When I Break

Chapter Eight

McKenna

I could not have handled that worse. I hated the idea that I’d offended Knox; that was never my intention. Maybe he’d been serious about opening up one-on-one with me—perhaps it hadn’t been a pick-up line at all. And I’d overreacted. Horribly. A sour pit sank low in my stomach and settled there.

I noticed a small leather-bound notebook resting against the desktop where Knox had been leaning. Crossing the room to retrieve the book, I wondered if there was a way to find him, to apologize and return his journal. I should have just waited to return it to him next Saturday, assuming he came back, but I knew that wasn’t what I wanted.

This group was supposed to be anonymous, but Knox gave his last name at the first meeting—Bauer. And his first name wasn’t all that common, so perhaps I’d have some luck finding him. I pulled out my smartphone and typed his name into Google: Knox Bauer + Chicago, and was rewarded with an address. A home in the South Loop, not too far from where I lived.

Since I hadn’t yet gotten around to buying a car, I took the city bus to a stop that would let me off two blocks from his neighborhood. Along the way, my mind drifted to Brian and the overprotective nature he’d been exhibiting lately. I knew I needed to have a talk with him soon.

After moving to Chicago, Brian had interviewed at several accounting firms in the city and quickly got multiple offers. He insisted that he wouldn’t have me living by myself in a strange city, and changed his entire career plan for me. Living here alone was part of the appeal, but of course I hadn’t argued. I had someone to hang out with Friday nights or go to the Laundromat with on Sundays. It was nice. And he was someone steady I could rely on. I couldn’t really complain; he looked after me and I wasn’t naive enough to think that a young girl alone in the city didn’t need a friend.

Of course there was a chance he might read things wrong between us if we lived together. Sometimes the way he looked at me for too long made me wonder if he and I were on the same page about our friends-only relationship status. But he’d insisted, and I hadn’t refused, even though I knew I’d never reciprocate any deeper feelings he might have. Maybe he was too safe a choice—he wasn’t broken—there was nothing for me to fix, so he held no appeal. But either way, I just wasn’t attracted to him that way.

My thoughts drifted as I stared out the window of the bus. Cars whizzed past and tall buildings loomed in the distance. There was a whole bustling world out there that I wasn’t a part of. My life had become something almost unrecognizable. I knew how I’d gotten this way: one tiny step at a time. A few months after I lost my parents, I began volunteering. The grief counselor I saw at school thought it might help, and she was right. Caring for others got my mind off my grief and reminded me that not everyone led a charmed life. I spent time at the soup kitchen, the homeless shelter, a center for special needs kids. It became somewhat of an obsession. It was my escape from the harsh reality my life had become.

My parents’ deaths had been my fault. Not literally, of course; I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that. But in a small way, I was responsible, and that was all that mattered. There was no un-doing what I’d done. They’d died in a terrible car accident at the hands of a drunk driver on their way to church one Sunday. I still remembered every vivid detail about that morning.

I’d wanted to sleep in, as I often wanted to do on Sundays. It became a sticking point for me and my mom. We’d fight every weekend because I didn’t care about going to church. I was too old for Sunday school and didn’t see the importance of going. We’d argued that morning, and I’d screamed at them from my room and slammed the door in my mother’s face. They’d left late because of me, much later than usual, and when they drove through the intersection of Main Street and Fourth, the drunk driver was there, running the red light just in time to slam into the passenger side door, killing my mom instantly and banging up my dad pretty badly. He was airlifted to a nearby hospital and died from bleeding inside his brain two days later.

If I’d just been selfless enough that Sunday morning and put my own needs aside, I would have gone with my parents. They wouldn’t have left late, and they’d still be alive. But they weren’t, which was why I worked so hard to make amends for their deaths. It couldn’t be all for nothing.

Glancing at nearby passengers, I brushed at my cheeks, wiping away a few tears that had sneaked past my defenses. I took a few deep breaths, willing myself to think about something different, and clasped the journal tightly on my lap.

The journal. I hadn’t intended to look inside Knox’s notebook, but the boring bus ride, a desperate need to avoid my own depressing thoughts, and my overwhelming curiosity were a lethal combination, and within seconds my fingers were itching to open its pages. I glanced around again at the passengers around me, like they’d somehow know I was snooping. But of course no one was paying me any attention. I took a deep breath and unthreaded the little leather tie securing the book, then opened the book slowly, as if it held a great secret that I wanted to savor.

