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Jesus, Cillian.

I panic, but I don’t move.

We stay like that, trembling in the aftermath, breathing each other’s air.

Slowly, Knox slips out of me and sets me back on my feet.

He pulls a small package of wet wipes from his pocket and cleans us both up.

“You had lube, a condom, and wet wipes in your pants?” I ask, chuckling as we fix our clothes.

“Björn,” he says, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“Oh, please elaborate.”

Knox sighs, rubbing his face and looking away and—Oh, my God!

Is he... embarrassed?

“I sort of… talked with Finni and Björn about you,” Knox admits. “Before I came looking for you, Björn hugged me and snuck all those things into my pocket.”

“You talked about me?!” I gasp, shocked.

“Yeah… about how you were avoiding me, and other stuff.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” I lie.

I was totally avoiding him, and from the look he gives me, yeah, he knows it too.

“Fine… I was. But that’s because of what you said…”

“Cil, what did I say?”

“I heard you tell Tae it’s disgusting how I expected you to sleep with me just because I’m rich, without giving a single fuck about what you wanted,” I explain.

And fuck… it still hurts.

I expect Knox to pull away, tell me we can’t do this anymore, and walk out. Instead, he pulls me into a hug and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I wasn’t talking about you, Prince.”

“You weren’t?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “Then who?”

“Some rich asshole who offered me a million to fuck him for a week.”

“Who the fuck asked you that?!” I pull back, ready to find the bastard and beat the hell out of him, but Knox holds me close and kisses my neck.

“I don’t know his name, Prince.”

“Describe the soon-to-be-dead asshole.”

Knox lifts his hand to his collarbone, smiling at my reaction. “Around this height, shit taste in shirts, looks like a leprechaun, and wears like twenty necklaces.”

Twenty necklaces?!

“Claudio! That motherfucker… wait until I see him.”

Knox chuckles, pulling me closer. “Are you going to fight for my honor?”