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“Because there’s no fucking way I’d ever let anyone steal my man,” he says with such conviction that my chest hurts.
Why can’t he think that way about me?
Why do we have to end the second we leave this cabin, when he’d fight to the death to keep an imaginary man by his side?
I sigh, sliding my hand over his bare chest.
“Just so you’re aware, we can never go to the beach together,” I say, changing the subject to something less depressing and resting my cheek against his heart.
Knox looks down at me, confused. “Why not?”
“What do you mean, why? Look at you! You look like a dark god of sex and the gym… and I look like fucking Casper.”
Knox bursts out laughing, and I glare up at him.
“Don’t laugh, I’m serious,” I scowl, poking him in the ribs.
“You look fine,” Knox chuckles, wrapping an arm around me. “Your skin is beautiful.”
“It’s transparent… Congratulations, Knox. You just dry-humped a ghost.”
“Hahaha! Who knew I had a kink for that?”
“A Casper kink.”
“More like a ‘whatever Cillian’ kink.”
“Oh, I totally get that one.”
“You do?” he asks, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah, it makes perfect sense. He’s awesome.”
“And so humble.”
“If I had a dollar for every time I humbled myself—” I stop mid-sentence, gasping dramatically. “Wait… I do.”
“Nice to see you’re remaining completely insufferable.”
“Nice to see you keep finding that charming.” I nuzzle my face into his chest, closing my eyes.
“Cil… can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“I was reading through your prep list for the gallery exhibition… You asked for five bags of Skittles to be sorted by color—”
I burst out laughing before he can even finish. “Yeah, I do that for every major event.”
“Why?”
“Most people think I’m just being a picky asshole,” I explain, tracing random patterns across his collarbone. “But at an auction where millions are on the line, you can’t afford a single mistake. There are a thousand details like the temperature stability, humidity controls, zero-UV lighting, documenting every micro-crack, past restoration, or surface scratch. If those are done wrong, it can cost us millions, or worse.”
“Worse than losing millions?”
“We could lose the piece itself to damage, or even theft.” I glance up at Knox and smile at how impressed he looks. “So if I show up to inspect the venue and see that the event coordinator couldn’t even manage a simple, stupid instruction like sorting candy… I know the security and art protection are going to be shit, and that I’ll have to double-check every single thing myself.”
“Damn…”