Inside the pages was anything but what I expected. Outside it looked like a journal, but there were no journal entries. Just sketch after sketch of the same woman. She was incredibly lifelike and beautiful with long dark hair curled in soft tendrils around her shoulders, wide yet sad eyes, and a graceful neck that led to a delicate collarbone. The simple pencil sketches with smudges of gray and black against the stark whiteness of the page gave the drawings a gritty, realistic feeling.

I could almost see Knox bent over this notebook, pencil in hand, a furrow of concentration slashed between his eyebrows. I wondered who the woman was. A former lover? His girlfriend? For the first time, I wondered about the man beyond his sexual addiction. I knew from my training that a sexual addition was often masking some other issue. With Knox, I had no idea what that might be. He seemed healthy and in control. But perhaps that was just a mask he put on.

I was so engrossed in the sketches that when the bus rolled to a stop, I barely noticed. Startled by other passengers rising and exiting the bus, I quickly wrapped the notebook with its leather ties and joined them when I realized it was my stop.

Huddling into my jacket for warmth, I walked through the neighborhood, noting the older homes, likely built in the early 1900s. Most were in need of a fresh coat of paint, and some needed a whole lot more—new windows, a replacement roof, or even a bulldozer.

When I found the house that bore his address, I stopped and looked up at the three-story home to see peeling pale yellow paint, a slanted front porch, and a heavy wooden door. It should have looked cold and uninviting, but some unspecified characteristic gave it charm. It felt homey and inviting, even if it was a strange home for a guy who appeared to be in his early twenties. Maybe he shared the big space with several roommates.

Clutching the leather-bound notebook in my hands, I climbed up the front steps and knocked on the door. Voices sounded from inside, but no one came. I waited several long moments and knocked again, more firmly this time.

A young boy with messy dark hair answered the door. “Hi,” he said simply, his smile revealing two missing front teeth.

“Hi. Um, is Knox here?” I asked uncertainly, all traces of confidence vanishing.

“Uh-huh.” He turned from the front door, leaving it wide open, presumably for me to follow him inside. With my heart slamming nervously into my ribs, I crossed the threshold and followed the little boy, sensing that everything I thought I knew was about to be challenged.

The scene in front of me took a moment to process. Knox was holding a baby girl in his arms and two teenage boys were wrestling on the living room couch. With all the commotion, they’d yet to notice me.

Knox looked completely at ease with the baby resting in his strong arms, and she was happily engrossed watching the wrestling match, blowing bubbles and cooing at the sight. I took all this in within a matter of seconds, trying to place what exactly I was seeing.

All three boys looked like mini versions of Knox. Dark hair, soulful caramel-colored eyes, and all of them were tall. Even the little boy who’d answered the door nearly reached my height of five foot two. But the baby had me baffled. She had light golden-blonde hair that hung in tiny ringlets around her face and big bright blue eyes.

Knox and the other guys still hadn’t noticed me, and the little boy who’d answered the door had busied himself with a giant pile of Legos in the center of the living room floor, while the others continued arguing. I took the opportunity to glance around at the rooms around me. The house was decorated with mismatched furnishings that had seen better days. But it was cozy and fairly neat. A large blue couch sat atop a woven brown rug and was flanked by wooden end tables scattered with papers and a baby bottle. A set of shelves held an array of toys and books, and straight ahead I could see the kitchen and dining room, along with a set of stairs that went off to my right. The home felt lived-in, not at all like my cramped, industrial-feeling apartment where everything was beige.

“Luke, Jaxon, cool it, would you? Grab me a diaper and some wipes,” Knox said, hoisting the baby up higher in his grasp.

“Oh fuck. Do you smell that?” The taller of the two boys rose to his feet, sniffing the air. “We’ve got a code green!”

“Don’t curse around Bailee, you dipshit.” The slightly shorter boy rose from the couch and shoved the other in the shoulder.

I cleared my throat and four sets of expressive brown eyes swung over to mine.

“McKenna?” Knox asked, his eyebrows rising. “What are you doing here?”

A bundle of nerves rose in my stomach and lodged in my throat. The grand plan I’d hatched about coming here to face him suddenly felt immature and idiotic. He had his own life and responsibilities, and here I was tracking him down like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“I—” My voice squeaked and I started again. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier.” I held up his notebook. “And return this to you.”

