29. Cheyenne
Cheyenne
I wake in the dark with a racing heart. For one disoriented second, I have no idea where I am.
The air smells faintly of soap and something masculine.
Panic spikes before my brain has a chance to fully catch up.
The terror hits hard enough to suck me under as everything returns in fragmented pieces.
The zoo.
Laughing with Knox.
Stepping off the elevator and finding the box with a shattered frame and note.
Fear like I’d never known had crashed over me like a wave.
Knox had wrapped me in his arms and held me until everything inside had calmed. He’d run a bath before joining me in it.
The memories are enough for my breathing to calm. I turn my head and realize I’m not alone. I’m in Knox’s bed. His arm is draped loosely over my waist, his chest warm against my back. Heat from his body surrounds me, and with it comes a truth I can’t ignore.
I asked him to make love to me.
My throat constricts. Even after the bath and the way he touched me, kissed me, brought me to orgasm until I was shaking with it, he didn’t take anything for himself. He hadn’t used the moment to get what he wanted, even though I offered myself up freely.
The realization is almost startling.
I lie still for a while, listening to the slow rhythm of his breathing and feeling the solid weight of him behind me before rolling carefully onto my back so I can look at him.
Really look at him.
Even in sleep, the man is ridiculously beautiful.
He’s on his side, one arm stretched across the pillow where my head had been a second ago, his face is relaxed, making him look younger. The bruise under his eye still looks painful. It’s a reminder of everything that’s happened in the past few days.
Emotion presses behind my ribs, but not from fear. It’s something deeper and far more complicated.
It’s impossible not to compare this man to Dakota. My ex would have pushed for more. Not because he wanted me to feel good or he cared whether I was ready, but because taking was how he quieted the insecurities gnawing at him beneath the surface. Even when I was tired or needed space.
Only now, lying here in the dark, do I fully understand how exhausting that relationship was. How much of myself I spent managing his moods, needs, and reactions. How normal I’d let that feel.
And Knox?
Knox had every opportunity to take more. Instead, he only thought about what I needed at that moment. He gave me pleasure and asked for nothing in return.
That alone feels like a revelation.
My mother would have turned Dakota’s unhinged gift into content. The show would’ve needed a moment. A twist. A teaser for the next episode. Everything in my life has always had to become something bigger, shinier, more dramatic than it really was. It all had to feed the machine.
But Knox didn’t make it into a moment. Instead, he made space for me to breathe.
My fingers curl in the sheets as the realization sinks even deeper. This man sees me. Not the brand or the show. Not the polished version of Cheyenne Benson people expect.
Maybe that’s what terrifies me most. Once you know what it feels like to be seen in that way and to be cared for with intention…
There’s no going back to pretending you can live without it.
I shift closer before I can talk myself out of it. My hand slides over his shoulder, lightly tracing the line of muscle, not wanting to wake him. What I need is the reassurance that he’s real. That last night happened and it wasn’t a figment of my imagination.
I lean in and press my lips to his collarbone. Almost immediately, his eyes open. They’re alert and focused. The first thing in them isn’t confusion or desire.
It’s concern.
“Hey, are you okay?”
The tenderness in his sleep-filled voice nearly undoes me.
I nod, my fingers resting against his shoulder. “Yeah, I am.”
He studies my face, as if he can sense there’s more.
“I just…” I swallow. “I needed to touch you. To know you were really here.”
“I’m here,” he murmurs. “I meant it earlier. I’m not going anywhere.”
My heartbeat picks up tempo at the way he continues to reassure me, seeming to mean every word.
“Last night wasn’t a mistake,” I whisper. I want him to understand that I don’t regret any of it.
His gaze holds mine. “Good. I’m glad. I’d hate if you did. And I’d hate it even more if you felt like I took advantage of you.”
Everything in me softens. Even half asleep, this is what Knox is worried about. Not whether he could have had more, but if I regret allowing him so close.
“You didn’t. Not at all.”
His eyes search mine, almost as if he’s trying to pick through my private thoughts.
“You were exactly what I needed in the moment,” I admit.
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “Are you sure?” His fingers brush over my cheek.
“I am.”
He leans in slowly until his lips meet mine in a kiss that feels nothing like the ones we’ve shared. It’s not desperate or heated from the first second. This one is slower, deeper, and filled with intention as I melt into it.
My hand slides up his chest and over his shoulder, my fingers curling into the hard muscle of his back as I pull him closer.
He shifts against me, his arm wrapping around me, his body fitting to mine.
Heat builds gradually between us as his hand moves along my side, up my spine, then down again in a slow glide that leaves every inch of me clamoring for more.
I press closer, wanting to feel the hard lines of his sculpted body.
The desire pumping through me is so much more than physical.
For the first time, it feels like I’m actually seeing the man buried beneath all the hype.
Knox is surprising me in ways I could never have expected.
A breath catches in my throat as my palm slides over the firm planes of his stomach before sinking lower. He catches my wrist loosely in his grip. It’s just enough to stop me.
I blink up at him, my breathing uneven. His forehead drops to mine, and he closes his eyes, as if trying to gather himself before opening them again.
“If we do this,” he says quietly, voice rough, “it changes everything.”
The comment hangs in the air between us. A stark warning that if we cross this line, there’s no going back to what we’ve always been.
“I know.”
His thumb strokes my cheek, his expression torn as he continues to hold himself back. That might be what gets to me the most. Not the fact that he wants me, but that he’s doing his damnedest not to.
I scoot closer before resting my head against his chest. For a long moment, neither of us speaks. His heartbeat is a steady thump beneath my cheek as his hand drifts along my back.
My eyelids fall before I even realize it.
Safe.
That’s the only word that flits through my brain. I’m safe enough to fall asleep without worrying about what comes next.
And that has everything to do with the man holding me.