Chapter 40
forty
. . .
Avery
The air in Tahoe is crisp, the kind that feels like it’s scrubbing your lungs clean with every breath. The cabin—or rather, the massive mountain lodge—is nestled among snow-dusted pines, its wood-and-stone facade glowing warmly in the late afternoon light.
“This place is insane,” I mutter as we pull up, my eyes wide as I take in the sheer size of it.
Cassie grins, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she grabs her bag. “The Knoxes don’t do anything halfway, babe. Welcome to the chaos.”
She’s not kidding. Inside, the lodge is all rustic luxury—vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, a massive stone fireplace, plush furniture in warm tones, and windows that frame the snowy landscape like a postcard.
Cassie’s mom, Diana Knox, is the first to greet us, her arms wide as she pulls Cassie into a hug.
“There’s my baby!” she gushes, kissing Cassie’s cheek. Then she turns to me, her smile just as warm. “Avery! It’s so good to see you again. You look amazing, sweetheart. Come here.”
I step into the hug, her perfume—something soft and floral—filling my senses. “Thanks, Mrs. Knox.”
“Diana,” she corrects, waving a hand. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Right. Diana.”
Behind her, Cassie’s dad, Charlie Knox, ambles over with a smile that’s slower but no less genuine. He’s got a retired-coach vibe—broad shoulders, silver hair, and a calm presence that balances Diana’s energy.
“Hey there,” he says, shaking my hand. “You ready for the Knox family circus?”
I laugh, glancing at Cassie. “You forget. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
We’re barely inside when the door opens again, a blast of cold air following the tall, broad-shouldered figure stepping through. Jackson Knox, in the flesh.
He’s older now—somewhere in his mid 30s, if I remember right—but somehow even hotter than I recall. His dark hair is perfectly styled, his jawline sharper than a damn knife, and he’s dressed in a sleek wool coat over a turtleneck, looking like he stepped straight out of a magazine.
“Well, well,” Cassie drawls, throwing her arms open. “If it isn’t the famous Coach Knox himself.”
Jackson grins, pulling her into a quick hug. “Cass.” Then his eyes land on me, and his smile softens. “Avery Sinclair. Long time no see.”
My stomach does a little flip. Probably because he has an uncanny likeness to Griffin. If I’m getting a taste of what Griff will look like ten years out? I’m a lucky woman. “Jackson. It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise.” He looks me over, not in a flirty way but in that big-brotherly, slightly protective way. “World traveler suits you. Griff told me you were so pumped about your Spain trip.”
“Oh, he did?” I manage, feeling my cheeks heat.
Behind him, another tall figure (why is their whole family giant?) appears—Asher Knox—the youngest of the brothers. His energy is electric, his boyish grin making him instantly likable.
“Well, look who it is!” he calls out, his voice booming as he strides in, his arms already outstretched.
Cassie rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling as she hugs him. “Asher. Finally.”
He pulls back, smirking. “Miss me already?”
Behind him, another figure steps inside, bundled in a huge coat that practically swallows her. Her glasses fog up as she enters, her cheeks pink from the cold.
“Not sure if you two have met…this is my girlfriend Sloane."
“Hey, Sloane,” I say, shaking her hand. “How did you two meet, again?”
The two of them look at one another, then burst out laughing. “That…is a crazy story.”
“We, um, met in the library,” Sloane says.
Somehow, I get the feeling like there’s more to their story than just that.
Cassie arches an eyebrow. “The library? That’s so… academic.”
Sloane blushes, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose. “It’s true. I first noticed him in the library.”
“Oh? What did you notice? Seems a little veiled,” I comment.
Asher grins, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “She couldn’t resist my intellectual charm.”
Sloane snorts, rolling her eyes. “Sure, let’s go with that.” Then she turns to Cassie. “But really, I was studying, and he was...being distracting.”
“I was minding my own business!” Asher protests, laughing. “ You were actually the one distracting me. ”
Jackson comments. “What a couple of nerds.”
“And proud of it!” Asher bites back. “You wish you had my coaching abilities.”
“Bro, I’m the one who is coaching the potential Super Bowl champs this year. Not you. Calm down.”
“You all are ridiculously cute,” Diana chimes in, winking at Sloane.
“And ridiculously hungry,” Asher adds. “Mom, what’s for dinner?”
The dining room is buzzing with noise, laughter, and the clinking of silverware against plates. Diana’s laid out an impressive spread—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, fresh rolls, and a dozen sides I can’t even name.
