29. Knox

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Knox

Tonight’s the night I dread above all else.

As Elton sleeps beside me, hungover as hell from our orgasm marathon, I have to find a way to leave without looking too suspicious. Not that it would be weird. I don’t live in his penthouse… Even though we haven’t spent a night apart in the last few days. It seems that taking him to see the flamingos has made him clingy as hell. But apparently, fucking him in a public restroom hasn’t made me entirely disgusted by the idea of spending more time with him either.

Regardless, he’ll wake up and if I don’t tell him I’m going, he’ll wonder where I am, and he’ll get all pouty. I’ll get irritated, he’ll get even more pouty, and it’ll become a whole big thing.

Sunday nights can go fuck themselves.

“Sweetheart,” I say, leaning over him as I brush my hand across his forehead. “I’m going now.”

He stirs, aaaaaand there’s that pout. “What? Why? We’re both off tonight.”

“I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“Plans.”

“With?”

“Um…” Fuck, that’s right. I don’t have friends. So, I blurt out the only thing I can. The truth. “My family.”

He sits up quickly, smacking my nose in the process, and he’s completely awake as he blinks repeatedly. “Your family?”

I raise an eyebrow at his obvious shock. “Why are you acting so weird about it?”

He looks at me like I’m an idiot and snorts. “Because you literally never talk about your family. Actually, you have never talked about them. I thought you came from the pod people.”

“Makes sense with a magic asshole,” I joke, trying to change the subject.

“Knox, seriously. You’re going to dinner with your family?”

I should have just left. But now that I haven’t, and insisted on waking him up first, I sigh. There’s no way I’m getting out of this conversation. “Every Sunday night.”

“So that’s why we don’t hang out on Sundays,” he says, more to himself than to me. “Why have you never brought it up?”

“Didn’t think it was important.” I bristle at the thought of bringing my family into what’s actually become a pleasant friendship.

He nods, not really believing me, but not arguing for once. “Okay. Well, have fun!”

As he leans in to kiss me, an idea strikes me. It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought, but I think it, nonetheless. It’s damn persistent, to a point where I can’t keep it in. “What if you came with me tonight?”

It’s a ridiculous idea. The worst, actually. Elton should be nowhere near my family. Forget the fact that we’re not dating and that seems very relationship-y, but my parents are evil, and my brothers are beyond irritating. Elton did nothing to deserve a night with them?—

“Fuck yes!” Elton shouts, already bolting out of bed and to his closet. “Oh my God! What do I wear? Is this a formal thing, or will jeans and a T-shirt do?”

I regret my decision immediately. “Actually?—”

“This is so exciting!” he cheers, opting for a formal button-down shirt and a pair of dark jeans. “I get to see the people you grew up with! Tell me, do they have the craziest stories of you as a kid? Did you ever do something weird like stuff a raisin up your nose, because I totally did, and they couldn’t find it for hours.”

I’m struck by the fact that it’s been two seconds and now he’s pressed and perfect and ready to go. I think about telling him that I take it back, that he’s definitely not invited, but I can’t bring myself to. He looks so damn happy, so excited, and it makes my stomach bubble pleasantly, filling my heart with some type of confusing warmth.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asks, locking his elbow around mine. “Let’s go! We don’t want to be late!”

As he drags me out of his room and down the stairs, I think of what an enormous mistake I’ve made. If only life had a do-over button.

Elton’s bouncing on his heels with giddiness as we stand in front of my parents’ door. He’s holding my hand tightly, his face flushed pink with excitement, but he needs to calm the fuck down before he gives me a heart attack.

“There’s something you need to know,” I blurt out. He thinks he’s going to meet a lovely family, maybe one like his, and I realize in utter horror that my lack of communication skills has not prepared him for what’s about to happen.

Oblivious, he looks at me, brow wrinkled. “What?”

“My parents?—”

“Lennox, you’re late again— Who’s this?”

