And he’s not alone.
There’s a woman with him.
I grab the remote and mute the sound, my heart beginning to hammer in his chest. Knox isn’t supposed to be back for at least another day. I’m sure of it. The earliest he said he’d manage to get back into Springville would be tomorrow night, he told me before he left.
Why would he lie to me?
As the minutes pass, I start to realize why. The sound of music, some sort of R and B, starts to play, and then the two voices grow more animated. The woman is laughing, a fakey tinkling sound that grates on my nerves and makes me feel angry and sick.
Then there’s a rumble of laughter from Knox.
And a low moan from the woman.
I listen, in shock and horror, to the muffled but unmistakable sounds of two people beginning to have sex.
Knox doesn’t even have the courtesy to try to keep her quiet. She moans and cries out with the rhythm of what must be his thrusts. It goes on for minutes like that, as I sit frozen on the couch — fingernails digging into my palms, tears streaming down my face. I can’t believe he’s doing this. He must know I can hear them. I can’t believe he doesn’t care. I consider pounding on the wall, I almost go pound on his front door and demand an explanation, but I can’t. I’m too humiliated. I feel like a fool, thinking that everything that’s happened between Knox and me meant anything to him. Clearly, I was just a way to fill the time until someone better came along. And apparently, he was such a coward or an asshole that he thought a transparent lie about being out of town would be a good test of whether I’d be fool enough to play along.
At one point, I run to the bathroom and actually think I’m going to vomit. I stand over the toilet and sob, and like an idiot I actually try to be quiet about it. Because I don’t want him to hear me. I don’t want him to know that I actually care enough to be hurt by him.
When I’m so exhausted and dehydrated I can’t cry anymore, I go into the living room to turn off the stupid romantic comedy. Knox’s apartment is silent on the other side of the wall now. It makes me feel sick all over again to look at the frozen screen with the two main characters in the middle of a cute, banter-y argument, when everyone knows they’re going to fall in love with each other by the end. That’s not the way it happens in real life, I remind myself bitterly.
In real life, assholes are assholes, and girls who fall for them are fools.
16
knox
After the third day of mini-camp, just as soon as we’re done, I shower up as quick as I can and head out of town back to Springville.
I haven’t talked to or texted Ivy since I left. Mostly because I didn’t want to miss her even more, but partly because I was fuckin’ exhausted at the end of every day and I just wanted to eat and go to sleep. I can hardly wait to see her, so much so that I have to stop myself from ignoring the speed limit completely and racing back to Springville as fast as I can dodge between the other cars on the road.
I know from Cash’s most recent text that he finally showed up at my place yesterday. I just hope that fucker had the sense to take the bed in the guest room instead of going straight for my king-size one. I’m not too optimistic, though. Cash is kind of a mooch, even in the best of circumstances. If he has gone for my room, I plan to beat his ass over it. Right now, though, all I can think about is getting back to Ivy, and getting her straight into bed.
When I get back into town, I head straight to the condo. I stop at my place just long enough to drop off my stuff. Cash isn’t there, but evidence of him is everywhere: empty beer bottles, an open bag of chips on the coffee table, with a pile of crumbs on the couch next to it. I almost trip over a faded hoodie and a single flip-flop lying on the entryway floor. I don’t know how the hell he manages to leave such a trail of destruction in such a short damn time, but he’s always been this way. At least he’s set up camp in the guest room, I observe dryly as I walk past, noting the sheets and blankets in a tangled mess at the foot of his unmade bed.
I set my duffel bag just inside the door to my bedroom and then walk back out into the living room. When I drove up I noticed Ivy’s car out front, so unless she’s out walking Zeus she’s probably there. I start for my front door, then change my mind and opt for the balcony entrance instead, smiling a little at the memory of the day we met.
The first thing I notice is that there are new curtains on the inside of the French doors, so I can’t see in.
