Chapter 2
Two
Hallie
Knox continued to gaze at me with a crooked smile like he could read every frantic thought in my mind. Several seconds passed before I realized I hadn’t answered him yet. Glancing down at the Kindle, I finally lowered it to the table to hide the stickers, though it was definitely too late.
I forced out a little laugh. “I only like morally grey men in the books I read.”
Knox’s smile widened, flashing a row of perfect white teeth. “Yeah? What kind of fucked-up deeds do these fictional morally grey men commit?”
He crossed his arms against his chest as though this was a completely normal conversation for him. His inquisition came from curiosity, or maybe amusement, but he wasn’t appalled by it–and that was a relief.
“Well, they…” My voice trailed off for a moment as I struggled to form an answer that wouldn’t sound completely unhinged.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I looked across the table at his dark eyes, which were surprisingly eager as he awaited my confession.
“They cross a lot of lines that they shouldn’t, and they’re possessive as hell.
And these fictional morally grey men often take what they want… sometimes with dubious consent.”
God, I was rambling.
Sober Hallie would’ve never talked about any of this, especially not with Knox, whose head tilted ever-so-slightly at that last bit. “Dubious consent,” he echoed, the words coming out slowly like he was tasting every syllable.
Fuck. Why did it sound so much filthier coming out of his mouth? And how was he sitting there staring at me with just a hint of a smirk on his lips?
I tucked my hands under my thighs, lifting my chin in feigned confidence. “That’s what I said.”
“That something you’re into, Hallie?” he asked, his tone as casual as if he was asking me if I liked to go kayaking. It made my pulse quicken.
Was that something I was into?
God, he had no fucking clue.
“Only in the fictional sense. In real life, it’d be terrifying and not sexy at all,” I said in a rush, glancing over at the flamingo floatie in the pool. I had difficulty looking people in the eyes when I lied to them.
And it felt like Knox was reading me like a book. He was often a quiet observer when he showed up to our Rutherford gatherings, and I didn’t doubt he knew all of my tells when I was lying.
“At least, not without…” I continued, slowly dragging my gaze back over to Knox’s face. The truth was right on the tip of my tongue, and his patient expression was about to pull it out of me.
Still, I hesitated.
Because if I kept talking, I was going to shatter the illusion that I was just innocent little Hallie Rutherford.
I trusted Knox. I knew he wouldn’t run and tell my brother about this conversation. He wouldn’t weaponize it or bring it up again if I asked him not to. But there was this part of me that worried once someone saw you differently, you couldn’t put that back in the box.
“Not without… what?” he prodded.
“Not without some kind of prearranged, consensual non-consent agreement,” I said, knowing those words shifted this from something I only read about in fiction to an actual, real-life kink. With this admission, I was quietly exposing myself.
Knox’s eyebrows lifted, but he gave me a slow, attentive nod. “Consensual non-consent. Hmmm. How does that work?”
I sucked in a breath, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
The alcohol flowing through my veins made this conversation feel like a dream, where everything around me seemed to fade to black–and I could only see Knox.
And we were openly talking about my sexual kink, a subject I’d only ever broached aloud once before… with someone else.
And this time, I felt safer. It could’ve been my drunkenness making it easier to open up, but I knew my comfort had more to do with Knox’s steady, unjudging gaze than anything else.
This wasn’t scaring him.
“There has to be boundaries, safe words, and that kind of thing,” I said, relaxing my shoulders. I kept my voice low, even trying to sound a little sultry. Knox and I had flirted a little before, but never like this. “The consent happens before the… act.”
“Rape role-play, you mean,” he blurted.
None of the fireworks popping in the distant sky could compare to the explosions happening inside my head upon hearing those words. But only because they were coming out of the mouth of a man who, by all accounts, shouldn't have been capable of saying them so comfortably.
Not Knox.
Not the man who’d help my mom carry in her groceries without being asked.
Who’d picked me up from the train station two years ago, when I came home from college for Thanksgiving.
The guy who’d woven himself into my family so much that hearing something dark roll off his tongue sent a jolt all the way through my core.
“Uh. Yes,” I managed to say. “Something like that.”
For a moment, neither of us moved. We just stared, his eyes dancing with curiosity and the tiniest flicker of amusement, like he was waiting to see how far I’d go with this. My breath caught in my throat, but I didn’t look away. I couldn’t.
But then his expression shifted. Something softened in his face, and the corner of his mouth lowered as if a new thought had just landed hard. I watched his lips slowly part.
“You know, I… I probably shouldn’t have brought all of that up,” he murmured, reaching for the bottle cap again. “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I should probably just walk you to the garage and call it a night.”
The sudden shift in his demeanor threw me off.
Before I could protest going up to bed, he was already scooting back in his chair.
I followed suit, dizzily rising to my feet before gathering up my things.
“No, it–it’s fine,” I stuttered out, letting him lead me down the deck steps. “I’m tipsier than I realized.”
He let out a quiet chuckle, walking past the pool with his hands in the pockets of his swim trunks. The detached garage sat at the back of the property, a single yellow bulb glowing over the side door. Its light spilled down over the narrow strip of wildflowers in the landscaping.