My mother answers the door, her face shifting from annoyed to cheerful in the blink of an eye. Sure, she can be a royal witch to me, but when there’s company, that’s a different story.

Elton gasps, probably getting whiplash by how fast he turns to look at me. “Lennox?”

“It’s Knox,” I say through gritted teeth as I glare at my mother. “Can we come in or what?”

“I didn’t know you were bringing company,” she says, looking reluctant to let us in as she scrutinizes Elton. “You’ll have to forgive us…”

“Elton Hill.” He sticks out his hand politely. “You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Sanders.”

“Elton Hill ,” my mother repeats, eyes growing wide like saucers. The Hills are pretty well known around her social circle, mostly because Elton’s mom donates to every charity in existence—and means it—while his dad runs a billion-dollar pharmaceutical company. They’re royalty to these elitist fucks. So, of course, my mother jumps to the side like a startled deer and ushers us in. “Oh, well, if Lennox had told me you were coming, I would have held off on pre-dinner drinks.”

Elton smiles warmly and shakes his head. “No need, Mrs. Sanders. Truthfully, I’m starving, and it smells divine in here.”

I know Elton’s a friendly guy, but he’s really laying it on thick. Not just that, but he’s speaking like one of them, like a lizard person has taken over him and is wearing a very clever and convincing Elton suit. I give him a look, to which he shrugs, following my mother down the hall to the dining room.

“ Divine ?” I tease and elbow his stomach.

“Shut up,” he mutters, smiling to cover up his remark when my mother looks at us over her shoulder. When she turns again, he narrows his eyes. “I’m trying to make a good first impression.”

While that’s admirable, it’s not as if my parents aren’t going to be nice to his face and then talk shit about him the second he’s gone. But it’s cute that he’s trying.

We enter the dining room, where my father and brothers are waiting, and it looks as picture perfect as it can be. A roast in the center of the table, salads on every plate, a loving family ready to enjoy a meal together.

But it’s all one big lie.

Bertram is the first to speak, curling his lips in a snarl as he looks at us. “Finally. What took you so long?”

“Look, Lennox brought a stray,” Barnaby jokes, elbowing his twin as if he’s the most hilarious thing ever.

“Boys,” my mother says, the fakest smile on her lips, her eyes like daggers aimed at the twins. “This is Elton Hill .”

The twins blanch, Archibald raises an eyebrow in interest, and my father actually fucking stands.

“Elton Hill,” my father booms, so uncharacteristically charming as he shakes Elton’s hand. “Good to meet you, son. We’ve heard so much about you.”

He shakes my father’s hand politely, but throws me a suspicious look. He knows me well enough by now to know that there’s no way in hell I’ve told my parents anything about him, healthy relationship or not.

“The pleasure is mine, sir,” he says, then takes the open seat at the end by my mother. “You must be Knox’s siblings.”

“Introduce yourself, boys,” my father basically snaps, taking a seat.

“I’m Bertram and that’s Barnaby,” Bertram says as he reaches a hand over the table. “Elton, wow, so great to meet you.”

“You too,” Elton says, smiling as he then moves to shake Archibald’s hand.

“Archibald,” he introduces, leaning back on the seat once he’s done. “How did you meet Lennox?”

To this, Elton blushes. “I actually know him from high school, but we just recently reconnected.”

“That’s…surprising,” my mother says, chuckling awkwardly. “Lennox doesn’t seem…”

When she trails off, something in Elton hardens. As politely as possible, he raises an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem what, Mrs. Sanders?”

“You know I’m right fucking here,” I bark out, stabbing my fork into a piece of lettuce on my plate. “Can we just eat?”

Elton shakes off whatever came over him and digs into his salad, but my family isn’t done with him. My father is the one who speaks next. “So, Elton, you attend the University of Miami, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“See, Lennox…” My father gestures at Elton, as if it’s plain as day. “A college degree is important. You’re wasting such precious talents doing…”

“Whatever it is he’s doing,” Barnaby mumbles under his breath.