Frowning, I tap lightly on the wood. No answer. I knock again, louder this time. Inside, I hear the muted whuff of Zeus’s bark, but there’s still no answer. Which is weird, because I’m the only person who would be knocking from the balcony. If Ivy’s there, she knows it’s me. Which I guess means she’s not there.
Huh.
Disappointed, I wander back to my place and start cleaning up all the shit my brother left lying around. It’s almost dinner time, and I’m hungry, but I was sort of hoping to take Ivy out somewhere. I hold off on eating for a while, and about an hour later, go back out on the balcony.
This time, there’s a light on in the living room. I’m almost positive it wasn’t on before.
I bang on the door.
I swear I see just the hint of a movement on the other side of the curtains.
But she still doesn’t answer.
“Ivy!” I yell. “Ivy, I know you’re in there. Open up!”
For a second, I wonder if she’s hurt herself and is lying inside needing help. But it seems like Zeus would definitely be the kind of dog to bark or come get me or something if she is. I consider breaking the door down, but I don’t want to be a jackass without any actual proof.
“Goddamnit,” I seethe, and stalk back inside my place.
I spend the evening listening for even the slightest noise that might tell me she’s in there, but there’s nothing. Finally, about ten-fifteen, I hear a soft, slow thump near the entryway on the other side of my wall. I frown, trying to figure out what it could be, then realize it’s Zeus’s tail. I fucking race to the front door and open it just in time to find Ivy on the other side. The look on her face makes it obvious she was trying to take the dog out for a walk without making any noise.
“What the fuck, Ivy?” I demand when she locks eyes with me.
“Leave me alone,” she snaps. Her voice is ice cold.
“Ivy, what the hell? Why weren’t you answering your damn door?” My stomach drops to see her so obviously hostile. This is not at all how I left her three days ago.
She cuts narrowed eyes at me. “I’m not required to answer the door whenever you want me to, Knox.”
She’s fucking mad at me. I have no idea why. “No,” I say in confusion. “Of course not. But I thought maybe something had happened to you. I almost broke the door down.”
Ivy laughs bitterly. “Why would you care whether something happened to me?”
“What?!” Okay, now I’m starting to get pissed. “Why would you say something shitty like that, Ivy? Of course I’d care if something happened to you. Why the fuck are you so bent out of shape?”
She rolls her eyes, then crosses her arms and for the first time looks me directly in the eyes.
“How was ‘camp’?” she says sarcastically.
I shake my head and shrug. “It was fine. I missed you. But…”
She cuts me off with a sharp bark of laughter. “Oh, stop it, Knox. Why the hell didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to be exclusive? That you wanted to … fuck other women.” She spits the word out like it’s a weapon. “I don’t even know why you even tried to tell me you were going to be out of town. God, you couldn’t even be bothered to keep whoever it is you brought home with you from screaming while you screwed her right next door.” Her voice trembles with rage, and her eyes are bright with what I realize are suppressed tears. “Why the fuck would you not just go to a hotel if you were too much of a coward to tell me you were sleeping with other people?!”
My mind is racing to keep up with her, to fi
gure out what the hell she’s talking and why she thinks I’m cheating on her. Then something clicks in my head, and the horrible realization of what must have happened hits me like a train.
“Ivy,” I begin, “It’s not what you think.”
“Oh, my God!” she screams in fury, her eyes wild with rage. “Can you seriously not be any more original than that? Could you not have just this once, not have completely met my expectations of what a dick you are, and at least just say, ‘You’re right, Ivy, I’m an asshole and I’m sorry I did this to you’?”
“No,” I snap. “Because you’re wrong. You’re fucking wrong, Ivy.” I take a step toward my condo. “Come with me,” I say, reaching for her arm. But she freezes and pulls back with a look of pure hate.
“Don’t you fucking touch me!” she yells. I’m pretty sure the neighbors are going to start coming out if I don’t quiet her down.
