5. Knox

Chapter Five

KNOX

Julian Hollis of Nice, former Hooker for Toulouse, dies at the age of 32, losing his weeks long battle after a near fatal crash claimed the life of his wife, Bianca, 30, and seriously injured their 6yo daughter, Hazel. Years leading up to his death were happy, reports say, despite the life changing spinal injury Hollis sustained during a championship match that left the London native paralyzed and wheelchair bound...

I close out of the browser on my phone, toss it on the bed, and scrub my hands over my face.

Fuck .

I lasted just over a week.

Just over a week before I looked up Hazel’s dad and his story.

He was an all-star player, young with lots of potential, but he played hard in the sport’s most dangerous position and that’s how he wound up paralyzed. Then, a few short years later, the entire family ends up in an accident that makes my sweet girl an orphan and changes her life completely.

I couldn’t find anything about what happened to Hazel specifically and regardless of my curiosity that led to the Google search of all Google searches, I’m not going to ask.

If Hazel decides to share, fine, but I’m not going to pry.

Plus, there wasn’t shit to find, anyway.

And yeah, I’ve been rationalizing it by assuming my doctor Googled the hell out of me because she definitely watched hours of my fights.

And that shit impressed the shirt right off my fucking back.

She’s still a little sketchy on the names of moves and origins, but Hazel learned quite a bit about MMA in order to help me and I can’t say it doesn’t do weird shit to my insides.

And my dick.

My dick that does all kinds of weird shit around Hazel.

Like, I dunno, turn to stone almost every time she touches me?

Considering that’s all she does while I’m in her clinic, it’s becoming a big problem.

I’ve also found myself blurring the line between Hazel and Sunny. I’ve started to see them as the same person in a lot of ways because of how they make me feel even though Sunny and I have barely talked this past week. And that’s not helping either because while I’ve started to have confusing feelings about both of them, those feelings are definitely strong and spark the same flame inside my chest.

Out of left field? Sure, but I have a few good reasons for it.

Both women are quirky and hilarious without even trying.

Hazel has just as many mishaps as Sunny, and some of them are eerily similar.

For example, my online friend is always telling me about her love to indulge in everything sweet, but she somehow always manages to end up wearing part of her food for a good portion of the day without realizing it until someone points it out. Frosting on her nose, glaze on her chin—yes, that led to dirty thoughts—powdered sugar on her shirt, things like that. I’ve had six sessions with Hazel at this point and every time she’s come out into the waiting room to get me, she’s been wearing parts of her less than nutritious breakfast.

Both women have rescue pets.

The third time I was at the clinic, I heard several loud thuds coming from what I now know is Hazel’s attached apartment and when I went into total defensive mode ready to crush anyone who threatened my sweet girl by trying to break in, she told me to chill out and said it was just Boris.

Well, that didn’t really help me at all because I went from defensive protector to jealous asshole in about two seconds and almost ripped the padding off the rolling table I was perched on. To appease me, Hazel opened her apartment and let Boris into the clinic, the Russian blue strutting through the door like he owned the place while a huge ball of white fluff followed right on his heels.

The Persian long hair’s name? Princess Glitter Butt . Both cats were all over me like we’ve been friends for years, and I swear it was their way of telling me to chill out just like their mama did.

I can’t say for sure that Sunny’s fur babies are cats with strange names, but they are mischievous and full of personality, so it’s hard not to compare them.

Both women refer to their grandma as Nona .

It’s how I met Sunny, a support group online that we were both a part of. I joined because of my dad and the huge world of shit that followed, and she did because she lost her nona. That term of endearment isn’t quite common enough for me to have met two separate women who use it.

Finally, as I said before, I’ve developed pretty strong feelings for both of them.

My feelings for Sunny have been brewing under the surface for a few years now but went ignored until Hazel came along and instead of feeling like I was betraying what we had by being wildly attracted to someone else, things just kind of clicked into place, they just felt... right .

Her personality is almost identical to Hazel’s, though it is kind of hard to tell at times because she doesn’t share the same things Sunny does.

Surface stuff. Favorites. Nothing too deep.

Hazel, on the other hand, has shared quite a bit of that, the deeper stuff, the things that make her tick, that drive her to be the person she is. She gives me the specifics and details I want to learn more than anything.

Honestly, the voids in the conversations that Sunny and I share are easily filled by the things Hazel tells me and vice versa. And while it’s been a great way to fantasize about the woman of my dreams because Hazel is hotter than sin, it’s also made my sessions with her that much harder.

Pun absolutely intended.

My dick aside, it’s been on the tip of my tongue to ask if they are one in the same, if Hazel is my sunshine, but I get the feeling she’s trying to keep things as professional as she can with me, and I’m sure that’s due to the fact that I was a total cocksucker when we first met.

Can’t say that I blame her, but it makes me want her more.

Between that and my own baggage I refuse to unpack, it’s dangerous for me to keep seeing her.

Hazel could very easily be the woman to claim my heart without breaking it, but I’m just too scared to try.

Yep.

Me . Knox TKO Riley , two-time heavyweight champ, is scared to give his heart away because he’s been burned before.

And that’s exactly why I’ve finally convinced myself to end my therapy at Happy Body, Happy Soul, no matter how much good it’s done me. Which is a fuckton.

Unfortunately, the idea of not seeing Hazel anymore makes my chest ache right along with my shoulder, but I’m going to have to live with that pain because I’m too much of a chickenshit to do otherwise.