33. Ava
THIRTY-THREE
AVA
I stare at Knox, the way his eyes move under his eyelids in the pale moonlight. The way his brow is furrowed, even in sleep.
I can still hear his voice in my mind. It’s the echo of a dream, but I knew he was here. Somehow. And for the first time in my life, when I woke up it wasn’t with panic, because Knox’s arms were wrapped around me. I felt cared for and safe and haven’t stopped staring at him since.
He’s done so much for me; I only want to soothe what tugs at his brow and torments his dreams. I’m not a romantic or a creep—not a woman who would typically stare at a man while he’s sleeping, let alone kiss him—but I want to. And I’m too tired to care if it’s weird or what Knox’s reaction will be when he wakes.
I’ve wanted him in some capacity my whole life. As a protector at school, a friend—as someone who looked at me with something other than antipathy. And I want him now. Even having lost everything, it feels like I have all I need in a sense, too.
The mattress creaks in protest as I lean in. The scent of smoke clings to him, and I’m acutely aware of my heartbeat, pounding so loud I’m sure it will wake him as my mouth brushes his.
Knox’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t flinch or pull away, and my apprehension fades. This is not like the kiss we shared by the truck this morning, which ended as quickly as it began. It feels more intimate, more raw, and such a long time coming. So, I take my time, allowing the embers of what could be catch flame. I savor the warmth of his kiss and the faint taste of salt on his lips, the pounding of his pulse beneath his skin and the flex of his body as I kiss him deeper.
I’m all too aware of this man—the size of him so close to me, and his heat is like a homecoming. Like he is the sun in the constant gray, and I lose myself in the gravitational pull I’ve always felt toward him.
With a ragged breath, Knox kisses me back. His fingers lace in my hair and his tongue seeks mine, so tentative and patient—so perfectly right—I think my heart might explode. But as his hand loosens in my hair and drops to my shoulder, he gently pulls away.
“You scared the shit out of me today,” he rasps, the remnants of fear and confusion still threading his voice.
Images of Knox tearing through the firehouse, trying to fix me, fill my mind, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had a spell like that in years. I was trying to fight it off all afternoon, but?—”
“All afternoon?” Knox bites out. His back hits the wall as his body tenses. “You need to tell me this shit, Ava.” When my eyes meet his in the night shadows, he’s glaring at me.
He’s right. I know he is, and heat burns my cheeks. I would expect the same. I would want to help him in any way I could. “I will next time. I promise. I just—I’m not used to?—”
“To what?”
My throat tightens and I force myself to hold his accusatory gaze. “I’m not used to talking about it,” I admit, willing Knox to understand. “It’s my burden, you know? I’m not used to having to share it with someone. You have so much on your mind already, I don’t want to burden you more with this—it’s completely out of your control.” I rarely spoke to Mavey about my seizures because she had her own health issues to worry about, but I don’t tell him that.
“I don’t care, Ava. Things are different now,” he says more softly. Knox brushes a fallen strand of hair from my face, and the back of his knuckle lingers against my cheek. “We’re in this together.” His voice is stern but earnest and my cheeks burn hotter. I have to stop myself from leaning into his touch, from melting into his strength. “I need to know when you’re not well so I can help you. So I’m not blindsided.” He takes a deep breath. “You have no idea how scared I was,” he whispers, and my heart squeezes so tightly I think it might burst. “I need you, Ava. I can’t do this without you. So...let me help you, okay? Please?”
Knox’s desperation, as controlled as it is, is palpable. No one has ever cared about me the way he seems to. His actions—the fiery gleam in his eyes sometimes—pierce my soul, and something inside me breaks.
“Okay,” I whisper. My vision blurs with tears. “I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is make this harder for you.”
Knox lets out an incredulous laugh as his hand falls away. “Ava, you just passed out for an hour, and you’re worried about me ?”
I wipe a rogue tear from my cheek but another one falls in its place. “Sorry—I get emotional after. It’s stupid, but I can’t help it.”
Knox pulls me into him. “Don’t apologize.” The roughness of his voice tears at my heart even more. “For being infuriating at times, maybe,” he teases, “but not for crying.”
