My stomach begins to tingle. I blame the hot chocolate. “Okay. No one knows that I’ve moved to Aspen. You.”
He sips his hot chocolate. “I was accepted at Colorado Mountain College to study psychology but am not going to go. You.”
I choke. The drink goes down my throat and I cough a few times.Knoxis interested inpsychology? Can someone please pinch me? That’s hot. Really fucking hot.
“Is there a joker in this game?” I adopt a mischievous grin. “I’d like to play it and ask a question.”
“Nope, sadly not. Your turn, Paisley.”
I look at the movie. “My mother is a crack whore, and the youth welfare office took me away from her when she attempted to sell me for two backpacks full of drugs. You.”
Knox jerks up. His hot chocolate sloshes over the side of the cup and lands on the blanket in a big brown spot. For a second he doesn’t know what to do with his cup, then puts it down on the carpet and looks at me. “Wait.What?”
“No questions. Just answers,” I repeat. In the meantime, I regret having told him this, but it was like I was intoxicated somehow. I really wanted to just throw this truth away from me, I thought I’d feel better. But I feel even worse.
Knox doesn’t move a centimeter, but deep lines form across his forehead, and he looks at me with an expression I don’t know how to interpret. “Paisley…”
“Your rules,” I say. “No answers.”
He pulls in his lower lip, then thoughtfully runs his tongue across his lips. “Then I’m a spoilsport, but… My God, Paisley. I’d be a serious asshole if I didn’t respond. We can’t simply sweep past this one.”
“Sure we can.” I’m holding onto my hot chocolate like a life preserver. “We can.” My voice is trembling, and I can feel my eyelids prickling. So I lower my head and pretend to inspect the reindeer on my cup more closely. But then I feel a finger on my chin, and let Knox gently lift it back up. I’m sure he sees the tears in my eyes that I’m trying to keep down. Of course he does.
“I don’t know anyone—and I meananyone—who impresses me as much as you do, Paisley.”
His words awaken the strong desire in me to live, to put my hands to his face and pull him toward me. After what I just told him, this should be the last thing coming into my head, but I can’t stop it. And I’m sick and tired of going against my own feelings. I’m so sick and tired of this constant fear of being hurt. I want to be happy. Simply happy.
Before I can think about how to get closer to him, however, Knox runs a hand through his hair and turns to look at the floor. He looks like he’s thinking about something. Or wrestling with himself. “Fuck it.” He takes the cup out of my hand and puts it down on the ground without looking. Then he gives me a look as if his life depended on this very moment. “I’ve got to do this, Paisley.”
And then Knox kisses me.
25
You and Me Are Wild Magic
Paisley
Vetiver.
That’s the first thing that crosses my mind when his lips meet mine. Knox smells of vetiver, and, God, Ilovethis smell. So much so that I dig my hands into his hair and pull him closer. My heart is pounding. I am sure that Knox can hear every single beat.
As he delicately runs his fingers down my throat he makes a rough sound, like a lion’s purr. I shudder. The center of my body begins to tingle and then contracts. I have never wanted anyone this bad.
I feel dazed. Absent. Intoxicated. His lips are soft and electrifying.
Silk and storms.
The sounds of the music and the crackling of the fire are nothing but background now. Transparent. Not here and not there, as Knox’s caresses are taking me in completely. A powerful line I am clinging to as he holds me.
My fingers stroke his scalp. I can feel his fine hair tickling my skin. I can’t get enough, I can’t get enough, I can’t get enough. Knox can feel how badly I want him, I am sure of it; he keeps making that noise, you can barely hear it, barely catch it, it’s almost a whisper, but so intense that something inside me explodes.
God, I’m so hot, he’s so hot, and it’s got nothing to do with the fire and our warm bodies. I am dizzy and suddenly I wonder if this is all okay. But it has to be, it simply has to be, because the thought of stopping everything causes a black hole to appear within me.
“Paisley…” Knox whispers in between two caresses, and the way he says it makes it sound like something saintly. Like something delicate he is holding in his hands, carefully and thoughtfully, so that it won’t break. I have never felt the sound of my name like this before. I never knew youcouldfeel your name, but now I know you can. It’s rare, I know that much immediately, Ifeelthat much immediately, and when that feeling comes, for a moment there is nothing more beautiful. I briefly hold my breath, enjoy the soft tingling beneath my skin—who knows when I’ll feelthisagain?IfI’ll ever feel it again?
Knox’s hands burn my cheeks and yet I want him to leave them there forever. The way he’s kissing me, as if he needed it, as if he was thirsty, the way he’s turning me on, his breath quick and flat between every touch of our lips, it’s like he’s dying of hunger. As if he had to take everything he could from this moment out of the fear of never being able to experience it ever again.
I know this because it’s the same for me. Theexactsame. The idea that this moment and this kiss on the scuffed, sinking couch—the most valuable couch in the world for me right now—could be it, the only one, is unacceptable.
