Knock Love Out (A Sensual New Adult Crossover Romance) (23 page)

“Yeah, I could see why you’d want to move the fuck out, Honey-girl. Wherever you’re going, can I come too?”

Georgia turns to us, one final swipe of her mock-paw to her nose.

“
Mew
.”

***

“Honey-girl?” I step inside of my bedroom. “Lilla?”

She steps out of the bathroom as I sit on the bed. My eyes unable to look away. Black hem of her dress hitting just above the knee. Matching shoes. A messy bun with one of my pencils stuck through the middle, holding it in place.

“Blessed be the day Honey-girl walked out of my bathroom.”

Problem:

Her eyes don’t match her sad smile. Her clothing is going somewhere that won’t make her feel as good as she looks. My pencil won’t be able to comfort her in my absence.

Problem.

“Sit with me for a minute?” I pat the space beside me. Lilla scoots onto the mattress and I take her hand, kissing slowly at each finger, happy when I don’t see the gold.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she says softly. “Sorry I have to leave.”

“Are you scared?”

“A little,” Lilla admits, fidgeting with her dress. “But I think it’ll be okay.”

I turn her face towards me. “How do we feel about thinking?”

She smiles. “Pure sin.”

“We know it will be fine. Why is that?”

Lilla’s grin widens. She’s bracing for something—trying not to laugh. My inner twelve-year-old is tapping his toes impatiently. He wants the goods.

“We’re from the motherfucking seven-seven-two, Cash.”

“To say I love you would be an insult.”

“I’d like to hear it anyway.”

I ignore those words, for now. I had plans for that. My hands reach for her foot, pulling it up, making her lean on her elbows.

“When you come back to me, I’m going to put my mouth here.” I press once to the bottom of her foot. “And then here.” Knee. “And then here.” Higher. “Here.” Higher. “Here.” Hip. “Here, here, here.”

“For the love of mercy, I cannot walk into mediation with a swollen vagina, Cash. Please.”

I smile against her thigh, rubbing my scratchy face against the softness of her skin.

“Is that what I’m doing?” Innocence—fuck no. I can’t even fake that shit.

Honey knows.

“Pretty sure distraction was the title of that tale.”

Lilla moves, causing me to move and this is it.

Problem:

“I’ll see you later.”

I lay on my bed, watching as she reaches for her purse and a handful of papers. My pencil stuck in her hair. She stole my pencil. My pencil.

Rolling over I stare at the ceiling, not wanting to watch her leave. Walk away. Go where she’s headed.

“Who loves you?”

I just want her voice telling me—me. Me.

“You.”

But Lilla needs someone to not be Adam. Not be a selfish person. I’ll take one for her. I’ll be that guy.

My head lolls to the side, just as she reaches the door.

“Lilla …” She turns. I hold her with my eyes. I try to make it sound as true and strong as three words could possibly be.

PART THIRTEEN

LILLA KING

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I don’t want to think about mediation. I don’t want to recall Adam’s stare or the things he said. Promised. The way he grabbed my arm in the hallway and begged me on his knees to listen. I don’t want to remember the hate in my heart when he called me names or accused. I don’t want him to be anywhere near me when I walk through Cash’s door.

I don’t want my safe place tainted.

I don’t want my happiness unraveled.

I want to find Cash and make up stupid nicknames. I want to snuggle close and hear him speak nonsense of my toes. I want to be the sky. I want to be a weird beautiful color.

I want him to pluck the pencil from my hair and draw something.

Anything. Always.

I tug the key he gave me from my bag, shoving it in the door, but pause when I hear music playing loudly. My ear leans towards the sound, pushing the door slowly as I enter.

Oh, Sky Wizard, bless you, sir.

It’s official. Cash is my Personal Jesus.

I always feel like, somebody’s watching meeeeeee.

His feet moonwalk. His hips go this way and that way and he does not know I am here. He is lost in a sea of Rockwell and Michael Jackson. It is eighty-four and I wonder if he has a red leather jacket and a sparkly glove.

Wrong song, I know, but still I wonder.