I glanced over at Knox as we walked. His usual confidence had faded away, and there was a deep crease between his brows like he was replaying every word of that conversation over and over again in his mind. Like he regretted it.
My heart sank.
“Knox,” I said softly. He quickly glanced over, full of nervous energy. “I just want you to know… you didn’t make me uncomfortable, okay? You just surprised me.”
“Oh.” He looked down at his feet again as we neared the garage. The night breeze rustled through the flowers beside us, and in the distance, a few more fireworks popped and fizzled.
“That just wasn’t a topic I ever imagined I’d be discussing with you.”
He emitted a quiet chuckle. “Yeah, I didn’t exactly think my night would end with me asking you about… non-con role-play.”
My cheeks burned, but I nodded like this was just some ordinary conversation. But on the inside, I was screaming. Most people don’t go around shortening “non-consent” to “non-con.” Not unless it’s something they’ve spent time thinking about. Or reading about.
We stopped in front of the side door of the garage, where just inside, the steps led up to the little apartment. I turned to face him on the walkway, holding my Kindle by my side. The strap of my bikini top slid down one of my shoulders, and Knox glanced away as I adjusted it.
I could’ve dropped the topic entirely, but my drunk, curious brain wouldn’t let me. There was this reckless part of me that wanted to keep this going, and I couldn’t ignore it.
“I’ve actually only ever talked about this once before, and it didn’t go over very well,” I said, closing my eyes for a second as the memory infiltrated my mind. I could almost see Brody pacing around the room, suggesting I go talk to his priest.
Yes, his priest.
My ex was convinced I had some kind of buried childhood trauma I needed to confront, but that wasn’t it. It was just some stupid, fucked-up fantasy I couldn’t really explain, and I never should’ve tried. Not with him.
But right now, Knox wasn’t looking at me like I was broken or needed some kind of intervention. Instead, his gaze was steady and unflinching, like this fucked-up kink of mine didn’t even faze him. It felt like he wasn’t just looking at me. He was actually seeing me.
“Someone shamed you for it?” he guessed.
“Yeah,” I said, twisting the frayed hem of my jean shorts with my fingers. “It’s a fantasy that most people could never understand, so I’ve just decided to let it go.”
I shrugged one shoulder, running my hand over my pocket to check for my keys. Fuck, where were they? I glanced back up at Knox’s face to tell him I might have left my keys on my parents’ deck, but something about the look on his face made my stomach lurch.
“Ah. What a shame,” he said softly, turning his head slightly away so the words were carried away by the night breeze. I’d almost convinced myself I’d imagined them until I caught the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips as he lifted his gaze back to my face.
He was testing me, wasn’t he?
“It’ll never happen,” I asserted, clutching my Kindle a little tighter to my chest. “The chances of me ever finding someone I trust who shares the same–or, you know, the opposite–twisted fantasy as me? Literally zero. I’ll never make the mistake of bringing it up with another partner ever again.
That’s why I stick to reading about it, and that’s good enough for me. ”
“Hmm,” he said, running a hand along the edge of his beard, his eyes flicking toward the dark surface of the pool where the water reflected the moonlight in soft ripples.
Then, slipping his hands into the pockets of his swim trunks, he shifted his weight closer to me with a movement so subtle I barely registered it until his mouth was inches from my ear.
“Literally zero? I wouldn’t bet on those odds. ”
Knox pulled back just enough to really look at me, his eyebrows raised as he studied my expression, watching my mouth fall open. My breath hitched as the meaning of his words slammed into me, sending a hot tingle down my spine that landed somewhere between my legs.
No.
Not Knox.
Sweet, lovable Knox.
The man my mom kissed on the cheek and called her “bonus son” last Christmas. The man who took care of my family whenever he could. The gentle giant who treated me like a sister when he didn’t have to. There was no darkness to him. Only goodness.
But… I also knew how strong he was.
How dangerous he could be when he was pushed.
Adrian once told a story about Knox pistol-whipping a man who tried to rob a gas station—Knox just happened to be in line behind the guy who pulled a gun on the cashier. He didn’t hesitate. He just stopped it, later refusing to let any of us call him a hero.
But he was still the same reliable, soft Knox, who held babies and shoveled driveways and always kept his word.
I’d never even heard him raise his voice, but the way he was looking at me now, his eyes dark and almost predatory, led me to believe he wasn’t as harmless as I’d always assumed.
He was just toying with me, right?
He had to be.
I licked my lips, straightening myself as I lifted my chin to look up into his eyes. “You seem pretty certain that my odds aren’t zero. How can you be so sure?”
Though Knox’s rapidly rising chest told me he was breathing hard, he didn’t flinch.
His eyes bore into mine like they were reading straight through me, and a menacing smile stretched across his face.
Every second that passed, I felt the ground tilt beneath me, heat spreading across my skin in a way I couldn’t blame on the alcohol anymore.
It was all Knox.
And then he leaned in, bringing his mouth close enough that I could feel his breath on my cheek. “Because I know myself pretty well, Hallie. And I’m glad to finally meet this side of you.”