When I Break

Chapter Nine

McKenna

It had been a week since I’d seen Knox. Never in my life had I looked forward to my Saturday morning group so much.

All week I replayed in my mind the time we spent together at his house. I had felt a pull inside me, an indescribable urge to get closer to him. There were so many layers to his personality, so many sides to him. I wanted to know each one, to turn him like a crystal in the light, to inspect his many facets.

Knox entered the room and a slow smile tugged at my mouth. With his messy dark hair sticking up in several directions, he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He was dressed in jeans, work boots left unlaced, and a plain white T-shirt with a gray wool jacket slung over his arm. He looked rugged and beautiful. His eyes cut straight to mine. The way he looked at me was overwhelming; I could feel that penetrating gaze deep inside my body. And I liked it way too much.

I all but collapsed into my chair, needing to sit to steady my nerves. That week’s group session was about making amends for your past wrongs. Basically it was about getting right with yourself and others in order to move forward.

We spent much of the hour talking about sexually transmitted diseases, how to notify past lovers of bad news, and the courage that took. A few people already had recent tests completed, and spoke about how nerve-wracking it was to get their results. Most of the others agreed to get testing done, and we agreed to talk next time about how to handle whatever their outcomes might be. I had the contact information for an AIDS/HIV support group at my desk, but I hoped I didn’t need it. Thinking like that was probably juvenile, though. These people had exposed themselves and others to serious risk, and I feared theirs might not all be good news.

Throughout the entire conversation, Knox was quiet and contemplative as always. I wondered about his status and if he’d also pursue the testing this week. Something told me probably not. At least, not without a little shove.

I ended the group by passing out information on the local clinics that offered free testing. Knox took the flyer, but stuffed it inside his jacket pocket without reading it.

After everyone else had filtered out of the room, Knox stood and stretched, his arms lifting above his head. The movement lifted his T-shirt several inches to expose firm, sculpted abs. A bolt of heat raced through me. I really needed to have this thermostat checked.

I wandered over to where he stood, summoning my courage. “Have you been tested?”

His eyes flashed on mine, seemingly surprised I’d questioned him so directly. “I always use condoms.”

I felt a small measure of comfort knowing that information. Of course it wasn’t enough, but it was something. “Condoms can break. You should be tested.”

“I have no weird symptoms. No burning sensation when I pee. I’m good.” He smiled, trying to turn this into something lighthearted, but I stood my ground.

“You have your brothers to think about, Knox. Do it for them.” It might have been an unfair move, playing his brothers against him, but I knew that would get through.

He pulled the rumpled flyer from his pocket and looked down at it. “Come with me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course.”

His eyes lifted to meet mine. “Now?”

I hesitated, then relented. “Okay.”

We waited at the clinic almost an hour before they could see Knox. They were busy on Saturdays, but still, I was glad we were here. I worried that if we postponed this, he’d never come back. He’d tried to encourage me to get tested too, handing me a clipboard when we checked in, but I’d refused. Little did Knox know, my sexual past was all but nonexistent. We were quite opposites in that way.

When he emerged from the doctor’s office fifteen minutes later, his expression was sour, and his posture tense. “Let’s go.” He didn’t bother stopping to wait for me to put my coat back on, so I jogged after him, stuffing my arms into the jacket as I tried to catch up.

“What happened?”

He turned to face me once we’d reached his Jeep in the parking lot. “I did it, all right?”

“Well, what’s wrong?” I knew he wouldn’t get his results for a week, so I was clueless about his sour mood.

“They jammed a giant Q-tip up my dick.”

I giggled, relieved that it wasn’t something worse. “I’m sure you’ll live.”

“You think that’s funny?” The line between his brow softened as he looked me over.

I put on a straight face. “Sorry. No. I just…I’m glad you did this.”

“Come on, I’m taking you home. Besides, I’m sure you’re off to do more good in the world after this.”

I didn’t argue and climbed inside the Jeep, happy with my little breakthrough with him. Today had been a victory and I felt proud, though more than a little worried about his results.