24. Willow
WILLOW
Ithink I broke him. We just finished the last set of my light two-hour workout, and Knox is lying on the floor on his back, spread out like a starfish, still trying to catch his breath.
When I woke up today, the plan was to do my full-body workout to try and burn some of the tension that has been building in my normally peaceful home.
When Knox said he wanted to do my routine, I made the decision to switch to the lighter one to get him used to it.
I could tell that he mainly focused on strength training.
After the warmup, he seemed confident, so I kept going. Towards the end, I could tell he was struggling. When I joked that we weren’t stopping, I thought he knew it was sarcasm. Looking back now, I think he took it as a challenge and pushed it too far.
Oh well. Now he knows his problem areas to work on.
I’ve been working out with the soldiers since I was eight, and feel like I have a well-rounded routine that keeps me in fighting shape.
I don’t have jobs all the time, but I like to be ready when I do and not have to train for them ahead of time.
Usually, I would do some sparring or hit the bag for a while at the end of the workout, but Knox is the only one here, and he hasn’t gotten off the floor yet, so I’ll take that as a no.
Maybe if we get his stamina up a little, we can try later.
But I’m not sure if he does hand-to-hand combat training.
Through the years, I have earned a few blackbelts and dabble in different fighting styles.
I almost wish that I could call Grey to see if he wants to spar, but I don’t think we are there quite yet in our “journey to being civil.”
“You okay?” I ask as I walk over and nudge Knox’s outstretched arm with the toe of my shoe.
“I’m good. Just give me a sec, and we can head out,” he says between breaths as he looks up at me from the floor, panting like he just ran a marathon. “How are you not dying when I don’t think I can feel most of my body?” he asks before shutting his eyes again and focusing on his breathing.
“This is my easy day routine,” I reply, being honest with him but not adding that I usually start sparring now. I feel like he wouldn’t appreciate it. Even though I leave it out, he opens his eyes slowly and looks at me like I have two heads.
Not knowing what else to say, I shrug my shoulders and start walking back towards my phone and water bottle. “I’m going to head back in the house and get ready for work,” I say as I turn around.
He’s off the ground now and is giving me an annoyed look. “I don’t think that I can get my legs to work right, and you’re acting like we just went on a stroll through the park or some shit,” he says like he is trying to figure out how this is happening.
“It will get easier when you get into shape. When I was gone on the job for a few weeks and couldn’t work out every day, I had to skip the sparring part, too. But after a few days, I got back into it. You just need to up your training,” I tell him in a reassuring voice.
“Sparring?” he asks, sounding even more irritated now. Shit. I forgot to leave that out.
“We can work our way up to that, if you want. We can do the two-hour sessions until you can handle the four-hour ones, then we can work on sparring if you want to learn.” I realize I’m rambling, not knowing how to make him see that it is okay that he is a beginner.
“I’m in shape! I work out every day!” he says in a defensive tone.
“That’s okay. I thought you focused on mostly weight training. I do a little of everything, so it’s just different for you, but that’s okay,” I say as I give him a smile. He’s being more sensitive than my idiots when I beat them in the gym or the shooting range. Guys are so dramatic sometimes.
He just keeps staring at me. Not knowing what to say, I walk towards the door.
When I pass him, he takes a hold of my arm, stopping me and making me turn to face him.
I could easily break free out of his hold.
I’ve never been okay with being manhandled, but when it comes to Knox, I find myself enjoying it.
Looking up at him, he brings his other hand up and firmly grabs the back of my head, crashing his lips to mine in a hard kiss. He pulls back, too soon for my taste, breaking the toe-curling kiss that came out of fucking nowhere. As I slowly open my eyes, my senses come back to me.
“Thanks for the work out, baby,” he says in a low, gravelly voice and smiles down at me.
I’m not sure if my brain is slightly melted from the kiss or his crazy mood swing, but I’m left with nothing to say, which would be a first for me.