His eyes searched mine and his face softened. The little girl in his arms let out a short cry, pulling our gazes apart. “It’s okay, baby girl.” He bounced the little thing on his hip to quiet her like he’d done it a million times before.

“These are my brothers. Tucker.” He pointed to the little boy on the floor. “Jaxon and Luke.” Jaxon was the next tallest after Knox, probably six feet and had longish hair that hung in his eyes, and Luke was just a fraction shorter. “And this is Bailee.” He looked down at the little girl in his arms, but offered no further explanation.

“Guys, will one of you change Bailee so McKenna and I can go talk?”

“Hi, I’m Luke.” The shorter boy offered me his hand and I shook it. His entire hand closed around mine. I’d guess that he and Jaxon were both in high school, and I also guessed with their thick hair and gorgeous eyes fringed in dark lashes, they were both popular with the girls. Just like their older brother.

“Hi, Luke. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Who are you?” Jaxon asked, his mouth in a crooked grin as he looked me up and down.

“I’m a…friend of your brother’s.”

“Knox doesn’t have friends who are girls,” he challenged.

My mouth hung open. I was clueless about how to respond.

Knox stepped between us. “Enough, guys. Go take care of Bailee.” After handing the baby off to Luke, Knox turned to fully face me. I took in his chest-hugging thermal tee, dark denim, and bare feet. It was a side of him I wouldn’t have guessed at. Softer, paternal. It made my stomach tighten. I was used to things in my life being neat and orderly; I liked knowing what to expect. Knox challenged everything I thought I knew, and left me wanting to piece it all together.

“Join me in the kitchen?” he asked.

“Sure.” I waited for him to lead the way. I should have felt intimidated around him, with his broad shoulders and height, but I didn’t. Seeing him around his brothers made me feel completely comfortable.

His jaw tensed as he noticed the boys still watching us. “On second thought, there’s too many little ears down here. Are you okay if we go upstairs?” His dark honey eyes latched on to mine and I was rendered speechless. Join him in his bedroom? I should probably say no. But my head bobbed up and down in a nod.

Knox motioned me in front of him and I started up the stairs.

I could feel his hot gaze on my backside the entire way up the stairs. I wanted to spin around and catch him looking, but then what would I say? Like what you see? I wasn’t that brazen, so I continued climbing while my body heated under his stare that I could feel all the way to my core.

When we reached the second floor, his hand went to my lower back with a feather-light touch to silently guide me, indicating that I should continue up the third flight of stairs to the attic. From the way his fingertips lightly raked against my spine, I could tell he knew his way around a woman’s body. The thought both excited and frustrated me. How many women had he led up these stairs in the exact same manner?

I desperately needed to keep my perspective about why I was here. To help him as a member of my group. That was all. Right, McKenna, that’s why you haven’t stopped thinking about him once…and bussed it across the city just to return a notebook.

When we reached the third floor, the wooden planks creaked as I crossed the large bedroom, light streaming in on both sides from dormer windows set deeply into the vaulted ceiling. His bedroom was set up more like a mini apartment, with a sofa and TV on one side of the room, and queen-sized bed at the far end where the ceilings pitched their lowest.

I couldn’t help but notice the half-empty bottle of whiskey on his bedside table, and the hole punched through the wall a few feet from his bed. A pang of unease about being up here alone with him sliced right through my middle. I didn’t know him. Not at all. Yet here I was, alone in his bedroom. I’d never been so reckless and inquisitive, but something about Knox’s quiet intensity pushed me outside my comfort zone. I wanted to learn everything there was to know about this troubled, beautiful man.

He motioned me over to the sofa and I sat down, my back straight as an arrow with the notebook resting in my lap. I wondered if his bedroom was where Knox took his conquests. I knew the darker side of this addiction and the impulsive behaviors that drove people to sex in public restrooms, alleyways, backseats of cars, and all sorts of strange places. But I didn’t like the idea that Knox’s attic bedroom, where I currently sat with him, might also be the place he lost himself in other women.

“Relax, McKenna,” he whispered and smiled before sitting down across from me in an old leather armchair.

I released a silent exhale and handed him the notebook. “You left this.”

He took it from my hands, his thumb brushing mine and sending a small thrill up my arm. “Thanks.” He waited, silently watching me, like he knew if he just waited me out, I would explain what I was really doing here.