Bertram snickers. “Probably selling his underwear online.”

“Eat your salad, boys,” my mother echoes, trying to cover up what the twins just said, but Elton doesn’t miss it.

“What did you say?” he asks, somehow still polite as he sneers. “Why would you say something so rude?”

“Oh, boys. You know how men are, Elton.” My father laughs forcefully. “They’re just teasing Lennox. He’s just too sensitive to take a joke.”

Elton turns his deadly glare to my father. “It wasn’t funny.”

“It’s okay,” I say quickly, resting my hand on Elton’s thigh. “It’s fine.”

Elton sighs, his award-winning smile once again plastered on his face as he calms down. Dinner continues, with my family hounding Elton about everything—his hobbies, his job, his aspirations—and he answers it all with the utmost grace and poise. Then my mother goes on and on about God knows what, but Elton listens intently to every word that comes out of her mouth.

“So, Archibald, your mother says you’re getting married,” Elton asks my oldest sibling. “That’s exciting. When’s the date?”

Archibald opens his mouth to speak, but my mother cuts him off. “A year from now. It’s all very glamorous, Elton. We’ll have to make sure to send you an invitation.”

Elton nods. “I’d like that.” He turns back to Archibald, almost eager to get to know him, and I’ll admit, he is the least douchey of all my family. “How did you and…”

“Gabriela,” he says matter-of-factly.

“How did you and Gabriela meet?”

“We’re childhood sweethearts.” Archibald sighs, not in impatience, and I cock my head at his response. I don’t spend time with any of my brothers, but Archibald in particular has always been a mystery to me.

Elton must sense the tension in the air as Archibald and my father share a meaningful look, so he clears his throat and changes the subject. “So, Barnaby. Tell me about yourself.”

Oh, fuck, he’s not going to like that can of worms.

Barnaby and Bertram, now that they know who Elton is, don’t go full-on psycho. They’re actually fairly normal, and it’s weird to see them being so nice . Eventually, the conversation shifts to meaningless superficial things, and it’s all very diplomatic.

It isn’t until my father speaks once again that the mood shifts. “You seem like you’ll be a good influence on Lennox.”

Elton quirks an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“My husband just means that Lennox is…lost,” my mother explains, like it’s obvious. “I mean, a man of your caliber, Elton, you can help him. There’s not much we can do about the tattoos?—”

“I love his tattoos,” Elton interjects defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with Knox .”

“Perhaps the conversation is getting a bit out of hand,” Archibald says, refilling his wine glass with an air of casual warning. “Lennox has made his decisions in life.”

“Wrong isn’t the right word,” my father cuts in, continuing, and completely ignoring Archibald’s attempt at keeping the peace. “It’s just that, I mean, you see our family. You’re in our social circle, son. Lennox doesn’t exactly fit in.”

I don’t know what part of that makes Elton snap, but he does. He stands, nearly knocking the table over as his silverware clatters on his plate. “First, I’m not your son . Second, I don’t see how Knox doesn’t fit in. You think I can’t see past the bullshit?”

My mother gasps, a hand over her heart as she chuckles awkwardly. “My dear, I don’t know what you’re talking about?—”

“You’re right about something, Mr. Sanders. I am a part of this circle, so I know condescending, conceited, and spoiled elitist assholes when I see them.” He turns to the twins. “You two. You’re just fucking creepy, and you”—he stops when he looks at Archibald and flushes—“you’ve actually been pleasant so this isn’t addressed to you.”

My heart hammers in my chest as I watch Elton stand up for me. It’s completely unnecessary. This is just the way my parents are. Of course they intend to hurt me, but I’m used to it. “Elton?—”

“We’re leaving, Knox,” he barks, yanking me out of my seat. “Goodnight, Sanders family. I hope you have a nice rest of your dinner, but if you can’t appreciate your son, then we have no place being here.”

And with that, he marches us out of the dining room, through the house, and to the front door. I’m silent the entire time, beyond myself with emotions I can’t place, but Elton has way too much to say.

