A laugh rumbles in his chest, but I’m not finished. I let my thumb brush along the curve of his cheek. “And then there’s your dimples. The ones I see only when you’re Naked Face Guy.”
His grin widens, a low chuckle slipping out. “Naked Face Guy?”
“Yeah. Whenever you’re clean-shaven.”
“And when I’m not?”
“Scruff Face Guy.”
Knox tilts his head, inching closer. “And which face do you prefer?”
I graze my lips over his, teasing, breath catching between us. “Whichever one’s between my thighs.”
A groan escapes him, ragged and real, as he eases me onto my back, his weight settling carefully over mine.
His hand fists the sheets beside my head, every muscle taut like he’s holding himself back.
“Fuck, Cami.” His timbre is rough, hungry. “You’re gonna be the death of me. And if it weren’t for your doctor telling you to pace yourself”—he exhales, a stifled laugh breaking through—“we wouldn’t even make it through this conversation.”
Our gazes remain locked, mouths so close that each breath skims his lips, both of us trembling with everything we’re holding back.
And as waves crash outside, the truth swells inside me, huge and unmoored, like a parade float drifting off course.
Damn. I’m in way too deep.
August
CHAPTER 24
Knox
Stripe purrs like a vintage engine in the crook of my elbow while Cami coos at Shadow from across the exam room. Wanda, former attic outlaw turned cuddle queen, has claimed the exam room counter as her perch, tail flicking with righteous superiority.
It’s been two weeks since I watched Cami collapse and vowed I’d never take a quiet moment with her for granted again. Since then, we’ve been learning and adjusting to her new normal: electrolyte drinks at breakfast, water bottles in every room, no caffeine or alcohol, and the beep of her alarm reminding her to eat. And once her doctor confirmed intimacy wouldn’t trigger symptoms, we found our rhythm again. Slow at first. Then not slow at all.
Not going to lie: worry hums under my skin, a constant second layer always bracing for a shift behind her easyI’m fine.
“You’d think they’d never seen a cat and kittens before,” Cami says, grinning at the two techs peeking through the glass.
“I overheard Dex say they’re interns.” I stroke between Stripe’s ears. “One of them jumped when Wanda sneezed. Dex told him not to worry, ‘the whisperer’s’ got it handled.”
Cami giggles, then throws me a look. “You planning on addingCat Whispererto your business cards?”
“Only if you addBubbleGirlto yours.”
“Already submitted an application for a legal name change.”
“Bubble Girl, PhD?” I chuckle. “Has a pretty nice ring to it.”
Before she can fire back, the door swings open with a squeak, and Dex steps in, holding a folded fleece blanket and a bin of toys like he’s delivering a care package for summer camp.
“Morning, dynamic duo,” he says, reading the room with cautious curiosity. “Are the kiddos ready for their final bonding session?”
Cami rises to her feet, smoothing the front of her sundress. “Yep. And Wanda’s been shockingly cooperative. Very minimal side-eye.”
“We’re in a golden window,” Dex says as he lays the blanket down in the corner. “She’s fed and only mildly offended that she’s not the center of attention anymore. Let’s get the kiddos on the floor and see how she handles it.”
Cami crouches again to lift Shadow while I bring Stripe over, placing him gently in the middle of the blanket.