How could I not?

I don’t need to know if he has a pair of sunglasses in his imaginary land.

He has them on in real life.

A huge pair and oh lord, he’s jumping on the couch. Off the couch. On. Off. On. Off. There goes his hips again.

Fist pumping.

Cash is fist pumping.

I have to curl my fingers and press them to my mouth.

Shit, my movement gave me away. He jumps—not on the couch—but more like, like a scared little girl.

“That …” He taps his finger at me, trying to laugh it off, but he is caught red-handed. Red-faced. He laughs, clearing the embarrassment from his throat. “That is not right, Lilla.”

“I think it is called karma and I am in love with her so hard.”

“I was only doing it to make you laugh. I knew you were coming home. Really.”

I take a step towards him.

“Does Mariah know you’re cheating on her with Michael?”

He falls onto the couch, still breathing hard from his dancing.

“If you had shown up five minutes ago, you would have seen my love for Mariah is still in full force.”

“I’m going to pray that means you were dancing to her music, C-Child.”

He grins, patting the couch.

I take a seat. “At least you had on the appropriate song for the situation.”

His hand cups over my mouth and he pushes me into the cushions, on my back. I pull the sunglasses off his face and toss them aside.

“Your make-up is all smudged. How hard do I have to beat Adam in his face?”

I roll my face into the pillow. I need to hide.

“It was brutal. I never want to do that ever, ever again.”

“Wanna lick on some Schweddy Balls and tell me about it, Honey-girl?”

I peek out from the pillow. “I pray you are talking dirty ice cream to me.”

“My balls aren’t Schweddy. I’m in great shape.” He hops up from the couch, making noise in the kitchen.

I kick off my heels and pull the pencil from my hair, tossing it to the coffee table. Cash has a collection of papers sitting aside. I pick one of them and glance over it, my heart singing at every detail.

He sits on the couch, taking off the lid to the pint of ice cream.

I want the inside of his head and nothing else. I want to know what all these swipes mean. Equal. What the sum of their parts are. Why he needs to create them.

I want a mind that thinks beyond everyday things. I want a conversation that isn’t tainted by resentment and hurt. Light-hearted boy. Light eyes. Great smile. Warm lap. Good hugs. Kind smile. Loves Alfredo. Home.

The paper is set back on the pile. I lean forward, tucking my legs beneath me so I can reach him. Eyes on eyes, I don’t look away. My hands cup around his, holding onto the pint. My tongue digs slowly through the top of the ice cream, a clean swipe pulled into my mouth.

Cash doesn’t speak. He simply tosses the silver spoon over his shoulder, an impressed grin gracing his features. I just wanted it one more time.

“Well goddamn.”

I smile and take another lick, inserting my finger into my mouth, pulling away and offering it to him.

“I think you should have mediation every day, Honey-girl.” His lips surround my finger, pulling away slowly.

I move to his lap, placing my head on his shoulder. Eyes closed and something about this kid—his arms holding me—makes my mouth talk. Like it’s safe. I’m safe.

“What would you do if you could do anything in the world, right now, Cash?”

“Simple. You.”

“Think bigger.”

“Impossible.”

I laugh sadly, keeping my eyes closed. “Aside from me, what would you want to do right now?”

“Right now?” he asks. I nod. “I’d like to go swimming with a dolphin.”

Exactly what I want him to say. Something foolish. Something unpredictable. Something so far removed from the past.

“I love beluga whales. Killer whales scare the crap out of me though.”

His head leans to mine. “I’m petrified of killer whales. Jesus Christ. I think it’s the eyes.”

“I love turtles, though. Turtles are amazing. I’d let a car hit me if it meant I could save one from getting run over.”

Cash sweeps his fingers through my hair.

“Why would a turtle be in the road, Honey-girl?”

“It happens. They get lost just like people. They get picked up and put somewhere they don’t belong until a nice person comes along and puts them back in the water. Shows them which way is home.”

“I’d pick you up and put you back in the water, Lilla. I would. Promise.”

My eyes squeeze close. No more tears for today. Not here. Not in my safe happy Cash place. No.