I took my time, looking around the room, from the gray sheets that were tangled on his bed to a little desk that sat in the corner, complete with a stack of unpaid bills. My unease about Knox, about his life obviously so very different from my own, ratcheted a little higher.

“Did you look inside?” he asked, looking down at the journal in his hands.

“No,” I blurted too quickly, my face flushing with heat. We both knew it was a hasty lie.

He untied the leather string fastened around the notebook and opened the pages to me, turning the book so I could see. He glanced up to watch my reaction, and I brought my hand to the open page, lightly tracing the shadows he’d captured so realistically under her wide eyes. She looked tired and so lifelike.

“You’re very talented,” I murmured. “She must be someone important to you.”

“My mother,” he confirmed.

I met his eyes and smiled. He clearly loved his mother to devote so many hours to sketching her likeness. He flipped through a few of the pages for me to see, and then set the book on the table between us. Again, he waited for me to fill the silence.

My curiosity was too much. “So, Bailee’s your…” I left him to fill in the blank.

“Neighbor’s daughter. We babysit her sometimes for Nikki while she works. Plus it’s probably good for her to have some male role models since her dad’s not in the picture.”

“Oh.”

Knox cracked a lopsided grin. “You thought she was mine?”

“I wasn’t sure. You seemed pretty comfortable with her.”

He shrugged. “I guess I am. I mean, I’m comfortable around kids. I have three younger brothers I helped raise. And Bailee’s here enough. She’s a pretty easy baby.”

“Except for that code green stuff?”

He shrugged. “It’s good for the guys to learn to change diapers and warm up bottles. It teaches them responsibility.”

“So you all live here…with your parents?” My voice rose on the question.

“Mom passed away seven years ago, and my dad took off with a waitress a few years after that. I have custody of the boys.”

“Oh.” Everything I thought I knew about Knox, the sex-addicted playboy, was lost in that instant. He was a man who worked hard and loved his family enough to step up and provide for them, putting his own dreams and goals aside. He was a real person, not just one of the bodies who filled a chair at my little group Saturday mornings. And now that I’d gotten a glimpse, I wanted to know more.

“So…” I looked around his room, my uncertainty about being here obvious. “This is your life.”

“This is it,” he confirmed. “Not what you expected?”

His raising his brothers and babysitting for a neighbor? No. Not at all. I glanced to his bedside table again, my eyes seeking the bottle of amber-colored liquor that sat there. I wondered what demons lurked just under the surface of his controlled demeanor. Why he needed the vices he did.

Perhaps we had more similarities than I realized. We were both on our own without our parents. Knox’s load of responsibility was heavier than mine, but my guilt over how I lost my parents might have made up for that deficit. We were each wise beyond our years, burdened with things at a young age. Maybe we recognized that in each other. Something to draw us together. Because I certainly felt drawn to him. More than anyone.

Annoyed, I gave myself a mental kick in the pants, forcing myself to remember I was here to help him, not to pry into every facet of his life.

“Why won’t you open up in group, Knox?” When he shrugged and made a non-committal noise in his throat, I pushed a little harder. “What are you afraid of?”

His gaze leapt to mine. “I’m not afraid. I’m just private. I don’t particularly want to air my dirty laundry in front of a bunch of strangers. Can you blame me?”

“That’s a very normal feeling. But most people find that once they cross that hurdle and open up, there’s a certain comfort in knowing there are others out there with the same struggles. You’re not alone, Knox. The first step is just admitting you have a problem.”

My little speech was met with silence while Knox looked deep in thought. “How about this…I’ll tell you some things that you want to know, if you’ll do the same.”

“You want to know about me?” I asked, surprise evident in my voice.

He shrugged. “Fair’s fair.”

If that would get him talking, I didn’t see any harm. “I’m game. Who starts?”

“I do.” Knox’s dark eyes searched mine, and I fought a little shiver that prickled the skin at the back of my neck. “How did you become a sex addict counselor? Do you have experience with addiction yourself?” Interest flickered in his gaze.

I chewed on my lip again. The story was nothing as dark or interesting as that. The truth was the grief counselor I began seeing in high school led me down this path.

“I went to school for counseling and after I graduated with my bachelor’s degree, I took a part-time position at a center for troubled teens here in the city. I had extra time, so I looked into what other opportunities I could get involved in, and I got linked up with this lady Belinda. She leads SAA and became my mentor. Then after a while of sitting in with her groups, I got my own group.”

