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“Maybe mine is, too. So I guess we’ll both leave it at that.”
He starts to release me, but I wrap my legs around his waist to stop him from getting up. “It doesn’t matter.”
Knox gives me a questioning glance but remains in his position.
“It’s okay if our pasts remain in the past. We can just focus on the present for now.”
“For now?”
“My mom once told me we can’t escape our pasts forever. There will be a day when we’ll have to face it.” I brush my lips against his briefly, letting myself taste him on my tongue. “But that day isn’t today.”
He remains silent for a long second, staring, unblinking.
Shit. Did I say something wrong?
I’m about to backpedal or pull away, but he captures my mouth in a long, passionate kiss that steals my breath away.
Then we fall back asleep with his heartbeat against mine.
22
ANASTASIA
When Knox said he’s not close to being done with me, he absolutely meant it.
It’s been three weeks since he ambushed me in my apartment and there hasn’t been a day that he hasn’t shown up at my door.
He basically lives here now, brings groceries, and helps me cook. Oh, and he’s totally in control of cleaning my place, keeping it spotless. The other day, he bought wallpaper and furniture, then remodeled the whole thing, hiding the smoke marks and asymmetrical stars.
But no matter how much he cleans my place, he makes it dirty again with all the sex. He doesn’t get enough, ever. Whether it’s in the kitchen, the shower, or even when I’m sitting peacefully trying to create systems, he just swoops in and fucks me like he hasn’t touched me in decades.
His presence in my living space feels weirdly domesticated, and I’ve been trying not to get used to the company, to keep reminding myself that I’m on my own.
That at the end of whatever fucked-up fixation he has on me, I’ll be alone again.
But it gets harder every day, especially since the little bonding moment we had after his nightmare. We feel closer now, more in tune with each other than ever before.
His presence is like a potent chemical reaction—impossible to ignore and leaves me craving more.
And it’s not only about sex.
It’s about how I’ve converted him to being a fantasy novel fan and how he dedicates time to watching movies with me. Not only that, but Knox is also a fun conversationalist with a dark sense of humor that I relate to. With him, I get to be nerdy and talk about the latest technology without him judging me. If anything, he listens to me talk as if my words are the most sacred things to ever exist.
However, since he’s here most of the time, I have to callBabushkaduring work or before he gets here. I also check on the people from my previous life when he’s sleeping so that he doesn’t get a glimpse of them.
If it were up to me, I’d keep them and Knox worlds apart, but that’s wishful thinking, especially since they’re affiliated with Matt Bell—the man Knox is trying to defeat.
Sandra had a panic attack at the civil case pretrial hearing. I was on the verge of one as well from being in the midst of all those people, even though I hid outside.
The media’s attention to the case is insane, like absolutely atrocious, and all their questions to Sandra were vicious. Not only do they hunt her down every chance they get, but they also asked if she faked the panic attack to play on the judge’s sympathy.
Although I remained in the background most of the time, it was almost as if eyes were on me, as if my worst nightmare was coming true and everything would end.
I was more paranoid than usual and I nearly gave into the irrational fear, but I didn’t, because Sandra needed me. So I had to be there for her, even if my skin was crawling.
Even if I contemplated running away again and never coming back.
However, I don’t think that’s possible anymore, not when I’ve established roots I don’t like to admit having.
