“Nothing I do is luck, Em. I make it a point to know all your favorites.”
Reaching for the syrup, I pour a little on the waffle, cut off a piece, and take a bite.
As I eat, I realize this is the first time in my life that anyone has done such a kind gesture just for me.
The thought is enough to have emotion bubbling in my chest, constricting it as a lump forms in my throat. To battle the tears threatening, I focus on the plate, on chewing, on anything but Knox sitting on my bed.
He doesn’t say a word, and once again, the silence gets too heavy, pressing on my chest, making my ears ring until I can’t take it anymore.
I could’ve said anything in that moment. Anything at all. But rather than make a comment about the weather or the breakfast, I reach for my juice and blurt out the one thing I can’t stop thinking about.
“Why did you leave me last night? Why were you so mean?”
Knox doesn’t answer immediately and I realize it’s because he’s waiting for me to look at him. When I do, I can see the wild excitement in his glittering green eyes. There’s passion and promise and…
The man has really nice eyes.
“Because I want you, Em.”
Want,I notice. Not past tense, as though last night wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing.
“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” I mutter, peering down at my plate. I manage to calm my rioting heart.
“Nonetheless, it’s true,” he says softly.
I peer up again. “Why?”
“Why do I want you?”
I nod.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I can think of a number of reasons,” I tell him, realizing I want him to kiss me, to touch me again, but I can’t very well ask him to.
“Give me three,” he says with a smirk.
Three reasons why he shouldn’t want me? Too easy.
“For starters, I’m your sister.”
“By marriage only,” he answers easily. “So it doesn’t count. Next.”
I hold his gaze and speak the truth as I know it. “Because you can have any woman you want.”
That seems to please him because his grin widens. “Can I?”
I shrug, take another sip of juice. “I mean, you’re handsome, smart, rich. I’m sure there’s a long line of women waiting for you to kiss them.”
“There’s only one woman I want, Em.”
“Me,” I state, wanting confirmation that I’m not imagining this.
“You,” he agrees.
“I’m eleven years younger than you are,” I say, giving him my third and final reason. “I doubt we have anything in common.”
“Age difference isn’t an issue for me. As for having nothing in common … I’m not sure that’s true.”
