Chapter 27 Knox
Knox
Twenty minutes later, Taylor is letting us into his apartment.
“Feel free to look around. I’m going to grab a couple things I think you’ll like,” he says with a wink. If I hadn’t seen the pain distort his features after his accident, I’d wonder if he’d been hamming up his concussion a little because, with the prospect of more orgasms, he seems completely fine.
I’m not normally one to snoop, but seeing as this is the first time I’ve been in Taylor’s space, my curiosity propels me around his apartment.
It’s cleaner than I thought it’d be for a twenty-four-year-old bachelor.
Then again, maybe he puts on that maid uniform and cleans to relax.
I can easily picture him, feather duster in hand, dancing around this space to tidy up.
Remembering the way his ass hung out the bottom of that outfit makes my cock thicken.
A navy-blue velvet couch fills the living room, with a matching ottoman between it and the fireplace. A flatscreen TV is mounted on the wall above. Three of the walls are crimson, and the small wall that separates the living room and kitchen is done in glittery gold wallpaper.
Yeah, his space screams Taylor.
And I like it.
My house is all neutral colors, muted fabrics, and natural elements. Taylor’s space feels alive and invigorating whereas mine feels like a slow death—a thought that never occurred to me until just now. As though all the color and fun have literally bled out of my life.
I turn left, entering his small kitchen.
A frame hangs on the wall. Inside is what looks like a concert ticket, a photograph of him and Livvy meeting a band, and a signed napkin. One of the guys looks familiar, so I lean in closer and scan the ticket for the band name.
Beautiful Deceit.
No wonder I recognize them. Jake’s brother runs security for their bassist.
But as soon as I turn around and face the fridge, my smile disappears. Pinned to the front of it with a heart-shaped magnet is a selfie of Taylor and an older man. Taylor is kissing the man’s cheek while the man gives a cocky grin to the camera.
What a waste. I will never offer Taylor my cheek again if my lips are an option.
I assess the man in the photo, instantly hating him.
His hair is too floofy, his smile looks more like a smirk, and his eyes are haughty, like he’s harboring a secret. My guess is that Taylor was his secret, and he liked the thrill of being with him, but also hiding him.
I itch to punch something. Ideally, the man in the picture.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. I forgot that was up there.”
I turn at the sound of Taylor’s voice.
“Patrick?” I ask.
Taylor winces and nods once.
“Why do you still have it?” My question comes out harsher than I intend.
“Not that great at moving on, I guess,” he answers, his gaze transfixed on the picture. I hate that he won’t look at me. “To be fair, I haven’t been here to take it down since things between us started.”
Taylor is so much better than the pretentious prick in the photograph.
I’ve been learning not to judge people, but the smirk Patrick’s wearing in this picture doesn’t scream I’m healing after the death of my wife with this amazing man by my side.
It screams Yeah, I’ve still got it. Look how badly he wants me.
Looking back at the real Taylor, I take in his beautiful face, the way his eyes pop with the eyeliner, the way his full lips glisten after his tongue runs over them nervously, the way his pecs fill out the feminine top he’s wearing, making it somehow more alluring than any woman ever could.
I know offering words won’t help because I’ve been there. Hell, I was there for five years. Instead of my heart healing as time went on, my mind fucked with me and lied to me about what my marriage had been. It made me miss things that were never there to begin with.
So, I stay silent, denying my inner caveman who wants to haul Taylor to bed and make him forget everything Patrick ever said and did. He has to be on his own timeline for that.
“You ready?” I ask, my voice tight with jealousy and anger, which is new for me. I’ve never been the jealous type.
Taylor wraps his arms around my waist and buries his head against my chest. I hate to see him hurting. I hate it even more, knowing I’m contributing.
Well, this got heavy awfully fucking fast.
As if reading my thoughts, Taylor pulls back a little and looks at me with a grin that I’m quickly learning means he’s on emotional overload and he’s choosing to take a less-serious route.
He’s holding something up that I hadn’t noticed in his hand a second ago.
It’s a long tube that looks like it contains a poster.
With that signature grin still in place, he says, “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion, and I was thinking we could do it tonight.”
“What is it?” I ask, my arms still wrapped around him.
“A canvas. I want new art for the living room.”
“You paint?” Not the hobby I would have pictured Taylor enjoying, but what the fuck do I know? I still have so much to learn about him.
“Sort of,” he says cryptically. “Will you help me with it?”
If it gets us out of this kitchen and far away from that horrible picture on the fridge, then, “Absolutely,” I say out loud. “If that’s how you want to spend the afternoon then that’s what we’re doing.”
My job requires me to be a decent painter. I can’t draw worth a damn, but maybe I can paint the background or something.
“Oh, it is,” he says, reaching up and planting a kiss on my neck.
He grabs a small bag he’d set on the counter, turns off his lights, and we head back to my house for an afternoon of…painting?
On the way home, Taylor turns the radio up on a song he likes and proceeds to roll his window down and sing into his hand.
