Page 90 of Knox's Boy

"Thank you," he whispered against my shoulder, his voice thick with approaching sleep.

"For what?" I asked, equally quiet.

"For letting me in."

Three simple words, yet they hit me. I tightened my arm around him, drawing him closer, unable to formulate a verbal response that wouldn't bring me to tears. Me, a man who never cried. Instead, I pressed my lips to his forehead.

He had indeed breached walls I'd spent decades fortifying. The strange thing was, I no longer felt exposed or vulnerable because of it. Instead, there was a curious sense of relief. I'd tell him everything he wanted to know. I'd let him live through everything there was still to be built. Perhaps this was what it meant to truly belong to someone, not just to possess them, but to allow yourself to be possessed in return.

Chapter 38. Knox

I scrolled through my digital calendar while sipping my morning espresso. Across the breakfast table, Florian hunched over a bowl of granola and yogurt, still half-asleep in my silk pajamas that hung loose. Morning light caught in his blond hair, creating a halo effect that made him look angelic.

My finger paused mid-swipe as I noticed something.

"Well, I forgot about this," I said, setting my espresso cup down with a soft clink against the saucer.

Florian looked up, blinking like an owl. A drop of milk clung to his lower lip. "Hmm?"

"My birthday," I said, turning the tablet toward him. "The twenty-second."

He squinted at the screen, his mind visibly working to process this information through the fog of sleep. "Oh, that's cool, Daddy." Then his eyes widened slightly as the implication registered. "Wait, that's like... next week."

I smiled, enjoying his slow awakening. "Yes, it is. I typically don't make much of my birthday, but this year feels different." I reached across the table to wipe away the milk with my thumb, which made his cheeks flush. "I'd like to celebrate."

Florian straightened, sleep falling away as interest sparked in his eyes. "Really? You want to do something for your birthday?"

"I do." I stood, moving to the coffee maker to refresh my cup, giving him a moment to fully wake up. "I'm thinking I'd like to visit the Knox Vineyard with some of my closest friends." I turned, leaning against the counter, watching his face carefully.

"The vineyard?" Florian perked up, his spoon suspended halfway to his mouth. "The one you own? In Napa?"

"The same," I confirmed. "It's beautiful this time of year."

His eyes shone with excitement, then clouded almost imperceptibly. I knew that shift, the moment, his persistent self-doubt arising.

"Your friends will be there?" he asked, his voice smaller now, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of my pajamas that drooped past his wrist.

I nodded, watching him closely. "Just a few. People I've known for years. They're looking forward to meeting you."

The shadow across his face deepened. "They know about me? About... us?"

"They do," I said gently. "These aren't business associates, Florian. These are people I trust. People who care about my happiness. My friends. Of course, I told them."

He pushed his granola around the bowl, no longer eating. "What do they think? About the age difference? About you dating someone… like me?"

I sighed, recognizing the old demon resurfacing. "They think I'm happier than they've seen me in decades. Which is true." I reached across the table, covering his restless hand with mine. "They're not the judging type, little one. If they were, they wouldn't be my friends."

"What should I wear?" he asked, his voice tight with anxiety. "I don't have anything fancy enough for a vineyard party with billionaires."

"We'll get you whatever makes you comfortable," I assured him, but I could see the worry had taken root. His body had tensed entirely.

I stood, circling the table to stand behind his chair. I placed my hands on his shoulders, feeling the knots of tension beneath the silk. Slowly, I began to massage him, my thumbs pressing into the tight muscles at the base of his neck.

"These are just people, Florian. Wealthy ones, yes, but still just people. And they're important to me, which means they'll make an effort for you."

He leaned back into my touch, a small surrender. "What if they think I'm just after your money? What if they think I'm not smart enough or sophisticated enough?"

"Then they'd be fools," I said firmly, my fingers continuing their gentle work. "And I don't befriend fools. Besides, Lucas is bringing his partner who's only twenty-four. And Sophia is thirty. You won't be as young there."