“She won’t like this. We’ll have the same sleeping arrangement and—”
“Um,” the woman squeaks, drawing our attention before her shoulders lift around her ears. “I don’t have a two bedroom, but I do have a larger one bedroom. It’s more like a suite plus a bedroom. A presidential-style suite. And as I mentioned before, I can put you on the waiting list for one of the penthouses up north or one of the fixer-uppers that are coming on the market in a few weeks. However, nothing this short term.”
“Right,” Knox says evenly, shoulder-checking me. “Put us on all the lists.”
I glower at him and keep replaying the mental image of him holding Hope down and fucking her, ignoring her whimpers, her hesitations, and talking to her, calling her his perfect little slut until she got in the rhythm. Did she grab his shoulders and drag her nails down his arms? Did she kiss him as he plowed into her perfect wet pussy? Did she pull him closer, push him away? And why the hell had she chosen him when Jax and I were options?
It rubs me wrong in too many ways. I want details as much as I don’t want them. I need to know if she liked it, if she wanted it, if she wanted him or all of us, if she’d begged him or if it had started like it used to.
“So, what do you think of this? It has a full foyer, there’s larger closets, the living room is twice the size, and there’s a balcony. Unfortunately, there’s no fire escape…” The woman keeps talking, leading us around.
The living room, kitchen, formal dining room, one and a half bathrooms, all of it feels huge.
“We don’t have two bedrooms, but with a room divider, the dining area could be a room itself, plus the master closet can actually fit a queen bed,” she says in a chipper voice.
Honestly, I don’t want to be with Knox anymore. I’d take any halfway decent place and agree just to be done with this.
I look over to say exactly that, but Knox is sizing everything up, checking the windows, and asking if we’d be able to put in our own locks. Something about that makes me pause. It’s obvious that we should be able to do that, but another unpleasant thought needles me. He should have stopped Coach from getting her.
He should have kept his word to her, should never have let her be taken. I cross my arms over my chest and take the place in. Third floor, elevator available, security downstairs, a full gym, laundry facility in the apartment and in the building so we have options. It fits our needs and it’s big enough for all of us. And I think it’s our only option.
“Dimitri?” Knox asks, his voice composed, pensive.
“Better than what we have. What’s the monthly?” I shoot back. Knox watches me carefully. One semi-kind sentence earns me that kind of look. At least I’m taking it out on the right person. The way that Hope’s been treating me lately, asking me to figure things out, shooting me worried glances at work, her handssizzling through my shirt against my chest before she’d stared at me with those “please kiss me” eyes… I’d ignored her look.
I didn’t want to misread things. I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable with me. Exhaling slowly, we nod, sign the paperwork, and agree to move in in two weeks, right at the end of the month.
Knox stops me on the stairs. He pats my chest. “This’ll be better. We won’t be breathing each other’s air constantly.”
My lips twist into a snarl. “Still don’t want to be stuck with you.”
“Will you just fucking tell me why you—”
“I have three damn good reasons. It was two… a forgivable two, but the third changes everything,” I snarl.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Look, I tried. I tried to deal with him, I just—”
“Couldn’t finish it. Couldn’t keep her from being taken, couldn’t wait to fuck her and make her yours alone,” I sneer. “A one-bedroom apartment for four people?”
“That’s all that’s available. Believe me, doors are my current best friend since you’re clearly out of the picture,” he snarls. “And for the record, we’re notalwaysgoing to fuck Hope together.”
“I don’t know if we’ll be able to do that at all, but what do you care, you already got to have her again,” I snarl.
Knox approaches, looks like he’s going to punch me, then exhales. “If she was done with us, she wouldn’t wait for us to get home every night. She wouldn’t be fucking cooking with you. She wouldn’t tolerate Jax in bed. She’s pushing me away plenty now and believe me, no one knows why more than me.”
He jogs down the stairs and I blink a few times. What is he talking about?
But the next day at work, I see it. Hope checks in with me when I avoid weights, because she’s paying attention. When Knox getsfrustrated or approaches her, she shifts slightly, eyes him for a moment, and only then calms. Jax is the one she goes to if she gets nervous, if someone startles her. The guys all know not to touch her without warning. Most don’t touch her at all, but Jax is her comfort. I’m the one she’s worried about and just stays with. Knox… he’s the one in no man’s land.
When we’re on the field running sprints and tackling dummies, I don’t see anger in him, not really. I see regret. Like he’s fighting himself—not the play, not the other players, just fighting with all the wrongs he’s thinking.
Nothing like self-punishment, I guess.
Ten
KNOX
This is going to crash and burn again, I keep thinking as we are surprising Hope with the new place. We’re not moving in for another ten days, but it’ll give her something tolook forward to. I keep glancing at the backseat where she’s sandwiched between Jaxon and Dimitri.