“I can’t believe them!” he yells, snatching his keys out of his pocket as he angrily unlocks his car. “How could you just sit there and take that, Knox? The way they talked around you, all those subtle sneers! They acted as if they weren’t being completely obvious!”

But they weren’t. I know my family, and they’re masters at having people see what they want, somehow Elton cut through their bullshit to see who they really are.

“And the twins! They were weird as hell! Did you notice that they chew in sync?” He paces, not making a move to get in his car. “I don’t want you seeing them again, Knox! You don’t deserve to be treated like that! You deserve—fuck—you deserve the goddamn world and they’re barely giving you any scraps?—”

I cut him off with a kiss because I don’t think words can convey how I’m feeling. I’m overwhelmed by…gratitude. So much gratitude, it pours out of me in waves as I plant Elton against his car and try to show him what that meant to me.

Nobody has ever stood up for me. Nobody has ever cared. Nobody has ever thought I was worth it.

He does.

“Let’s go back to your place, sweetheart,” I say, smiling despite the circumstance.

He frowns. “You’re not mad?”

“So fucking turned on, it’s ridiculous.”

“Knox.” He stops me as I try to get in the car. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

I walk toward him again and place my forehead against his. Kissing him gently, I cup his face in my hands and smile. “I do.”

“Do you want to get food, then? You must be hungry.”

I laugh, kissing him again and again because I can’t help myself. “All I want is to be with you. We’ll do whatever you want, sweetheart. I just… I want to be with you tonight.”

Finally, he smiles, a relieved chuckle leaving him as he kisses me back. “Pizza and a scary movie?”

“Definitely,” I say, painfully tearing myself away.

We don’t say anything else as we get into the car and head to my favorite pizza place—which he knows by heart—and I can’t seem to think about anything other than how much I fucking like Elton.

I like Elton Hill.

All those times he was annoying still count, and he can be a persistent little shit who comes on too strong, but it’s endearing. I think I’ve felt this way for a while, but I was just too stubborn to admit it. Elton manages to cast everyone under his spell, and I never thought that would work on me, but apparently it has.

But, for once, I don’t want to run away from it.

When we finally make it back to his place, he seems nervous. Instead of grabbing us plates and a beer, he sets the pizza down and spins on his heels. I go to question what he’s doing, but I’m caught off-guard when he wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me close. His eyes are wide with something akin to panic—definitely nervous—and it makes me pause.

“Elton, sweetheart?—”

“Knox,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning my lips. “Do you think you could… I want to do it.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “It?”

“I want you to fuck me,” he clarifies, a chuckle escaping him as he scratches the back of his flushed neck. “I know tonight has been weird, and we’re just supposed to chill, but I’ve been thinking about it and?—”

I cut him off with a bruising kiss, capturing his face in my hands as I show him just how much I want that too. Pulling back, I drop my forehead against his. I wet my lips, trying to search his eyes for any shadow of a doubt. “Are you sure?”

He nods, his breaths coming out in little shudders, his fingers digging into my shoulders. “You’ll take care of me, right, Knox?”

The question stings, but not in that sort of brutally terrible way. It reaches the deepest parts of me I don’t like to face, the parts that challenge my worth, that remind me that I’m nothing to everyone. They’re the parts of me that I like to keep in the forefront in fear that if I let them fall, I’ll become tricked into believing that people matter enough to give a damn.

But fuck, I give a damn.

Because while most people suck, Elton doesn’t.

“Yes,” I mumble, meaning that word like I never have before. “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll make it special.”

He snorts, batting my shoulder playfully as his cheeks turn pink. “You once said I wasn’t special.”

“Well, I can change my fucking mind, can’t I?” I bark, trying to hide just how fucking open and raw I feel in this moment.

He laughs as if he can see right through me. “Thank you. So…my room?”

I nod, lacing our fingers together as I lead him up the stairs to his bedroom.

With a feeling that this is about to change everything.