All I can do is give him a small smile and hope he thinks that my face is as red as it is because of the work out that we just finished.
He releases me, and I turn to start walking to the door again when I feel a sharp slap on my ass.
I let out a surprised yelp and look over my shoulder to glare at him.
He just gives me his stupid, adorable smirk and shrugs his shoulders.
I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that he smacked my ass or the fact that I surprisingly liked it.
I choose not to comment on it since I’m not sure if I can form words yet.
I continue my walk to the door on unsteady legs, back to the house to get ready for my day.
After my shower, I decide on my favorite jeans and well-worn, vintage Eagles band T-shirt that I found at a thrift store when we first moved here.
Knox finds me next to the coffee pot again to tell me that he is heading out and asking what time I’ll be home.
I tell him that I’m working in the office today and will be done by 5.
He lets me know that he will be back at 5:30.
He gives me a slow, sweet kiss, and leaves.
I have no idea how kissing him feels almost natural now. I still need to know if he does this with every girl, or if this is as real as it feels. I don’t know how to even bring that up, or if I even should, this soon after we met.
There’s also the issue of Grey staying with me, too.
I’m not going to lie, it’s nice having him around.
Not just for the fact that I feel like I have to rein in how I feel about Knox, but also because even though he annoys the shit out of me, his strong silence is comforting.
There’s the added bonus of him being so nice to look at.
But I don’t know how long “Civil Grey” will stay until “Asshole Grey” shows back up.
The back and forth between his two personalities is giving me whiplash.
Some small part in my head is just telling me to go with it.
After years of having to worry about all possible outcomes, it’s kind of nice to just let things happen.
I know I’m only twenty-four, but I feel like I never had the chance to experience anything when it comes to men.
I will just take things as they come, try not to worry for once, and let go of the control that I usually hold onto for dear life.
I open the door to my home office and mentally prepare to get my day started.
I have a shit ton of emails and calls to catch up on, and I’m not looking forward to them.
I’m counting down the days until all the behind-the-scenes stuff for the businesses calms down and I can just let Tessa and John bring me in when needed.
I start with my emails. Opening the first one, my stomach drops as I realize it isn’t from one of the contractors.
Looks like the wannabe poet got my email, and there are more photos.
I click through the photos first, and the pit in my stomach grows with each one that lights up my screen.
There are pictures from the last few days, up until last night, and even some that were taken this morning.
It’s like he’s trying to taunt me about being able to get close to me as I live my everyday life without being seen.
When I reach the pictures at the bottom of the email, my heart speeds up.
There are no photos from inside the house, only the outside and garage, so that’s a plus, I guess.
The locks on the doors of my house engage automatically when I set the alarm, which I did after Knox left this morning.
I usually don’t when I’m home, but Dad asked me to before he left.
I double check the alarm app on my phone and see they are still engaged.
There are pictures of Knox and I kissing next to my car, and a few of Grey and Knox coming and going from my house yesterday and this morning.
Shit. This is going to suck to have to send to Dad.
I don’t want him to see them. They’re personal.
But I would never hide the stalker information from him.
I know he will want to see the email after I tell him.
I open the attachment for the note last and realize it’s just as bad as last time.
My Wandering Willow,
Some will try to feed from our darkness to fuel their own light. Your darkness is mine as mine is yours. I will bring their greed for your darkness to the light, but your darkness will never be divided. They were not made to see the barren plains, only the excruciating flames of the below.
My shadows are always near.
Why does he have to be creepy about it? I take a deep, calming breath and let it out to try and collect my feelings about the bullshit that I am about to endure.
Getting myself together as much as I can, I pick up my phone, bring up Dad’s number, and call him.
The goal is to summarize it before I forward it to him.
Maybe if he isn’t blindsided by the email, he will remain calm and collected.
He answers on the second ring. “Hi baby girl, what’s going on?” I usually call him while I’m making dinner, so he’s already suspicious.