Jackson is at the head of the table, holding court as he tells a story about a disastrous pre-season training mishap, complete with exaggerated gestures that have everyone in stitches.
“And then,” Jackson says, grinning wickedly, “Coach Baker comes running out, yelling, ‘This is a football field, not Cirque du Soleil!’”
The table erupts into laughter, Asher banging the table for emphasis.
“How does this stuff always happen to you?” Cassie asks, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
Jackson smirks. “I’ve got charisma. People want to impress me.”
“Or you’re just cursed,” Asher says, grinning. “Either way, it’s hilarious.”
I laugh along with everyone, but my mind is somewhere else entirely.
The way Jackson and Asher’s banter reminds me of how Griffin teases me, and the thought sends a pang straight through my chest. I wonder if he’s on the plane yet. If he’s thinking about me.
God, how am I supposed to make it through this trip without spilling everything?
As dinner wraps up, I nudge Cassie and nod toward the kitchen. She grabs her wine and follows me, still giggling from whatever joke Jackson had just cracked.
“What’s up?” she asks, leaning against the counter.
I hesitate, fiddling with my glass. “Hey, do you think we could grab coffee in town tomorrow? Just you and me?”
Cassie’s brows knit together. “Sure. Everything okay?”
I force a smile. “Yeah. Absolutely. It’s just that, I haven’t said much yet, but…I met a guy.”
Cassie’s jaw drops. “And you haven’t told me!?”
I raise a hand, laughing nervously. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I just—I really want to tell you all about him with no distractions. So can we please chat tomorrow? I’m so spent tonight.”
Cassie tilts her head, studying me for a second before her face softens. “Of course. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me, but okay. Coffee tomorrow. It’s a date.”
“Thank you,” I say, my shoulders sagging in relief.
Later, I collapse onto the bed in my room, the sound of muffled laughter and chatter drifting up from downstairs. The second my head hits the pillow, my phone buzzes on the nightstand.
I grab it, my stomach flipping when I see his name.
Griffin: what are you doing?
Me: Sleeping. You?
Griffin: Just touched down. 1 hour to the Airbnb. And how are you texting if you’re sleeping? Liar.
Me: You’re hilarious. I made a coffee date with Cassie tomorrow. I’m going to tell her about us
Griffin: That’s good. About time she knows you’re mine.
Me: Yours? Bold of you to assume.
Griffin: Bold of you to deny it.
Me: What if I like my secrets? :P
Griffin: Then you’re in trouble, Sinclair. Because I’m not good at keeping my hands off you when everyone’s watching.
Me: We’ll see how well you behave tomorrow.
Griffin: Oh, I’ll behave. Until I get you alone.
I bite my lip, the heat of his words spreading through me. My fingers hover over the screen before I type back.
Me: And then?
Griffin: And then? I’m going to make you tell me exactly how much you’ve missed me while I’m inside you.
Me: Griffin…
Griffin: That blush you’ve got right now? I want it all over your body.
I pull the blankets up to my chin, trying to steady my breathing, but the buzz in my chest is impossible to ignore.
Me: Goodnight, Knox.
Griffin: Sweet dreams, Sinclair. Don’t forget who you’re dreaming about.
I set the phone down, my heart racing, my body buzzing with anticipation.
The phone buzzes once more.
Griffin: Hey. One more thing. I know we haven’t gotten a chance to talk about this enough, but…I love you. I really do. I don’t know what it means yet. But I’m here for the journey of learning about what this all means.
I stare at the screen, Griffin’s words blurring slightly as my eyes well up. I blink quickly, wiping the corners of my eyes as a smile stretches across my face.
Me: I love you too, Griffin.
The response feels small compared to the weight of his confession, but it’s the truth. Simple. Real.
The phone buzzes again almost immediately.
Griffin: And I hope you know how to be quiet in that house. Because you might have a midnight visitor in your castle. Princess.
My breath catches, my pulse racing.
Me: You do realize there are, like, five other people here, right?
Griffin: Then I guess you better hope they’re heavy sleepers.
I bite my lip, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling in my chest, the sheer audacity of this man sending a mix of nerves and thrill through me.
Me: You’re so bad
Griffin: Guilty
I set the phone down, pressing it against my chest, the warmth in my heart spreading outward until it feels like I might burst.
This is madness.
Beautiful, reckless madness.
And I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.
I glance toward the window, the cold night pressing against the glass, and wonder if I’ll be able to fall asleep at all.
Because if Griffin Knox says he’s going to do something, he damn well does it.