“Ivy.” I keep my voice as calm as I can. “Come with me. Give me thirty seconds to show you that I mean what I say when I tell you you’ve got it wrong. After that, if you still don’t believe me, I’ll hand you a heavy object and stand still while you throw it at me.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but she doesn’t seem to know quite how to react. Her face is a mask of anger as we lock stares. I wait in silence for her to say something.
Finally, wordlessly, her eyes flick away from mine toward my door. It’s just for a second, but it’s all I need.
“Come on,” I say. I turn around and walk inside, hoping she’ll follow me.
I head through the living room, down the hallway, and stop at the entrance to the guest room. When I finally do look back, Ivy’s trailing a few feet behind me, suspicion etched all over her features.
“Come here,” I say, pointing inside. Slowly, she walks closer and looks in.
“That fucking tornado in there belongs to my brother Cash,” I tell her. “He’s here for a visit. Showed up yesterday. I left a key for him under the mat.”
Ivy doesn’t react, and I don’t expect her to. All I want right now is for her to stay here and listen to me — long enough for her to start believing that I’m not lying to her.
“Cash is kind of a slut,” I continue, keeping my voice low and even. I let just the slightest hint of a laugh come through. “My guess is as soon as he got here, he went out bar hopping and picked up some girl to bring back here. That’s kind of his style.”
I can see the gears working in Ivy’s head. She’s trying to figure out whether I’m feeding her a line, weighing the scene in front of her next to what she’s convinced herself was true. I stand there, motionless, waiting.
Finally, there’s just a hint of softening in her face. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. I suppress a sigh of relief and feel my muscles relax a little.
“It’s okay, Ivy,” I murmur, turning to face her. “I get why you might have made this mistake.”
“It’s just…” she starts, and then shakes her head. She’s flushed, clearly upset, and probably embarrassed. “I mean, it’s not like we’re…”
“Ivy.” Her eyes are down, refusing to meet mine. “It’s not like we’re what?” I persist.
“It’s not like we’re… together, or anything.” Her voice cracks, and she clears her throat. “I just was wishing you’d told me. I thought you were lying to me, is all.”
“We’re not?” I ask.
“Not what?” She looks at me in confusion.
“We’re not together?”
“I mean,” she stammers. “I mean… are we?”
“Do you want to be?”
I study her face as she frowns and flushes even deeper red. “I… I just thought…”
“Ivy,” I murmur. I lift her chin and raise her face to mine. Her eyes flick away for a second, and I wait until they come back to me. “I’ll be honest with you,” I tell her. “I don’t have much of a history of being in relationships. I’m not so sure I’m all that good at it. But,” I continue, “I haven’t been with anyone since I met you. And I don’t want to be. I’d like to see where this goes.”
I dip my head and brush my lips against hers. As I draw her against me, I feel her shiver a little.
“I promise I won’t lie to you, Ivy,” I say. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I kiss her again, more deeply this time.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” I murmur. “I’ve fucking missed you, Ivy.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” she breathes.
Her lips part to my insistent mouth, moaning softy as my tongue finds hers. Between my legs, I feel myself stiffen for her. Three days is a goddamn eternity. I need to be inside her, now.
I lift Ivy in my arms, and carry her into my bedroom. Pressing her down on the bed, I cover myself with her, groaning with pleasure as she wraps her legs around me and begins to grind her hips against my cock. She wants it as badly as I do. I pull down her shorts and then practically rip my jeans off. I suppress a groan as I watch her pull off her own shirt and unhook the bra underneath. Her breasts fall free, heavy and ripe. I can’t wait another goddamn minute. I reach over to the nightstand but Ivy stops me with a word. “No,” she says softly, reaching for my arm.
“What?”
She hesitates for a second. “I’m on the pill,” she tells me then. “I want you… without the condom.”
Oh, FUCK yes. “You sure?” I ask, giving her one chance to refuse.
Her eyes are wide and dark as she looks at me. “Yes. Now, Knox.”
