7. Knox

CHAPTER SEVEN

Knox

I should have known he’d be like everyone else.

Just like I’ve become accustomed to these days, I’m stewing. I’m supposed to be taking an inventory of my product—a myriad of pills and powder—but I’m too busy being pissy about what happened with Elton last night. It shouldn’t surprise me, but I guess I was an idiot for thinking a nice guy like him would actually be nice .

Elton seemed to enjoy everything we did. Sure, we had a few shots, but we weren’t as trashed as the first time we hooked up. I vividly recall the way he squirmed in my lap, all those pretty sounds he let out, and the way he responded to my rough treatment and dirty words. He came so hard he nearly blacked out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he trembled in my arms, but then reality came crashing down around him. He must have realized—just like everyone else—that I’m not worth the time. I’m not worth the effort. I’m good for a fuck or a bump and that’s about it.

I realize I’m doing a shit job and stuff all my product back in my duffel, throwing it on the seat beside me as I watch the bartenders get ready for their shift. I shake my head, miscounting yet again, and forcing myself to start over. Damn jackass is invading my mind and making me fucking crazy. The weirdest part? I don’t even like him.

But then why did his rejection hurt so much?

“Hey, Knox?”

Speak of the devil.

I don’t look at Elton as he stands in front of me. It doesn’t take a genius to sense the tension in the air. I’m sure he’s here out of some misguided need to tell me what happened last night is never happening again. Maybe he’ll play that I-swear-I’m-straight card, like he doesn’t understand that sexuality can be fluid. Still, I can’t help but once again give in and engage. “What?”

“Can you look at me, please?” he asks, so fucking brazen, with so little regard for anyone but himself.

I can’t stop myself from turning to glance up at him. What first catches my eye are the ridiculous pink khaki shorts he’s wearing, way too bright, with little flamingos on them. He has his usual cheerful smile in place, exuding that same energy he always does, that’s both loud and paralyzing. I’m sure it works on other people, drags them into his web, but it’s not working on me. I can see through all that bullshit to what he truly is underneath.

Just a piece of shit like everyone else.

“So, what are you doing?” he asks when I don’t say anything. When silence continues to greet him, the bastard takes a seat next to me, either completely oblivious or just plain arrogant.

“Working.”

“On what?”

“Vendor relations.”

He nods, worrying the inside of his cheek. “ Okaaaay. Um, look, I just wanted to apologize for last night.”

I pause at that, unsure of what to say. Is he apologizing for the way he acted after I made him come his brains out, or is he apologizing that it even happened in the first place? “Want to elaborate?”

With an audible swallow, he scoots closer, like his proximity is going to curb the irritation I feel. “I shouldn’t have freaked out at you like that,” he starts. “I mean, I know why I did, but I shouldn’t have hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t,” I lie.

“Oh,” he says, a little flash of insecurity in his eyes that he quickly washes away. “Well, I’m still sorry.”

A normal, kind person would say they accept his apology, but he’s made it clear that I’m anything but that. I stand, ignoring the way his eyes widen and then narrow at my dismissal. Before I can step out of the booth, a hand on my elbow stops me.

Oh, hell no.

I turn slowly, ready to tell him to get his fucking hand off me, until I see his expression. He looks nervous in a way I’ve never seen before. Almost like he’s unsure about something and that’s not like Elton. He’s Mr. Confident, the loud, obnoxious bulldozing bunny with no filter.

“What?” I snap, hating how drawn I am to that pathetically weak look he wears. “You have something to say?”

He blinks once, twice, and instead of saying something, he surprises me by yanking me to him and slamming his lips against mine. It starts off weird, a bit robotic, just the hard press of his lips against mine, but then he flicks his tongue out to play with my piercing, and I snap out of it. I open my mouth for him, snaking my tongue against his, and the heat intensifies. He sucks on my barbell, playing with metal, and giving me a tease of how skilled his tongue is.

He’s the one to break the kiss. Dropping his forehead against mine, his breaths fan my puffy wet lips as he looks at me with dazed eyes, like he needs a second to recover. “Okay, that was hot.”

“What was that?” I ask, still letting him hold on to me for some crazy reason. “You go around just kissing random guys?”

“No, but I do with someone I want to fuck.”

My eyes widen, and he flusters to correct himself.

“I mean, to fuck around with. Not that I wouldn’t mind fucking you. I guess that’s where it would lead, right? Well, no, I don’t want to let my preconceived notions of male relationships have me believe that penetrative sex is required to have a fulfilling?—”

“You want to fuck around?” I cut off his rambling. “With me?”

He shrugs sheepishly, dropping my arm so he can scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, why not?”

“Um, because you don’t like me?” I deadpan.

“I don’t have to like you to want to make out with you.”

Fair point.

I think through his offer, and I can’t deny that it’s tempting. Elton’s hot, and it’s been months since I’ve gotten any action. He could definitely curb that itch my right hand has been scratching lately. But I honestly don’t think I could handle being around him so much. He annoys the ever-living shit out of me. We’re completely opposite and not in a cute way. He’s the confident golden boy and I’m the reject.

As I open my mouth to tell him it’s not going to happen because of those very reasons, the doors to the club open, letting in the bright Miami light. Everest and Rhys walk in, hand-in-hand, looking so ridiculously in love. Everest is going on about something, his head lulling onto Rhys’s shoulder, and Rhys glances down at him and pinches his chin, smothering his mouth with his own to shut him up.

Does Everest fucking live here now? While I love him, his constant proximity to Rhys is making things difficult for me. If only he knew how this felt, watching someone you love be with someone else. The pain, the regret, the?—

Then it hits me. The only times I’ve been able to push aside that pain and regret are when I’m with Elton. Well, not with him so much as making him come. Messing around with him has tamed some of my needs that used to revolve around Everest. The more I think about it, this is actually perfect.

I need a rebound.

I need a dumb hot hunk with a way-too-shiny personality to help me get over the man I actually want. I can get lost in Elton, take out all my frustrations on him, and use him until it no longer hurts to breathe the same air as Rheverest . I’ll fall out of love someday, and until then, why not have some fun getting over it?

“Deal.”

“Deal?” Elton repeats, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I didn’t think you’d actually agree to it.”

“Why not?” I try to smooth the bite in my voice.

“Maybe because you don’t like me ?”

“I don’t have to like you to want you to suck my dick,” I throw back at him. To that, he laughs, and the sound is grating. “So, we have a deal? We’ll fuck around a bit?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling far too widely. “Sounds great.”

“Tonight,” I tell him, then shove my phone in his hands. “Put your number in.”

He gulps. “Tonight?”

“Want to back out now?” I level him with an incredulous look, scoffing. “Make up your damn mind.”

He stares at me for a beat before his eyes harden, mumbling “asshole” under his breath as he types out his phone number. Huffing, he shoves it against my chest. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“You remember my address?”

“Yeah,” he says, and the blush must be of the memory of how he woke up there after one too many Blue Nipples.

I nod and reach around him to grab my duffel bag, preferring to finish up my work upstairs in one of the offices than down here, where I’m privy to my best friend and his boyfriend. The good news is, I don’t have to think about it for long, because tonight I’ll finally be able to do something about it.

Elton has no idea what he’s signed up for.