwhore, Mom?”
“No.” She chuckles. “I’m just surprised, given your track record with women. You must really care about her.”
“I do. A lot.” I sit back in my chair, slouching against the Windsor back. “She was hurt badly by her ex of six years. She was really skittish at first, really wanted nothing to do with me, but I knew she was special. I took things slow and we’ve gradually been building a foundation . . . a friendship.”
“Oh, be still my heart, I don’t think I can take this. My baby is all grown up and finding the perfect girl.”
“Yeah, she is pretty perfect, that’s for damn sure.”
“Do I get to meet her this spring?”
“I hope so. I haven’t given her my schedule yet, but our first exhibition game is shortly after we get back from break. I’m kind of hoping she goes. She hasn’t seen me play yet.”
Brentwood is the only college baseball team with an indoor/outdoor stadium thanks to the heavy tuition and dedicated sponsors—aka, professional baseball players—making our fields the destination during the early semester months. We host many exhibitions before we head south for outdoor tournaments right before our season begins. It also makes training year around easy since we’re not hindered by the weather. It’s what takes our teams to the next level and why we’re a force to be reckoned with.
“Well, isn’t she in for a treat then? You’re so wonderful to watch play.”
“Thanks, Mom.” And I know she means that. She’s been my number-one fan for as long as I can remember, my brothers second to her. Their support is one of the reasons I’ve been able to succeed in my sport.