Chapter 35
Knox
Taylor is basically catatonic on the ride home. He barely blinks, but when I turn on my signal to take the exit for his apartment, he finally comes to life.
“No!” he shouts, scaring me half to death.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Can we go back to your house?” he asks.
“Of course, we can.”
The request actually makes my heart sing. The fact that he feels safe with me and wants to stay with me is something I’ll never take for granted.
“Tell me what you need,” I implore, merging back onto the highway toward my house as Taylor stares out the window.
“I was finally healing,” he says in a broken whisper. “Why’d he have to show up now?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. Reaching a hand toward him simply to let him know he’s not alone, he flinches slightly when it lands on his thigh.
I remove it immediately, trying not to show that his flinch gutted me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” I try to reassure him, despite the fear welling up inside me. I know this was fast. I know he and I don’t make sense, but was it a lost cause from the start?
No. I refuse to believe that.
Pushing my insecurity down, I try again. “It was a traumatic night.”
My stomach rumbles, and it echoes in the cab of my truck.
“I’m sorry we had to leave before we got our meals.” With a humorless laugh, Taylor adds, “Guess that wasn’t exactly the new memory you were hoping to make there.”
This time, I don’t hesitate as I reach for his hand. “Nothing was more important than getting you out of that situation, do you hear me?”
He nods, but doesn’t say anything else for the entire ride home.
When we get to my house, I briefly think about asking him again what he needs, but he doesn’t seem to know, so I take charge.
“Come with me.”
If he’s facing his past tonight, then I’ll finish confronting mine with him.
I lead him to my bedroom, grab a leather jacket, and toss it at him.
“What’s this for?” he asks, slipping his arms in the sleeves.
“You feel caged. I can tell by the way your eyes watched the horizon as we drove home, and your fingers haven’t been still since he touched you.”
Taylor’s brows pinch together, trying to understand where I’m going with this.
“We’re running,” I explain.
The statement must register for him because he nods even though he still seems confused…
until I open the door to the garage. My truck’s too big to fit in here, so I park in the driveway and use the front door.
The only time Taylor’s ever been in here, he was concussed and his eyes were closed as I carried him through this space.
But his eyes are open now, and it doesn’t take them long to land on my bike.
Something other than despair flickers in his eyes for the first time since tonight’s shitshow started, and I know I’ve made the right choice.
I punch the garage door opener on the wall and hand him the helmet from the small backseat.
Placing my own helmet on, I face my bike and pray it all comes back easily. I also pray the thing starts. She’s had a long slumber.
But when I throw a leg over and turn the key, the old girl starts right up.
“Get on.”
I look at Taylor and wish like hell I could see his expression through the visor to know what he’s thinking. Where my visor is clear, his is tinted because that’s what Karen had wanted. The helmet looks better on Taylor than it ever did on her, though.
Without wasting time, he throws a leg over the seat behind me, and I feel him push in close. I grip his right thigh, lifting his leg so his foot rests on the peg behind mine, and then repeat the move on the other side.
“Don’t move from this position or you’ll burn your ankle on the exhaust pipe,” I instruct. Next, I reach for his arms and wrap them around my waist, reveling in the feel of him here with me. For a few minutes, I thought he was going to choose to leave that restaurant with Patrick.
The thought fucking terrified me.
I wrap his arms around me tighter because of it.
“Don’t let go,” I yell behind me. “If you need me to pull over, pinch me.”
I breathe a little easier at the thumbs up he gives. Then, I put the bike in gear and take off down the street.
I head away from town. Our city has so much traffic that it’s not enjoyable to ride through, even at seven o’clock at night.
The outskirts of our city, though, are beautiful.
Rolling hills, long stretches of open road.
We won’t be able to see much because it’s dark out, but this ride is for the feel, not the sights.
I aim east out of habit, so familiar with the roads that the darkness doesn’t impede my ability to drive.
