19. Elton

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Elton

I’m no stranger to being out on the water.

Being raised amongst Miami’s elite, I’m very familiar with all shades of luxury, including different types of boats. While my parents are loaded, they always preferred something smaller, less flashy, but not everyone in the upper circle follows that same mindset.

As I stand at the dock in front of a mega yacht, I think to myself that it’s a bit much, isn’t it? No one needs something this big. It’s a boat with two stories, for fuck’s sake, but I whistle anyway, because I can’t deny that it’s kinda sexy. I do, however, double check my phone to make sure Knox sent me the right boat slip before I board.

I should feel a bit underdressed in my pink flamingo trunks, classic polo, and boat shoes, but when I see some influencer girls on the second-story balcony in nothing but skimpy bikinis and strappy high heels, I realize it won’t matter as long as I show everyone the handle of top-shelf apple whiskey I brought.

I go to the little ramp and board, smiling pleasantly at everyone I pass as I try to find a familiar face. There must be dozens of people here. Some are already three drinks gone at nine in the morning, while others are munching on the gourmet spread out on the upper deck. Weaving my way through everybody, I can’t stop the excited jump of my heart when I spot Knox.

He’s sitting on a couch out on the upper deck, wearing nothing but tight black swim trunks. His incredibly sexy tattoos are on display, and I’m still shocked that I’m so into someone who’s covered with more ink than bare skin. Somehow, the contrast of his tattooed and pierced body sitting in a luxury yacht does it for me, but what keeps my dick from taking too much interest is the fact that there are both men and women hanging on him, fawning over the body I’ve touched and licked and sucked.

Ew. My stomach does not like that.

Still, I keep a smile plastered on my face as I approach him. “Knox, man!”

When he sees me, I tell myself that I’m completely making up the way his dark eyes brighten. Although, it’s impossible to deny that the people around him become irrelevant as he stands, interrupting some blonde’s conversation mid-sentence, to walk over to me.

“Elton,” he says, standing awkwardly in front of me with his hands in his trunks. He’s already a bit sun-kissed, the skin at the tip of his nose pink beside his piercing, and I have to stop myself from kissing it. “Thanks for coming.”

Fuck, those words still sound so weird coming from him.

Ever since our bro heart-to-heart, Knox has really been trying his hardest to not be a complete asshole twenty-four-seven. And after Friendsgiving, he’s been even better. It’s not like a flip has been switched or anything—he’s still a dick most of the time—but he’s started to treat me with the respect I deserve. We’ve hung out every morning this week and every night after work. We’ve fucked around, of course, but we’ve also watched a ton of movies and just talked. Even if he’s playing nice, it’s made the sex a million times hotter, in my humble opinion.

“Knox,” the woman he was talking to says, wiggling her flute in the air. “Get me a drink and come back?” She flicks her gaze to me and narrows her eyes harshly. “We were in the middle of a conversation.”

I snort. With the way she’s eyeing Knox, she’s definitely feeling him, but she’s too late to that particular party. Either way, I’m not a dick, so I don’t comment on the fact that I had his dick in my mouth approximately eight hours ago. “What are you having? I’ll refill it for you.”

Knox chuckles under his breath as the woman’s jaw drops. “Um…champagne with just a little cranberry juice, please.”

“No problem,” I say, taking her glass from her and turning to Knox. “Lead the way to the bar?”

I throw the woman one last kind smile as Knox takes my free hand and guides me back down the stairs. My eyes widen at the contact, and I can’t say I’m not shocked. The hand holding. It’s so… coupley .

But, fuck me, I like it.

When we get downstairs, there’s a bar set up on the lower deck, and I set my whiskey down before refilling the woman’s drink. “When are we going underway?” I ask him.

Pulling out his phone, he shoots off a quick text. “Just let the captain know. I was?—”

He cuts himself off, and I know why. My smile is wide as I punch his shoulder teasingly. “Were you waiting for me, grumpy bear?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he spits, rolling his eyes when I just laugh. A guy passes us, and Knox stops him, taking the champagne from me and handing it to him. “This is for the hot blonde upstairs in the green bikini.” The guy nods and takes the drink, and I raise an eyebrow at Knox, to which he simply shrugs. “What? You saved me from having to hear another boring story about her trip to Prague.”

“Oh, that sounds fascinating! I’ve always wanted to go there! Maybe I can ask her?—”

“Nope,” he says, stopping me mid-sentence. “Trust me. I doubt your interest in Prague has to do with her stepfather’s third home that he bought his wife after she caught him cheating.”

“Damn, she was just telling you her life story, wasn’t she?” I joke. My eyes catch a green bottle, and I gasp. “You have Apple Schnapps? Let’s make Appletinis.”

He wrinkles his nose as I go to the other side of the bar. “The fuck is that?”

“Only the most glorious drink in all of existence,” I tell him, punching my fist in the air when I see he also has the right type of vodka. “Fuck yeah, man. Where’s Skylar at? He always makes the best ones.”

He tenses, fucking with the label of the whiskey I brought. “He’s not here.”

“You said the crew was coming,” I mumble, distracted as I try to portion the alcohol correctly into the shaker.

“Yeah, well, they didn’t show up.”

He says it so dismissively, but I like to think I’ve gotten to know Knox fairly well. He sounds pissed, and when he’s angry for no reason, it typically means he’s hurt. He had the same expression at the music festival when he found out Cassius invited everyone but him. I can also admit that I maybe watched him during Friendsgiving as he interacted with the crew. To no one’s surprise, they didn’t accept him immediately, and I think that really rattled him. He didn’t say anything about it to me, but he was so close to storming off after talking to them, and I caught the way he tensed mid-sentence when Skylar said something to him.