I smile into Knox’s shoulder and allow myself to melt into him. I hold on for dear life because, for the first time, I have someone stronger than me to lean on, and I don’t have to bear the weight of everything on my own. It’s a foreign, unnatural feeling, and yet a sudden lightness fills me.
“One time,” I recall, remembering one of the worst days, “I had an episode in a parking lot. This strange wave of numbness and fire overcame me, and I collapsed. I was conscious but couldn’t move, and the pavement was so hot. I can still feel the sharp asphalt biting into my cheek.” I close my eyes, reliving it so clearly. “I could see the cars parked around me, and I watched someone walk right by and do nothing. They said nothing. It was the first time it had happened in public, and ever since that day, the panic I feel when I know it’s coming is incapacitating.”
“No one stopped to help you?”
My head shifts ever so slightly. “I remember thinking that’s the type of world we live in now, and I’ve sort of held a grudge against people ever since.”
“God, people suck.”
I smile to myself, my heart aching a little. “That’s what Mavey said, and that’s when she got me the Toxic Positivity hat.”
“With rainbow lettering that suits you so well,” he adds dryly.
I chuckle, and Knox’s arms tighten around me, our bodies pressed together on the double bed as he rubs slow circles on my back. I soak it in, listening to every methodical beat of his heart, having never felt anything like this before. “Thank you, Knox.”
His hand stills, his fingers pressing firmly into my back to hold me against him. “I’m not going anywhere, Ava, wherever this journey takes us.”
I don’t know if he means the road to Kansas or where our paths lead beyond it, but I lift my head and smile into his neck, each word filling the bristly parts of me with warmth. “Me neither.”
Knox rests his cheek against my forehead, and a rush of air leaves his lungs. “You promise?” His words are a whisper and full of uncertainty.
Slowly, I pull back and look him in the eyes. “I promise.” His gaze is glassy and his predictably set jaw clenches in the moonlight. It’s a reminder that Knox has had his own battles and burdens. A reminder that, like me, Knox has no one left. “I promise,” I say again.
His Adam’s apple moves up and down with a slow swallow, and I see it in his eyes as they shift to my mouth—the same longing that’s been growing inside me for days. A need to be nearer and close the inches between us. But he doesn’t move.
“Knox,” I breathe. My heart is pounding so hard and so fast I think I might faint again, but it would be worth it if I could feel the weight of his body against mine, if I could revel in something good for the first time in so long. It’s like I’m starved for it.
Closing my eyes, I lean in until our lips are only a hair’s breadth apart.
“Ava—”
I claim his mouth, swallowing his breath before he can speak again. I don’t want to know what he’s going to say. The need to feel alive and full of him consumes me, and I wrap my arms around Knox’s neck instead, willing him to accept this—to have me in this moment—all of me.
My body takes over and my leg inches up to wrap around him, but Knox grips my arms, firm but gentle, and his body goes rigid against me. “Ava.”
Mortification is a stomach churning, skin-singeing poison as I realize this is not what Knox wants right now. And I’ve just made it very apparent that I do.
I pull away, my elbows sinking into my pillow as I cover my face, gathering what few wits I have left. “That was...intense.” I want to crawl under the blanket and never come out again. “ Too intense. Sorry. I?—”
“It’s not that.” Knox lies back on his pillow, raking his fingers through his short hair as he stares up at the ceiling. I don’t know if he sounds or looks more tormented.
“Then”—I swallow my unease—“what is it?” I hate how small my voice is, but nothing has ever made sense when it comes to Knox Bennett, and I don’t know if I should be relieved he’s not repulsed by me, or brace myself for the sex will make things too complicated conversation.
“You were just unconscious, Ava. We should...take it slow.”
I did just admit my emotions are higher after a spell like that, but this is different. This is the possibility of Knox and me, and if it’s my heightened emotions giving me such courage, I welcome it gladly. The fact is, I don’t feel sick or sad. If anything, I feel more well and alive than I ever have.
