“You’re quick to defend him,” Ian smiles behind his teacup.
I blush. “Not really. Just wanted to say that maybe he deserves the benefit of the doubt when it comes to Psych. Besides, you’re the one who’s a huge proponent of talk therapy.”
“True…”
I sigh. “This is what I don’t get—what I just can’t wrap my head around. That cocky, sort of messed-up guy you’re talking about, that sounds like my Knox. We met the last week of high school. My dad and I moved mid-year and so I didn’t really know anyone. I dropped my folder after graduation practice and he picked it up and we started talking and...yea. We were teenagers, you know. Super-attracted to each other, not thinking of the future or consequences or anything. But then reality set in when my dad and I got kicked out of our apartment. I never told Knox. I just left town, figuring he’d be better off without me. I felt like my life was unraveling at the seams and I didn’t want him to get mixed up in my mess. But then, later that summer, I found out I was pregnant. So, of course I told Knox. Took me forever to get ahold of him, but I felt like he deserved to know. And if I’m being honest, I wanted him to know,” I say, my eyes getting a little watery. “I wanted him there with me, helping me figure it all out. But when I told him, it did not go well. He was angry. And cruel. His words…” my voice trails off. “I’ll never forget the things he texted, and that’s when I knew my baby and I were on our own, and we were better off that way.”
Ian sets his teacup down on a coaster. “Wow. I’ve said it before, but you’re a badass, Willa Forsythe. And I’m really sorry you had to go through all that—that he put you through all that. I never really got a cruel or angry vibe from Knox, and I just can’t see Booker or Whit being so close to someone with such a nasty streak, but I guess we all have our secrets, right? And I do remember hearing rumors that he was a freaking mess last year—drinking, parties, all the usual college stuff, but to a level of excess that bordered on dangerous.”
My heart hurts for Knox, which doesn’t make a lot of sense. I shouldn’t feel anything but anger for him, and yet I can’t help the pang of sympathy that thrums through my chest. I yawn, exhausted. Not only have I been up since six, but today has been never-ending.
“You need to get some sleep,” Ian tells me. “All this will keep.”
I nod, knowing he’s right. I stand and fold the blanket across the back of the couch. He takes our teacups into the kitchen and places them in the sink. “Get some rest, Willa,” he tells me, “and give me the monitor, ok? If Rose wakes up, I’m on duty.”
I smile, grateful for his help, and not too proud to accept it. I’d have never made it this far without Ian’s help, and I have no doubt I’ll be leaning on him over the next few weeks.
Because yes, I managed to dodge Knox’s questions tonight, but I know him well enough to know he’s going to come back around.
Chapter 11
Knox
“Fucking hell!” I yell as I open the door after walking home from my disastrous meet up with Willa. My friends look up from the TV screen and register my arrival. Sure, it’s not the first time I’ve walked into my house swearing and banging shit around, and it probably won’t be the last. But this time, it’s warranted.
“I take it things with Willa didn’t go well?” Whit asks from the recliner.
“Wait—Willa? As in Ian’s Willa?” Phoebe pops up from her spot on the couch next to Ty.
Ty starts to answer her, but I cut him off. “Ian’sWilla? Like fucking hell she’s Ian’s.” Christ. I was pissed before, but now I’m fuming.
“Knox, chill,” Phoebe scolds. “Ian’s gay, as you know. But they’re pretty close. Her rent went up a couple weeks ago, so she moved in with him, and—”
“SheliveswithIan? Jesus fucking Christ. Could my luck get any worse? God-fucking-damn it.” I slam shit around in the kitchen until Booker steps in and grabs the glasses I was looking for.
He pulls the whiskey down from the cabinet, fills the glasses with ice, and pours two generous helpings. “Who else is drinking?”
“Count me in,” says Whit.
“I am, but not that shit Knox drinks. Get me a beer? And Phoebe wants one of her girly drinks,” Ty calls.
Booker pours another glass, then grabs a beer and a vodka soda from the fridge. I take the drink he poured and salute him before taking a drink. “I like it better without ice,” I tell him.
“I know, but I have a feeling this is the first of many, so humor me, huh?”
Shaking my head, I plunk my ass down on one of the recliners.
“What the hell happened?” Whit wants to know.
“We met at Wolfie’s. It was awkward at first. We didn’t know what to say to each other. Hell, we hadn’t seen each other in a year and a half until yesterday, and that sure as shit wasn’t my best look. But it was going ok. Then fucking Chad showed up, so we went to the back room because I didn’t want to cause another scene and get my ass arrested again. Aren’t you fuckers proud of me?”
“Yea, we’ll put another sticker on your chart. Now what the hell did you do to piss Willa off?”
“I have no fucking clue,” I say honestly. “Seriously. We barely started talking, but I thought it was going alright. Hell, it was going more than alright. I kissed her and asked her to spend the night with me.”
“Jesus, Knox. What is wrong with you?” Ty’s eyes are damn near bulging out of his head.
“Quit clutching your damn pearls. I hear you and your girlfriend having sex every night. And most mornings. Don’t be such a prude.”