I tread carefully, though, because Knox can get snippy easily, and I don’t want to sour his mood. “Oh, that sucks. Did they say yes when you invited them?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“When you asked them to come, did they say they would?” I repeat plainly, wondering why he’s confused. “What did they say?”

He shrugs. “I just mentioned it to them.”

My jaw drops as I stop mid-shake. “You didn’t invite them.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, dumbass. You actually had to ask them to come if you wanted them here.”

“It’s not like they would have come anyways.”

“Because you didn’t invite them!”

“Can you just drop it, Elton?” Crossing his tattooed arms across his chest, he actively avoids eye contact with me as he stews. “I…” he trails off, biting down on his lip ring as he looks out at the passing water. “I know they don’t like me, okay? I’m fine with it. I only invited them?—”

“You didn’t invite them.”

“—so you could have someone to talk to.” His words almost tumble out of his mouth in a rush.

Aw, well, that’s cute that he thought of me. I still think he definitely did not invite them, but I don’t point that out again. Instead, I pour our drinks into two little martini glasses as my stomach fills with unnecessary butterflies. “Here. Try it.”

“It looks gross,” he mumbles, wrinkling his nose at the green color. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

I chuckle at that. “After the Blue Nipples and the Flip Fucks? I think anything is safe. Cheers, man.”

We clink glasses, and I pat myself on the back for a drink well made. As I swirl my Appletini, I try to bite my tongue. I know Knox said to drop it, but I can’t. “You and my brother are friends, though, right? Did you invite him?”

He chokes on his Appletini, green liquid sputtering out of his mouth and onto his chest. “Um, I barely know the guy. We’ve only hung out once or twice.”

I nod. Knox is only two years younger than me, but he’s closer to Everest’s age than mine. I feel like they’d make good friends. Ev is patient enough to put up with his personality, for sure. I also could have sworn I’ve seen them hanging out at the club, but what do I know? “Well, you should hit him up.”

“Okay,” he mutters, gray eyes darting to the ground as he shuffles on his feet. “Can we change the conversation? You’re making it sound like I don’t have any friends.”

Raising my hands in surrender, I round the bar to his side. “Okay, no problem. Want to introduce me to some people, then?”

He nods. “Yeah, there’s…”

“Knox?” I quirk an eyebrow when he looks vaguely into the crowd. “I need some names if I’m going to make some new friends.” When he closes his mouth and drops his head, I realize it. “Oh shit. You don’t know anybody here, do you?”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not technically .”

“You’re throwing this party!”

“So?”

“Give me one name,” I say. “Just one. Who was the blonde girl you were talking to?”

“Thalia?” It’s definitely a question, and when I give him a look, he scoffs. “Fine. They aren’t friends. They’re customers.”

“Customers… Oh .” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Is this a drug party?”

It takes him a beat, but he laughs. “Jesus, what happened to you? You used to be cool.”

“I am cool,” I argue with a pout. “I just didn’t realize this was a work party. I would have worn something more appropriate.”

He gives me a deadpan look. “What? Like a black turtleneck and a ski mask?” Dropping his voice to a low whisper, he leans toward me as his lips ghost the shell of my ear. “Did I tell you how good you look today, by the way? You’re so handsome, sweetheart. This look is really doing it for me.”

I flush at his words, my cheeks growing pink, and my dick plumping up. “Don’t give me a boner in my flamingo trunks.”

He chuckles darkly, moving so that I’m trapped against the bar with his arms bracketing either side of me. Pressing his entire length against me, he brushes his lips against the corner of my mouth, giving me teasing little kisses. “Is my sweet slut shy? You don’t want all these people to know how much you like it when I have my tongue up your?—”

“Knox,” I whine, chasing his lips, frowning when he just snickers. “Unless you’re going to do that thing with your tongue, stop. You’re giving me blue balls, man.”

He clicks his tongue. “Fine.” Planting a sloppy wet kiss on my cheek, he steps back and reaches for my hand. “Let’s go back to Thalia and see how many times her stepdad railed his tennis pro to get her mother a new Porsche.”

“You’re mean,” I say as I dare myself to lace my fingers with his. He did it earlier so maybe…

“Story of my life, sweetheart.” He just shrugs and everything in me crumbles into gooey nothingness.

We make our way back to Thalia and find out that the answer is approximately five times. I realize as we’re listening to her talk about her mother’s clever financial blackmailing that I never had a reason to worry about her in the first place. None of these people who hang off Knox’s every word actually know him. They don’t care about him and, sadly, I think Knox knows this too. They laugh when he doesn’t make a joke, get far too touchy, but don’t make an effort to learn anything about him. They’re all here for what he can give them—drugs—and once they give him money and get what they want, they disappear.

It goes on and on like this for hours. Does Knox realize that every transactional friendship he makes seems to chip away at him more and more? Once everyone gets what they want, they leave, until it’s only the two of us watching the sunset off the coast of Miami.

The party is still going strong, everyone drunk and high off their asses now, but Knox and I stay seated on the couch. As I admire the oceanic view in front of me, I question if it’s a conscious decision on Knox’s part to throw his arm around my shoulders and drag me against his bare chest.

“Um, thanks for coming today, sweetheart,” he mumbles against the top of my head, one of his fingers playing with mine on his lap. “I had a good time.”

I want to laugh at how awkward and robotic he sounds, but I don’t. Instead, I kiss his chest and snuggle against him. “You're welcome. Next time, we’ll make sure everyone can make it.”

Because Knox Sanders, while a prickly, moody bastard, isn’t the worst once you get to know him.