Leaning closer, I take hold of Knox’s shirt and look him in the eyes. “Knox Bennett,” I say quietly. Gently, even. “I have wanted you since I saw you all grown up in high school.” His brow twitches with confusion, and I want to laugh. “If the only thing holding you back right now is that you think you’ll break me somehow, then let me assure you, I would happily let you if that were even possible.”
Knox’s jaw tightens. His eyes scour mine for uncertainty, but there’s none to be found. And I watch the play of emotions on his face as his reservations shatter. Lifting up onto his elbow, Knox snakes his other arm around my waist and captures my mouth with his. There’s no ceremony this time. No hesitation. Knox’s kiss is determined, barely restrained, and his hand slides up my neck and through my hair as he rolls me onto my back. His kisses are consuming, his tongue seeking mine as if he’s been deprived of it for far too long, and my thoughts are distant and frenzied as my instincts take control.
My hands slide up the corded muscles of Knox’s back. My fingers rake down his biceps, and I grab his hips, pulling him closer. My body arches as he settles over me, his thick length pressing against my jeans, pelvis to pelvis, and I groan as he grinds into me.
Each touch is frantic and greedy. His teeth score the column of my neck and his hand roams under my shirt, stopping at my pebbled nipple; my sports bra is all that denies him access. He nips at the fabric, as if to teach it a lesson, then lifts my shirt, tugs my bra down, and sucks my breast into his mouth. I writhe as the most exquisite sensation feathers through me and his warm tongue licks over my skin. His scruff against my tender flesh sends a trickle of deliciously hot chills fluttering through me.
But this intoxicating thrill and feeling him hard and pressed against me isn’t enough. I want to touch Knox’s flesh and make him come until every tension-filled inch of his body melts away in euphoria.
I fumble with the button of his pants and reach into his briefs, taking his erection in my hand.
“Fuuck.” Knox groans into my breasts, and I smile to myself, determined to stroke him until he can no longer see straight. “Ava—” It’s a guttural, almost pained word of warning, but I keep going. I want to give him this. I want to see pleasure crinkling Knox’s brow instead of worry and sadness.
Knox gasps and his entire body trembles with building desire as he unravels above me. His hand grips my side, his fingers pressing my flesh with bruising pressure. With a quick hiss of breath, a groan rumbles through him. He curses as he squeezes me harder, growls my name, and comes completely undone.
His warmth pools on my stomach, and Knox pants for breath. He is slick and sweaty, and as the last of the tension seeps from his body, he drops his head to my shoulder. “Holy hell,” he rasps, his chest heaving against me.
I bask in my victory and brush my lips to his ear. “You’re welcome.”
We both laugh, my chest rising and falling as quickly as his. I won’t deny the tinge of disappointment in not having my own release or not having felt Knox inside me, but it’s better this way. It negates the awkward conversation about contraceptives and the depressing truth of how long it’s been since I’ve slept with someone, and I close my eyes, allowing myself to smile.
I wonder if Knox is aware his thumb strokes the skin above my hip as he comes down from his high. “That wasn’t how I saw that going,” he says huskily, inhaling another deep breath as he lifts off me. He pulls his shirt off and uses it to wipe his come from my stomach before meeting my gaze.
I don’t know what I expected to see in his expression—exhaustion mixed in with a heady, sated gleam, perhaps. But there is no exhaustion. There’s a glint of determination that seems almost vindictive, and a thrill of anticipation winds its way through me.
Knox looks down at me with a wolfish grin.
“Um...” I lick my lips. “Should I be afraid right now?”
He hums in answer and slides his hand down the plane of my sweat-dampened stomach to the zipper of my jeans. He unbuttons them more deftly than I’d managed with him and slips his fingers beneath my underwear.
My insides quiver with the promise of bliss as the pressure of his rough, hot hand inches over my delicate skin. My toes curl with anticipation, and I grip the sheets at my side.
The instant Knox’s fingers sink inside me, his mouth descends on mine, swallowing a cry of pleasure as it escapes my lips.
I grab the ledge of the headboard, bracing myself as Knox’s fingers fill me, and stars are all I can see.