Sheesh, I was rambling, but something about the intent way Knox watched me while I spoke, looking between my mouth and my eyes, left me distracted and warm. I drew a deep breath, trying to clear my head. Knox was still watching me, waiting for me to ask him something. It was my turn.

“So…” I drew out the word, buying time. I could go for the obvious, asking him how he ended up with this addiction, but something told me not to push him. I wanted him to open up and feel comfortable, so I couldn’t interrogate him from the start. I liked talking to him and I wasn’t ready for it to end. “Tell me about your brothers,” I said at last.

Knox leaned back into the armchair, crossing one ankle over his knee. Gosh, he was so big, so male, that it was impossible not to notice how completely he filled the small space between us. My pulse jumped and quickened in response.

“Tucker’s eight and in the third grade. He’s a good kid, listens to his teachers, and keeps his room clean.” He released a heavy sigh. “He has an amazing capacity for love. He was so little when we lost her and when Dad took off, that I think he’s the least affected by it.”

Listening to him talk made me wonder what the little boy had been through. I couldn’t imagine losing my mom at such a tender age, and then having to watch my dad run off and abandon the family. My heart ached for him.

“Luke is seventeen and he’s a junior. He’s smart. Like smart-smart. He wants to go to college and he studies hard so he can qualify for a scholarship when the time comes. And Jaxon…” He shook his head. “Jaxon is too much like I was. He’s eighteen and will graduate in the spring. I thought I’d feel relieved once he turned eighteen, knowing that he could ensure the boys didn’t get split up if something ever happened to me…”

He hesitated, and something in his eyes made me sad. I could see how much he worried about them.

“I’m sure he’d step up if he needed to,” he went on. “But for now, he has no plan of what to do when he graduates, no job, no money, and he chases after girls just like I did at that age.”

It surprised me how much Knox was sharing. As uncertain as I’d felt, I was glad I’d followed my instincts and came here today. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to. Not that I’d been thinking about my background in counseling a moment ago. I’d been thinking about his sad eyes, and the way my heart slammed into my ribs when he was near.

Knox grew quiet, like he’d said too much. His eyes slowly lifted to mine. “Your turn, angel.”

Knox

Something about seeing McKenna in my space was surreal. I couldn’t believe she was actually here, sitting in my bedroom. My messy-ass bedroom.

When she’d refused my offer for coffee, I’d seen the momentary indecision in her eyes. She’d wanted to say yes. But something had kept her from acting on it. So I’d left my notebook behind on the table, wondering if would propel her to find me. She had. And now she wanted me to spill my secrets, to psychoanalyze me. Too bad. I wasn’t opening up until she did the same. I didn’t know shit about this girl; I didn’t have to tell her anything. She wasn’t my court-appointed counselor. But if she took the first step, showed me I could trust her, I wasn’t opposed to talking. Something about her intrigued me.

And now, after just a few minutes, I was sitting here spilling my guts like a pussy. I needed to switch us to a lighter topic. She wanted to be let in, but I was pretty sure she’d hate me once she really knew all of it.

Her back was still ramrod straight and she totally looked out of place. It was adorable and struck something inside me. I wanted to see her pretty, unsure smile again. “Is your boyfriend going to be mad you came here?” I asked with the hint of a smile playing on my lips. Her denying that he was her boyfriend would definitely make the alpha male in me happy.

“Brian?” Her brows pulled together. “He’s just a friend.”

“No boyfriend then?”

She shook her head. “No. No boyfriend. What about you?”

“I prefer females. I thought we’d established that was my main problem.” Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. “And no, angel, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Knox,” she started, then stopped herself, chewing on her lower lip before continuing. “I’m sorry I’m here taking up your time, I just came to apologize for how I reacted today. I thought you were blowing off the group and trying to pick me up.”

That might have been my intention at the time, but now it was anything but. McKenna wasn’t like the girls I was used to. If I pressured her into going out with me, something told me I’d only push her away. And I wasn’t ready for that to happen.

“I was serious about being more comfortable talking one-on-one versus in a roomful of people.”

She nodded. “I get that. I’m sorry again. I figured it was a come-on.”

I shook my head. “Not my intention, angel.”

She frowned, like the idea that I wasn’t coming on to her was a slight disappointment. This girl just got more and more interesting the more time I spent with her. I shifted in the chair so I was leaning a little closer to McKenna. Her scent was light and crisp, with the warmth of vanilla and a hint of soap. Not too overpowering, but subtle and pleasant. Just like the girl herself.

