I sighed. “You think it makes you weak to talk about your feelings?”
“No! Not at all. I just…” His mouth firmed and he shook his head once. “It does no good to dwell on negative shit. You’ve gotta push through. Keep looking forward. Remember people are counting on you. You know?” He sipped his drink. “That’s a life lesson for you, Goodman. Free of charge.”
“Wow.” I leaned my head on my hand. “That advice is worth about as much as I paid for it.”
Knox didn’t seem to notice my sarcasm. “So, I turned down the meds, and Dr. Travers said another option was to remove the stressors from my life temporarily.” He spread his hands wide, like it was plain to see which option he’d chosen. “And lo and behold, I haven’t had a full-on attack in weeks.” He curled in on himself again and stared morosely down at the glass in his hand. “Until tonight.”
“Yeah?” I tilted my cheek against the back of the sofa and watched him. The golden glow of lamplight caressed his beard the way I wished I could. “You should’ve said something.Allof us were worried about Aiden, Knox.”
He shook his head. “I was holding it together fine until Aiden came home. But then…” He swirled the liquor in his glass but didn’t continue.
“Did the relief throw you for a loop?”
“Not exactly. The thought occurred to me that this could have happened while I was in Boston. Webb might not even have called me. I wouldn’t have been able to help. And this whole terrifying possible scenario where Aiden was hurt played out on an endless loop in my brain, and my chest got tight, and I…” He cleared his throat. “It took half an hour to talk myself down, but I’m good now.”
God, the man was so sweet. And so frustrating.
“That sounds awful. I wish you’d told me or someone else. I wish you hadn’t gone through that alone. But those intrusive thoughts are something you could, you know,talk to your therapistabout. You don’t have to white-knuckle your way to being okay, Knox. In fact, I don’t think you can. Wasting your time trying is inefficient,” I teased gently.
Knox shrugged. “I’ll mention it next time we do a telehealth visit. It doesn’t matter, though. Iwashere, Aiden is fine, all is well,” he recited. “And I’m gonna make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He finished his drink and winced at the burn. “Webbneeds a lawyer. He can’t afford it, and he doesn’t want to accept my help to pay for it, but good lawyers aren’t cheap, and I need him to have the best. Whoever represented him during his divorce must operate their law practice out of the back of a Ford Pinto, because Amanda cleaned Webb out financiallyandhe didn’t even get sole custody of Aiden.”
“How are you going to make him change his mind about you giving him the money, then?”
“I’ll reason with him.Strongly.” He shrugged. “Webb’s my younger brother.”
“Oh, Lord. What does that mean?”
Knox’s sideways grin was a little bit wry, a little bit mischievous. Not quite his happy-go-lucky smile, but one that made my heart pound nevertheless. “It means I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he and Aiden are okay.”
Seriously,sosweet. And so goddamn frustrating.
“Whether Webb likes it or not? And yet you think thatWebbshould simply stop worrying aboutyou?” I sighed. “You are the biggest of all big brothers. It’s a two-way worry-street, Knox.”
I fetched him a bottle of cold water before coming back to prod at his beefy shoulder until he stood. “Plan your strategy tomorrow, Genghis Khan,” I instructed. “For now, sleep.”
I followed him to his room and set the water bottle on his little nightstand. “You need anything else? Puke bucket? Bedtime story? I’ve got one about a warrior mage that’ll knock your socks off.”
Knox sat on the edge of his bed, ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, and looked up at me solemnly. “You know, all this was so much easier when I told myself I didn’t like you.”
“Yeah?” I set my hands on my hips, torn between decking him and kissing the life out of him. I didn’t have to ask whatall thiswas. I knew because I felt it, too. “You want me to start ignoring you again? ’Cause I can do that for you.”
And I meant it. I was so fucking annoyed at the big lummox for denying us what we both wanted that if he’d said yes, I vowed I’d ignore him so powerfully he would fuckingglow like nuclear wastefrom the force of it. I would ignore him so loudly his ears would ring, and he’d get no rest by night or by day. Legends would be told about the magnificence of my ignoring.
But instead, he shook his head slowly and said in a soft and totally un-Knox-like voice, “Nah. I don’t think I could make myself believe it anymore. I don’t think I believed it then. Night, Goodman.”
Ugh. What kind of utter asshole took away a man’s anger by saying something sweet like that?
I wanted to punish him for it. I wanted to push him down on the bed and do unspeakable things to his lumberjacky body. I wanted to bite his incredible ass like it was a damn Westfield Seek-No-Further and taste the salt of his skin on my tongue. I wanted to reach out a hand to his face like I had at the club just a few days before to erase the serious little pucker between his eyebrows. I wanted to curl up beside him and rest.
Instead, I clenched my hands into fists and stuffed my fists into my pockets, vowing to give him the space he said he wanted.
“Night, Knox,” I said just as softly, and then I turned and fled.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KNOX
“Morning, Goodman.”I leaned back against the counter in the efficiency kitchen and sipped my coffee as Gage shuffled out of his bedroom. He wore flannel pajama pants, a T-shirt bearing a picture of a beaver above the word “dam,” and a pair of heavy woolen socks he’d “borrowed” from me when the first October cold snap had hit.
