He frowns. “Seriously?” He slows me to a stop when we reach the tailgate, turning me all the way toward him so we’re face to face, not side by side. “This wasn’t my first encounter with the man, remember?”
“Yeah.” I twist my mouth back and forth. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to forget some of those unflattering encounters though.” I shrug. “I’ve seen it happen with people all the time. Hell, even I spent years going back and forth about whether ornot I was making things out to be way worse than they really were.”
“Even if I hadn’t seen firsthand the shit he’s capable of,” he says, very slowly and intentionally, like he wants to make sure I’m listening to every word, “your word would have been enough. He couldn’t have swayed me to believe in him over you. Ever.”
I lean into him, resting my forehead on his chest, while his arms encircle me. After a moment, I look up. “Thank you.”
He bends down to kiss me. Several times. For several long minutes.
Neither of us needs more words after that.
The drive home stays quiet, Knox at the wheel, me watching him in a silent state of contented bliss. Our hands are entangled, resting on the center console, and my eyes can’t help but keep coming back to them. The way they fit. The way they seem to belong to one another. Maybe he really will take a redeye Saturday night and come home to me,to us, on Sunday.
Despite their stop for ice cream, (God, I know that man well), my parents and Sloan beat us home. She comes hopping down the steps, wet hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in her pajamas, when she hears us come in.
“Can we watch a movie? I’m totally wired from the show, and I want to hang out since Knox is leaving tomorrow.”
I look to Knox, who nods. That works for me. “You all go ahead and pick something. I want to shower off really quick too.”
“You’re gonna wanna make it extra quick,” Sloan quips. “I don’t think I left you much hot water.”
“I expected as much.” I shower after her often enough to know I have maybe three minutes to lather everything up and rinse, before the water runs cold. But that’s fine. Three minutes is all I want to waste on getting clean anyway. Time is precioustonight, and I’d rather not spend more on my own than necessary.
When I come back down, Knox and Sloan are camped out on the sofa, blankets are sprawled out, drinks are on the table, and Sloan even busted out the popcorn maker from the looks of things.
“We couldn’t decide,” Sloan informs me as I wedge myself into the middle between them. “We narrowed it down to two we really like, but you’re the tiebreaker.”
“I get to choose?” I like getting to choose. With two people, one of them being the mom and the other the kid, that doesn’t usually happen. As the mom, you kind of get in the habit of defaulting to the kid. At least in terms of entertainment. Obviously not all areas of life.
After careful consideration between the options, one action-adventure-fantasy sort and one comedy, I go with the former.
It winds up being three hours long, as every epic fantasy should be, and we’re all half-asleep by the time the credits are scrolling by.
“You take care of sleeping beauty and I clean up?” Knox offers, reaching for the remote to turn off the television.
“That works.” I place a kiss on his lips before we move too far apart again. “Meet you in bed after?”
He smiles, kissing me back. “Deal.”
It takes several tries, but I finally manage to wake Sloan enough to get her up the stairs and to her room.
She’s already drifting off again as I’m tucking her in.
“Did you see Knox’s face while I was dancing?” she mumbles, eyes closed as she pulls the blanket up to her chin.
“I did.”
She smiles. “That was my favorite part of tonight.”
My heart lurches in my chest. I bend down to kiss her cheek. “Mine too.”
I doubt she’s awake enough to hear me when I leave the room, turn off the light and pull the door to a crack but it never stops me from whispering ‘I love you’ before I go.
Knox is just coming up the stairs when I come out of her room.
I open my mouth, suddenly compelled to say a million things. Maybe take back a few I said yesterday. Or amend them at the very least, but he stops me before I can get a word out.
“It’s just bedtime,” he says softly. “We’re just getting ready for bed. Like any other night.”
