Noted.
She exits, and Knox is still coughing into his elbow, face flushed.
I shoot him a sideways glance. “What? I needed to know.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
His grin tells me I’m not the only one who’s flustered. “So…pacing.”
“Mmhmm. Sounds like foreplay now involves electrolytes and a little extra patience,” I deadpan.
“More time to savor.” He lifts one brow, half-serious now. “You really okay?”
I pause, letting the silence pour over us before answering. “Getting there.”
And I almost mean it.
It’s dark by the time we arrive back home, and Knox draws me a warm bubble bath, lavender scent rising as the faucet hisses.
He stays close, perched on the tub’s edge, running the sponge over my legs, across my arms, over my shoulder, his touch almost reverential.
We talk about nothing. Favorite desserts. The Trouble Triplets. What groceries he’ll pick up to support my new treatment plan.
But every so often, he pauses, like maybe he’s thinking something he’s not ready to say.
By the time the water cools and my fingers prune, I feel wrung out in the best way. Relaxed, floaty,loved.
Once I’m settled in bed—towel-dried hair clinging to my neck, muscles finally loose—he leans in and presses a kiss to my lips, then disappears next door to nab Stripe and Shadow.
Only, he returns without them, shrugging like the decision was out of his hands. “Trouble Triplets refused to give them back. Said we needed one night alone to rest, without those furballs crawling up our spines.”
I blink hard, trying to keep it together, but the warmth rises anyway, crawling up my throat like it might spill out if I breathe too deep.
Those ladies are starting to feel like my extended family.
And that undoes me more than I care to admit.
“That was really thoughtful of them,” I say, trying hard not to let emotion slip through.
“I’m beginning to think they like us,” Knox says with a grin, then excuses himself to shower.
When he finally joins me in bed, heat still clinging to his skin, the scent of sandalwood wraps around me like gravity. I’ve missed having him this close. Missed the feel of him beside me.
“Hey, beautiful.”
The mattress dips as he inches closer, his mouth curving in that signature tilt that always undoes me far too easily.
“Hi, handsome,” I say, my words catching, balanced on the edge of want and wonder.
The moment settles before I reach for him, my fingers drifting to his shoulder, resting there.
“Thanks for getting me to the hospital, for staying with me, and making it all feel less terrifying.”
His expression softens, the grin fading into something sweeter.
Placing his hand over mine, he says, “Nowhere else I’d rather be. And like I said at the hospital, you scared me. Staying? That was the easy part.” His thumb brushes across my knuckles. “Cami…are you really okay?” His eyes search mine, serious now. “Because your health, well, that’s everything to me. I’ve been reading up on POTS, and I know it’s going to take some adjusting. But I’m here for all of it. Foryou. Anytime you’re not feeling right, dizzy, tired, anything, I need you to tell me. Promise me that.”