“You already have.”

He’s quiet. The music changes to something sad. Slow. Fitting. I just lie on him and breathe. I am allowed to be a selfish person and steal his time. I’m allowed to be a girl who needs a moment.

“Ugliest animal of all time?” He proposes. “Vulture. For fucks sake—they wait around waiting for something to die. They eat dead rotten things. I look at a vulture and I see the Grim Reaper’s children. I think he kills just to feed them. Bastards. Death-eating fuckers.”

“It’s the circle,” I murmur. “It’s just the circle of life. Someone dies, someone lives. Something ends, something begins. Your dad’s store will end and a new chapter will start for someone else. My marriage is over and we have each other. Adam will have someone new. He’ll be happy. I’ll be happy. Death is just part of life. The circle.”

“I still think vultures are vile, Honey-girl. I understand what you’re saying, though.” His fingers scratch along my head, lips pressing into my shoulder.

I allow myself to be greedy for a few more minutes, pressing myself to him. Taking all I can. Rocked like a child.

Softly, “Adam said I could keep the building.”

The rocking stops.

Nervous. Apprehension. “W-why would he do that?”

I pull away and swallow. There isn’t a depth deep enough to push this feeling into. His thumb touches my face when I can’t get the words to obey my brain.

“
Lilla
?”

“I know your father said it wouldn’t work as a grocery store, but I just couldn’t sit there and watch him smile and take something that was only of value because I fell in love with you. Because it hurt you. It belongs to your family. You could make it an art studio. A gallery. A school. You’re so talented. You could do—be—anything. Anything at all.”

He closes his eyes. “
Lilla
.”

I press my head to his. “You said love was unselfish. This is how
I
love you. This is how
I
know how.”

He cups my face, his palms flushed with the fever of his heart being broken.

“There’s nothing I want more than you. Why can’t girls just get over the stupid shit from their childhoods and recognize what’s real? This is real. I’m a big fucking kid, yeah. I make stupid goddamn jokes and curse too much. I know it. But this is real, Lilla. This isn’t a fucking joke to me. Feel—” He presses my hand to his chest. “Feel. That is real. Feel.”

“This isn’t about you being a kid. And I know—” I take his hand from my face and mimic his action, placing his over my heart. “I know.”

“You’re goddamn insane, Lilla. You’re goddamn serious—aren’t you?”

“I love you.”

“You don’t know shit about love. Adam tortured you for how many years and you run back. I pour my heart at your feet and you kick it. You don’t know shit about love. I couldn’t draw you a picture clear enough. Metaphoric or otherwise.”

I slide from his lap.

I want to leave with beauty. I want to leave with an unselfish heart. I want the last words exchanged to be truth. I want soft green eyes and cocky.

A tug on the door and I order my feet to do it. I order my voice to say it. I dig in my bag and find the keys to the end. I set them on the table.

“Bye, Cash.”

His eyes stare at the keys. I wait for ten seconds, but he doesn’t move or speak. Slowly I close the door, exhaling into the quiet nothing.

Two feet walking solo for the first time in a long time. Where they are headed—I’m not so sure.

But they aren’t running. There’s no rearview mirror in this plan. Maybe it sounds cheesy—but I’m just walking to myself.

Adam doesn’t want me—he just doesn’t want me with him.

I don’t want Adam—I just want Cash to live.

I don’t want to be the anchor around his feet. I want to be the sky. I want to be the colorful weird name. I want him to reach the heights he is capable of.

I know how it feels to be held in place. I know what it is like to dream without sleep.

He deserves this kind of love.

The kind of love I never understood.

Until now.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Melanie Lockhart’s house. 2:30 pm. Table. Plans.

Lilla:
A black sweater. His hair is swept neatly to the side. Odd. Beautiful. I swear his eyes are greener today than normal. Is this my punishment? Is this my karma for being a cheater? Breaking vows?

Cash
: Vanilla and toasted marshmallows. I accidentally touch her foot under the table. My legs quickly tuck under my chair, crisscrossed safely at the ankle.