I snort, pressing my face to his chest. “Wow. First-time fantasy, shattered.”
“Hey,” he teases, brushing a thumb over my lower lip, “at least she became my girlfriend afterward, regardless of whether it only lasted a month.”
Our laughter fades, and now it’s the sound of us breathing plus waves pounding against the shore.
I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my palm, solid and sure, and it hits me how safe I always feel with him.
He tilts his head, watching me with those steel eyes that never seem to miss a thing. “So, what about you? How many boyfriends did High School Cami have?”
I let out a short laugh. “Boyfriends? Yeah, that would’ve required me to have a life. Like I said, my dad was super strict. I wasn’t allowed to date.”
Knox’s brows lift. “I know. But not even a secret boyfriend?”
I shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Not even one. In fact…” The memory clogs my throat. “…My first real boyfriend was my ex.”
The weight of that truth lingers between us, pressing into our beat of silence.
“Does that mean he was also your first?”
“Yes. And my first time wasn’t romantic either. In fact, it was in between classes. He left right after, like it was nothing.LikeIwas nothing. As if sex was a pit stop, not something that should mean anything. I remember lying there, pulling myself together, wondering why I felt emptier than I had before. Sad, embarrassed…like I’d handed over something fragile and watched it drop without a second thought.”
The words hang in the dark, and my throat feels raw, shame from years ago brushing against me like bullies taunting a kid for milk money.
Maybe that’s why being with Knox feels so different. So safe. He doesn’t just want me. He takes care of me. He stays. He holds me afterward, wipes me down with a warm towel, or pulls me into a shower as if closeness is the point, not the afterthought. With him, intimacy isn’t a pit stop. It’s where we begin and where we end.
Knox’s hand stills on my cheek, his thumb hovering just beneath my eye. “Baby…” His tone is threaded with something fierce. “He didn’t deserve you. I’m sorry you went through that.”
I swallow, unable to meet his gaze at first. “It’s stupid. I mean, it was forever ago yet hard to forget.” My throat tightens around the last word. “Being with you feelssodifferent.”
“Sweetheart…” Knox leans in, presses the gentlest kiss to my temple, then brushes a lone tear from my cheek with his thumb.
He tilts his head, listening, giving me space.
I let out a shaky laugh. “Paxton told me about this test once. Something from a chick flick. You ask a guy you’re newly dating what color your eyes are. If he doesn’t know, he doesn’t deserve you. I should’ve known then he wasn’t the right one for me.”
Knox’s brows draw together. “He got it wrong?”
“Yep. Basically said,‘I dunno, hazel?’”
For a long moment, Knox says nothing. He just studies me, his gaze steady and unflinching.
“Your eyes were the first thing I noticed when we collided that night on the beach. Sapphire-blue,” he murmurs. “In thesun, they shift to teal, like sea glass. At night, like now, they deepen to stormy blue. Heart-stopping. Impossible to look away from.”
He pauses, stroking my hair, lips curling into a gentle smile.
“You’ve got twelve freckles. Three on the left, four on the right, five across the bridge of your nose. I know because I count them every time you’re this close.”
His gaze holds mine, and I bite down on my lower lip, belly in freefall.
“You have a beauty mark on your inner thigh,” he adds. “Another on the small of your back. You go quiet when you’re processing something. And tuck your hair behind your ear whenever nerves swoop in.”
Heat stings the back of my eyes, and I have to blink fast to keep from crying.
Pressing my palm against his scruff-dotted jaw, I steady myself. “Well, for the record, you’re not the only one who’s paid attention.”
His brows lift, amused. “Yeah?”
“Gunmetal eyes,” I whisper, searching them in the dim light. “But when the sun hits, there’s this caramel ring smack in the center.” My fingertip traces the bridge of his nose. “And three freckles, lined up like Orion’s belt.”