It feels good to be back on my bike with Taylor behind me. The wind whips past us, forcing me to stay rigid to block him from the gusts and ensure I stay in control of the bike as we barrel down back roads.
I want to cover Taylor’s hands with mine just to remind him I’m here for him, but I get the sense that he needs to take tonight without any expectation of having to give in return, and I don’t want the gesture to be misconstrued.
He scoots closer to me the longer we ride, his groin pressing against my ass.
After the small adjustment, his arms wrap tighter around me, and one of his hands begins to rub my chest. It takes all my willpower to focus on the road.
I’d give anything to be able to lay him down right now, crawl up his body, and worship every inch of him.
We drive an hour out and an hour back. I’d stay out with him all night if I could, but the November wind is beginning to cut through the summer leathers we’re wearing, and the longer the sun is down, the cooler the temperature becomes.
As I pull back into the garage and cut the engine to the bike, I sigh in relief. Even through his pain, Taylor heals me. It felt so nice to be back on my motorcycle, and I was so focused on Taylor, I didn’t even think of Karen once. I don’t really think of her at all these days.
When I remove my helmet, I can’t help but notice Taylor struggles with the chin strap on his. Reaching up to undo it for him, my fingers brush his and find them so cold.
“Tay! You’re freezing!” I hadn’t thought it was that cold out, but he has a lot less mass than I do, plus he was hunkered against my back, keeping me warm.
“I’m f-fine. The r-ride was n-n-nice.” His teeth are chattering as I usher him inside the house.
I head straight for our bathroom and turn on the tub.
While it heats, I rip the comforter from our bed and wrap Taylor up in it, rubbing my hands along his arms. I want to kiss his blue lips until they’re warm and pink again, but he’s clearly upset, and I don’t want him to think I’m trying to stake my claim on him—even if I am.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell him, turning to leave the bedroom. A minute later, I find what I’m looking for, and although I don’t think drinking solves any problems, tonight, Taylor needs to dull the pain and get warm, and bourbon is good for both of those things.
When I re-enter our room, Taylor is on his side on the bed, still cocooned in the comforter. I’m almost afraid he’s going into shock.
“Here, baby. Drink this,” I instruct, helping him sit back up. Taylor has to use both hands to keep the glass steady. While he drains the contents, I check on the bath.
“It’s almost ready,” I tell him. “Do you want some time alone in there, or do you want me to sit with you?” I ask, needing him to verbalize it.
“Stay,” is all he says, but that one word does wonders for my heart and soul.
The bathtub finishes filling, and Taylor and I strip. I sink into the tub first and hold my hand out to help guide him in.
I’ve never known peace quite like I do as he settles between my legs in the warm water. Even my time in the ocean didn’t calm me like this. Taylor’s weight against my body and that calming sensation of being surrounded by the water are healing parts of me I didn’t know needed to be soothed.
Planting kisses on his shoulders, I stretch my arms out along the sides of the tub. Because he chose me, I don’t feel the need to trap him against my body even though that’s where I want him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I whisper against his skin.
“I’m not sure what to say,” he answers, trailing his fingers back and forth through the water.
“I mean, I’ve thought about what it would be like to see him again.
Especially after Karen showed up that one day, but I didn’t think he’d actually want to talk or whatever.
That wasn’t a scenario that ever crossed my mind.
I assumed he’d pretend like he never saw me or give me some curt head nod or something. ”
I hate that I have to ask the next question, but it’s one I need to know the answer to.
“Do you think talking to him would help you move on?”
“I just don’t know.” Taylor sighs, his body relaxing against mine.
I want to tell him I love him, but doing so because I feel threatened isn’t the right move, so as much as it pains me, I keep my mouth shut.
I wash Taylor’s skin, spending extra time on the forearm Patrick touched for my benefit as much as Taylor’s. He’s still sort of out of it when we crawl into bed, and it feels like there are miles between us despite his head resting on my chest and his hand on my stomach.