The stairs creaked and I glanced over to see Tucker peeking around the corner to spy on us. I’d purposefully left my bedroom door open; I didn’t want any confusion over what was happening between me and McKenna.

“Would you like to stay for lunch?” I asked her. A healthy relationship with a female might be just the kind of normal thing my brothers needed to see from me. And after Jaxon’s wise-ass comment that Knox doesn’t have friends who are girls, I wanted to show them I did. Or at least I could.

McKenna met my eyes and nodded uncertainly. “Okay. That sounds…nice.”

“Cool. But you have to help me cook.”

She smiled warmly at me, a smile too nice and genuine for someone like me, and I felt a stab of regret about luring her into my world. Something in me wanted her, and that was very dangerous.

Downstairs, we found the guys rummaging through the cabinets and munching on handfuls of crackers and chips.

“McKenna’s staying for lunch.” I urged them to put the junk food away and motioned for McKenna to have a seat up on the counter while I gathered ingredients for spaghetti. It was a staple meal around here—inexpensive, easy, and filling. I piled a box of pasta, a jar of sauce, and a package of ground beef on the counter, then grabbed a skillet from the cabinet between McKenna’s legs. She gasped at the unexpected invasion and I rose to my feet, smiling innocently.

“So, how do you know Knox?” Luke asked, looking back and forth between the two of us.

As she paused, obviously struggling to answer his question. “I met her at group,” I interrupted, and she tossed me a grateful smile. I took the opportunity to study her again. Even I had to admit there was something about McKenna that seemed out of place in my life. She was wearing dark jeans that hugged her ass nicely, a white button-down shirt that looked really soft, and little diamond earrings. She looked sweet and wholesome.

Looking down at myself, I took in my worn jeans, a faded black T-shirt, and socks with a hole in the toe. My brothers were no better off. Most of their clothes were secondhand too. Not that we minded; we had what we needed. Something told me McKenna came from money, but I also had the sense she was more than okay slumming here with us. I just wished I knew why. Was she running from something in her life too?

After we ate, the guys headed outside to play basketball, and McKenna and I settled on the living room sofa together. She was different than I would have guessed—not at all stuck-up. She’d laughed and joked with my brothers while eating a big helping of my spaghetti, which was little more than overcooked noodles and runny tomato sauce, and then had helped with the dishes. And now she was sitting cross-legged on my couch looking delectable as fuck. The desire to kiss her shot through me like an arrow.

Knowing I couldn’t do a thing about it was a special kind of torture.

McKenna

“It’s getting dark,” Knox commented, looking toward the front windows.

Following his gaze, I noted the way the late-afternoon sun was sinking into the horizon, leaving the sky with an eerie glow. “Are you worried about the boys being out after dark?”

“No. They’ll be fine.” He was quiet for a moment, but still looked lost in his thoughts. “When night comes and everything is quiet…” He paused, reluctant to continue. I waited, holding my breath and hoping that he’d open up to me. “I realize it’s just me, with all this pressure riding on me, and I need someone. Some company to make me feel whole again.” He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands.

I didn’t like nighttime either, but I wanted to know more about what he meant. “Is that why you go out at night?” I ventured.

“I need that place where I become numb to the world and can forget everything for a little while,” he admitted, his gaze still fixed on the fading afternoon sun.

He was actually letting me in. Even if it was just a peek, seeing inside the mind of this man was like opening a window and sucking in a deep breath of fresh air. It was enlightening.

Nights were the hardest for me too. I wondered if that was part of the reason I found myself here, reluctant to go home. In the darkness, my guilt was its thickest. I lay in bed and thought about my parents, and the feelings of guilt and despair almost drowned me. But I’d never considered throwing myself at a man to make me forget. Volunteering was my escape. I lost myself in the servitude of others. I used their problems and misfortunes to remind myself that people out there had it worse. Perhaps Knox and I weren’t so different, after all. He just medicated himself in a very different way.

He turned back to face me, his dark gaze deep and penetrating. We watched each other for several heartbeats while delicious tension swirled between us. I wondered what had happened to lead him here. I knew he’d lost his mother, and his father had left, but how had he become this lust-filled version of himself?

