“Yeah.” His tone was clipped and unconvincing.
“Try again.” I nudged the side of his leg with my foot.
“Vince is blowing up my phone asking what we’re doing.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him we’re watching movies and eating junk food.”
“And that made you mad?”
“No. He asked if I would walk you up to the palace so you could stay with Oliver.”
“Oh.” I looked at him.Reallylooked at him.
He sat in the corner on the opposite side of the large couch, feet resting on the coffee table and Eugene’s head on his lap. He wore gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt, his tattoos spilling out from the sleeve. His scruff had grown out a bit and was well on its way to being a beard if he didn’t shave it soon. Those gold wire-rimmed glasses sat on his nose and his hair was messy. He was so hot. But he was also clearly bothered.
“Do you want me to go up to the palace and stay with Oliver?” I asked.
His head snapped to the side, eyes softening as they took me in.
“Do you want me to take you to Oliver?”
The fire crackled in the fireplace as the Christmas movie marathon we had started hours ago played on the television. I was happy. For the first time since I had been in Wexstone, I was truly comfortable and happy. I didn’t have to worry about squeezing into a fancy dress and praying that my feet would callus over before I had to shove my fat toes into another pair of heels. I didn’t have to listen to Bronson critique every little mannerism. I didn’t have to put on a fake smile for people I couldn’t care less about, and I didn’t have to convince myself to feel something for someone I didn’t love.
That day with Knox had been the perfect day.
“No. I don’t.”
“Then I won’t,” he said as he stared into my eyes for a few seconds longer. Then he grabbed my foot, pulled it onto his lap, and rubbed my sock-covered toes.
“What should we watch next?” Knox asked as the credits rolled along the screen.
“What are my options?”
“Christmas VacationorIt’s a Wonderful Life.”
“Christmas Vacation,” I answered, perhaps a bit too adamantly.
Knox gave me a questioning look.
“My mom’s favorite Christmas movie wasIt’s a Wonderful Life. We watched it every year on Christmas Day.”
“Her birthday,” he said knowingly.
“Her birthday,” I answered.
“Christmas Vacationit is.” He hit play and the music started. “This was my dad’s favorite Christmas movie. Honestly, it was one of his favorite movies in general. He loved Chevy Chase.”
“Knox,” I said as I pulled my foot back and sat up. “We don’t have to watch this. We don’t have to watch movies anymore. We can play cards, put on a TV show, whatever.”
“Birdie,” he answered, grabbing my other foot and pulling it into his lap. “I want to watch this with you. I love this movie.”
“Oh.” I lay back against the arm of the couch and pulled the blanket up to my chin. “I want to be there.”
“Where? Chicago?” Knox asked, pointing to the television that hung above his fireplace.
“No,” I giggled. I paused, taking a breath. “There, where you are. That place where you can experience things your parents loved without being triggered into a panic attack or being flooded with memories that wreck you.”