I lean over and catch one of her nipples in my mouth. My cock starts to throb as she moans and strains toward me. I reach down between her legs. She’s wet as hell, plump, swollen, and ready for me.
“Jesus, Ivy,” I rasp. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”
“Yes. Oh, God, Knox, please…” her thighs are quivering, muscles tight with anticipation. Fuck. With a low groan, I slide inside her. She mewls and arches her hips up to meet me. The feeling of skin on skin is so intense that I have to freeze for a second to get hold of myself before I lose control. I take a couple of deep breaths, reveling in the sensation of her warm, wet skin enveloping me. It’s almost impossible, it feels so good. After a couple of seconds, I pull out, then plunge into her heat up to my hilt. As she gasps, I stay inside and start to rocking against her. At this angle, the tip of my cock presses against her front wall, and as I rock, suddenly Ivy’s eyes fly open, her lips parting with pleasure.
“Oh, shit, Knox,” she gasps. “Oh my God, that feels so good…”
My entire body strains as I try to hold back for her. My hands grip hard on her hips as they roll and grind against me. She’s fucking beautiful like this, flushed and lost in the throes of ecstasy. I try to focus, try to etch every line of her body into my mind so I’ll never, ever forget the sight of her losing herself in pleasure around my cock. Her moans change to sharp cries of need, and I’m getting ready for her to come around me, getting ready to explode inside her, finally inside her, to coat her with my juices, to fill her up…
Crash!
The front door flies open.
“Hey, big bro! You home?”
I groan loudly as Ivy freezes in horror. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “It’s Cash.”
17
ivy
The best orgasm of my life. It was going to be the absolute best, I could tell. Whatever Knox was doing, the way his shaft hit this… spot inside me that I didn’t even know I had. God, it was so intense, so… delicious.
And then, the absolute proof that Knox wasn’t lying to me about cheating comes crashing through the door at the worst possible time.
“Shit!” I hiss, pushing him away from me. “The bedroom door’s open!”
Knox pulls out of me quickly, leaving me feeling immediately empty and frustrated. I scramble to pull the covers over my naked body. He reaches down and grabs his pants. Yanking them on, he hops toward the bedroom door and calls out, “Yeah, I’m here. Stay in the living room.”
&
nbsp; “What?” Cash calls back, his voice getting closer.
“Stay in the fucking living room, Cash!” Knox commands.
By now, he’s reached the bedroom door. He zips up his fly and steps out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. I relax and heave a sigh of relief. Which doesn’t last long when I realize that I probably have to go out there and meet Knox’s little brother under the most mortifying of circumstances. I sit on the bed and swear silently to myself for a few seconds, trying to think of a way out of this. I even contemplate trying to climb out through the window, but realize that would make me look like a psycho.
On the other side of the door, murmurs of male voices reach me as I get up and pull on my clothes. My skin is still electrified by the memory of Knox’s touch. I try to ignore the deep throbbing between my legs, hoping it will go away soon so I can meet his brother without dying of embarrassment. When I’m dressed, I look around for a mirror to at least try to comb some semblance of order into my disheveled mess of hair, but there isn’t one. In the end, I go to the window and squint at my reflection as I rake my fingers through my locks until it looks as good as it’s going to get.
Then, with a deep sigh of resignation, I pull open the door and step outside.
I trudge down the hallway like I’m walking to the electric chair. When I get into Knox’s living room, he’s sitting on the couch, with a slightly younger, slimmer version of him lounging in the leather easy chair. Knox gets up and comes to me.
“Hey, there,” he murmurs. He gives me a wink and a reassuring smile. “Cash,” he says then, placing his hand on the small of my back. “This is Ivy. She lives next door.”
“Ivy,” Cash nods. He stands up and sticks his hand out with an easy grin. “Good to meet you.”
My face flames with heat as I step forward and shake. It feels ridiculous to be acting like he didn’t basically just catch us having sex. Then again, it’s better than having to actually acknowledge it. “Hi,” I say lamely. “Good to meet you, too.”
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