Watching his sad eyes, I thought I understood what he was saying about the darkness. It was the same feeling that haunted me. I didn’t have bills and siblings to worry about, but my parents’ deaths had left a hole in my heart. I couldn’t stand to be alone with my grief, so I threw myself into work. Knox threw himself into the arms of women. We forced our pain away by chasing after distractions. Sleeping around was his version of my volunteering.

“Sorry, that was probably a weird thing to say.” He shook his head, as if trying to clear the thoughts.

I wanted to take his hand, but instead my hand came to a stop beside his, not quite touching, but sending my message all the same. He hadn’t pushed me away. And I wanted him to know I appreciated it, and that we shared more than he knew.

Turning to face me yet again, Knox’s voice dropped lower, taking on a serious tone. “Are you sure it was wise coming here? Hanging out with me alone?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

He swallowed, his lips moving in a distracting way. “I’m a sex addict.”

My heart sped up as his words ricocheted through me. “Should I be afraid of you?”

“I wouldn’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do some other things.”

“L-like what other things?” I unconsciously leaned closer, drawn forward by his magnetism.

Knox let out a low, throaty chuckle and leaned back against the couch, stared straight up at the ceiling, and let out a heavy exhale. “Oh, McKenna.” He patted my head like I was a naive little girl.

Maybe I was foolish and naive for coming here today, but I could handle myself. It wasn’t like I was at risk for falling for this man, was I?

The trio of boys burst in through the front door, ending our strained silence. I could tell that Knox was as pleased as I was at their timing. Knox scooted further away from me on the sofa to make room for the littlest, Tucker, and soon we were in an intense racing game on their Xbox. They all took turns beating me and laughing at the way my entire body moved as I tried to steer my race car.

I had stayed at Knox’s far longer than I’d intended, nearly five hours. The time had flown by, laughing and eating with him and his brothers. I hadn’t felt this relaxed and happy in a long time.

By the time darkness fell, it was pouring down rain outside. I was going to be soaked through by the time I made it home, but I had to suck it up. Somehow I knew calling Brian for a ride would be a bad idea. He’d never approve of my being at Knox’s.

Reluctantly, I stood up. “I guess I should get going.”

“All right.” Knox stood next to me and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you parked out front? I can walk you out.” Before I could answer, he grabbed an umbrella from a closet by the front door.

I slowly turned to face him. “No, I don’t have a car. I took the bus here.”

A crease appeared between Knox’s brows. “You took the city bus here?”

I nodded.

“Guys, I’ll be back soon,” he said, turning to address his brothers. “Come on, I’m driving you home. There’s no way I’m letting you ride the bus after dark.”

Letting me? He had a commanding way with words, but it had been a long time since I felt concern as genuine as Knox’s seemed to be. Even if it was unexpected, it was nice.

The interior of Knox’s Jeep smelled like him—sandalwood and warm leather. We rode the few miles to my apartment building while I pointed out the directions. I liked watching him drive. His long fingers curled around the wheel as his denim-covered thighs stretched out before him, drawing my eyes.

When Knox pulled to a stop outside the building, I wasn’t ready to go. Reading my hesitation, he turned to face me. “Should I walk you up? Make sure everything’s safe?”

“No, that’s okay. Brian’s home.” I pointed to the black sedan parked three spaces down.

“Brian’s that guy who came to your meeting to pick you up?”

I nodded.

“You live with him.”

It wasn’t a question, but I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. “Yes, but he’s just a friend, my roommate.”

“Are you fucking him?”

“N-no,” I choked out. Suddenly I felt hot and uncomfortable in the small, dark space with Knox, off-balance at the abrupt change in his tone. Why would he care if I was sleeping with Brian or not? “Do you have a date tonight?” I asked.

“I don’t date.”

I swallowed. “Fine. Will you be requiring company later?”

“Yes.” His dark gazed pierced mine, looking hungry and full of desire. “I can’t be expected to watch you parade around in your tight jeans all night and not need a release.”

It was the first time he’d mentioned that my physical appearance had an effect on him. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it. God, what was wrong with me? He needed help, not another girl throwing herself at him. Besides, I should feel disgusted; he had just admitted he was going out looking for sex after spending the evening with me.

“Good night, McKenna,” he said, his tone final and dismissive.

“Good night.” I climbed from the Jeep, sliding from the seat until both feet touched the ground. Without looking back I headed inside, the cool rain a balm against my warm, flushed face.