I love his energy. By the time we’re a mile from my house, my cheeks are sore from smiling like an idiot.
When my eyes land on my driveway up ahead, I groan.
“Aw, fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” Taylor asks, turning down the volume.
I point toward my house. “That’s Phoenix’s truck.”
“And that’s bad?” he asks. His voice can oscillate between innocent and sultry so damn fast it makes my head spin.
“It’s not really bad, but after this, the cat will most definitely be out of the bag, and it’s sure as fuck not going back in.
” Oh, I’m going to catch so much hell when I confess to all the shit we’ve been up to.
Wanting the last half mile to never end, I reach over and turn the radio back up. “Just keep singing, baby.”
I can’t help my laugh when we pull in next to Phoenix and I flip him the bird while Taylor sings his ever-loving ass off in the seat next to me.
Phoenix moves to my window, waiting for me to roll it down, but I point to my ear and shake my head like I can’t hear you, wearing a grin that clearly says, Eat shit.
I wait until the song ends before turning off the truck and finally opening my door.
“Phoe, what are you doing here?” I ask from the driver’s seat.
“This is a welfare check,” Phoenix says with a knowing grin of his own. “Hud said our jet-skier took a turn for the worse last night.”
“All better now!” Taylor pipes up, walking around the front of my truck and extending his hand. “Thanks for checking. I’m Taylor. Nice to officially meet you.”
“Phoenix,” my best friend replies with a nod and a perusal over Taylor’s lean, tight body.
I watch him lick his lips and take a step closer to Taylor.
“Watch it, Phoe,” I growl, pulling Taylor to my side as I finally slip out of the truck.
“You’re really hot,” Phoenix says unabashedly, full of the same unshakable confidence Taylor possesses.
“I know.” Taylor winks at Phoenix, and I make a noise somewhere between another groan and a growl.
“Are you two done yet?” I snap. “I’m afraid someone’s going to get pregnant in my driveway.”
Taylor’s hand shoots into the air.
“Me! Pick me!” he says, jumping up and down against my body.
Pulling his bratty ass against me even tighter, I place my mouth at his ear and whisper so there is absolutely zero chance Phoenix can hear me. “Go inside and put on whatever satin or lace you brought from your apartment. I’ll come find you in five minutes.”
Taylor steps back and salutes me before turning to Phoenix. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, but I must bid you adieu.”
Phoe and I watch as Taylor sashays his perfect, edible ass into my house, long tube in one hand, swinging bag in the other.
“He’s fucking adorable,” Phoenix says. “And I bet he’s freakier in bed than a black cat in heat on Halloween.”
I snort. “You’re not wrong.”
Phoenix raises a brow in concern or amusement, I’m not entirely sure. “So, you’re going for it, huh? I’m proud of you.”
I try like hell to act nonchalant about it. “You saw him. How long could you resist him?”
Phoenix laughs. “I wouldn’t have even tried. But I know I’m into guys.”
“I’m into Taylor,” I clarify, still having trouble imagining an attraction to any man that isn’t Tay. “Why’d you really drive all the way over here? You could’ve called or texted me.”
“I did,” Phoenix answers. “Multiple times. And I got no response…which hasn’t been terribly unusual lately,” he adds with an annoyed look.
I pat my pockets only to realize I must’ve left my phone on the nightstand when we left for breakfast.
Huh, that never happens.
I always have my phone, always waiting for a call from the station, or one of the guys, or about a job. Someone to interrupt the silence and stillness of my life.
“So, you see why I had to come over?” Phoenix asks with a raised brow.
“Okay, well, we’re all good here.” I give a tight smile and close my truck door.
He grips my shoulder, and his tone turns serious.
“You know what you’re doing, right?”
I look Phoenix dead in the eye when I answer. “I have no fucking clue.”
We both laugh, and Phoenix says, “Well, if you, uh, have any questions or—”
I hold my hand up to silence him. “I’ll have Taylor walk me through it if we get there. I can confidently say that you and I will never discuss my sex life.”
Phoenix winks, reminding me so much of the man waiting for me inside. “Never say never, Knoxy. Also, dinner’s at our place tonight. Six o’clock. Be there.”
Dinner with the guys sounds nice after the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on this week, but I don’t want to spend my last precious moments with Taylor in the company of their rowdy, nosy asses.
“I can’t,” I tell Phoenix. “It’s Taylor and I’s last night together before his parents come home and he leaves on Monday.”
Phoenix’s grin widens. “I was assuming you’d bring him.”
“It’s a little too soon for that,” I argue.
Phoenix shakes his head. “Bring him, or we’ll all come here.”
“I hate you.”
“I imagine it’s kind of like how I hated you that time you told me I couldn’t get on your boat if I didn’t bring Walker with me.”
Touché.
“Fine,” I grumble.
Phoenix laughs with glee as he hops in his truck. “See you boys tonight!” I think I’m in the clear until Phoenix adds, “Oh, and Knox? I want to know if he chose satin or lace.”
Fuck my life.