“Half an hour. Remember when our boy here was drunk-texting Willa that weekend we all stayed at Ollie’s place?”
“Yea. Ollie slept with his ex’s little sister.”
“Right,” Whit says, scrolling through the phone. “Do you still have that video of me deleting the texts?”
“I should. Here, give it,” Booker takes the phone and seconds later I’m watching as Whit laughs his ass off while reciting the crap-ass poetry I wrote. I watch his finger hit the delete key, and that fast, I’m up off my stool and reaching for my phone.
Knox:We need to talk. Tonight.
Willa:I’m just about to give Rose her bath. And it’s been a long day. Can it wait until tomorrow?
Knox:I never sent those texts.
Willa:What?
Knox:Those texts. The ones you keep talking about but refuse to discuss? I never sent them.
Willa:Yes, you did.
Knox:I swear to you I didn’t. I have proof.
Willa:So do I. I screenshotted them.
Knox:Please come over?
Willa:Knox, I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Knox:I think it is. I need to see you—you and Rose. We need to figure this out.
Willa:It’s late.
Knox: It’s 7 pm. Please. I’m losing my shit over here. If our time together meant anything, I need you to come here. I need you to hear what I have to say.
There’s a pause while I wait for her response. I grip my phone tightly, praying to any god that might exist to give me one fucking break.
Willa:We’ll be there soon.
* * *
Willa
Once again, I find myself at the stately house Knox and his friends call home. Whit opens the door and holds his arms out for Rose, and she goes willingly. It’s no wonder. He’s over six feet of hunk with dark blond wavy hair and a smile that could land him in a Crest ad.
“Rose!I made you chicken. Yummy, yummy chicken. And bread. It’s gonna taste so good!” She claps and he beams.
“Hey, Willa, it’s good to see you. Come on in. Dinner’s ready if you wanna head into the dining room.”
“That’s ok. I just need to talk to Knox. And Rose already ate.”
Ty’s sitting at the table, eating a roll, and Phoebe is perched on his lap. We wave and she pats the seat next to her, inviting me to join them, but I stand frozen, trapped in Knox’s gaze. He strides toward me, never breaking eye contact and wraps his fingers gently around my wrist.
“Come with me?” The slight uptick in his voice is what does it. There’s a vulnerability there I haven’t heard in a long time. I nod, but turn back, casting a glance at Rose.
“She’s fine,” Knox assures me, and though the mama bear in me wants to argue, I can’t deny my baby girl is happy in her brand new high chair, grabbing at the tiny bites of food Whit has laid out on the tray for her. Booker comes in from the kitchen, twisting the cap on a sippy cup. He holds it up for me to inspect. “Water ok?” he asks before handing it to Rose. I nod, and he smiles at me. “We got this, I promise. You guys talk and we’ll holler if we need you, ok?”
Rose doesn’t even notice when I turn the corner and follow Knox up the staircase and into his room. He crosses to the bed and sits, still holding my wrist and tugging me gently down next to him.
We sit in silence for a moment; then he turns to me, his voice deep and rumbly, but familiar and comforting too. “I was so fucking gone for you. The moment I saw your face in that auditorium, it was all over. I never stood a chance. The week we spent together was the best week of my life, and that is no exaggeration. Yea, I grew up with a lot of privilege,” he looks around. “Can’t deny that. But I also grew up in a world devoid of affection. Any morsel of attention was hard-won and cost a hefty price. But with you? It all came free, though I’d have done anything to earn it.”
