Broken Knight (All Saints High Book 2)

I spent the cab drive from Charlotte to Boon drinking mini bottles of whatever the fuck alcohol I could find at the airport and popping a couple Xanax pills. The fake ID, paired with the fact I was running on zero sleep, made me look way older than eighteen. Unfortunately, I was past the stage where a few shots of Johnny made a difference. I was on edge. Agitated. Rubbing my knuckles back and forth against my jaw. I’d busted them open last night punching the treehouse tree trunk. Just for old times’ sake.

“You good?” The driver shifted in his seat, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“Fine,” I clipped, tapping an unlit joint on my muscular thigh.

You know you have a problem when, before you meet the driver waiting for you at the airport, you meet a local drug dealer to get a fresh stash.

There was a brief silence as we zipped past green rolling hills, the backdrop of a cloudless blue sky and Charlotte’s towers twinkling in the distance. So this was the place that stole Moonshine from me. Already I hated it.

When the driver pulled up at Boon, I slapped a few bills in his hand and wheeled my suitcase down the cobblestone path. A red-bricked, Colonial building the size of a hotel stood before me, framed with lush, trimmed lawns from both sides. A herd of church-mice-looking girls in matching pastel cardigans and ironed hair poured from the double doors of the college. They stopped and eyed me curiously, exchanging looks and hugging their textbooks to their chests.

“Can I help you?” One of them cleared her throat, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Was it that obvious I wasn’t cut out for higher education? Maybe because I smelled like a liquor store and a dodgy one-night stand.

“Can you?” I flashed my lazy, lopsided smirk that put women in a spell even I couldn’t fully understand.

Their frowns liquefied in an instant.

“I’m looking for the dorms.”

“Men’s or women’s?”

I stared at her blandly. “They’re not coed?”

“It’s a Catholic college.” The revelation was followed by a headshake.

“Women’s,” I clipped.

Shit just got a whole lot more complicated, as shit tended to where my life was concerned.

The girl pointed at a sign with white wooden arrows directing visitors to different sections of the campus. Her fingernails were colorless, thoroughly chewed. “You take a right and walk until you see the building with the pink flag.”

“How misogynist.” I bit down a smile, wondering how Luna had felt about that.

She hated wearing anything pink or girly, the exact opposite of Daria.

The girl flushed, drawing circles on the ground with her toes. “Thank you for saying that.”

“Huh?”

“Thanks for knowing it’s kind of offensive. Beautiful men…I mean, handsome men like yourself are…” she started, but her friends jerked her away, giggling and heading toward the cafeteria.

Are what?

Say, it sweetheart. I could use a little ego boost before I come face to face with Luna.

When I got to the lobby of the girls’ dorm, there was a man about two thousand years old behind the front desk, with a Ron Weasley-orange toupee, flipping a local newspaper that lay flat in front of him. His brows were high as he read a fascinating article about the fish prices in Asheville.

“Wrong dorm,” he said without looking up from his paper.

Instead of gracing him with a response, I dropped my designer backpack on his desk with a thud, fishing my wallet from my back pocket, plucking a few bills, and throwing them his way like confetti.

He didn’t look up from the paper. “Do you understand English?” he grumbled.

“Only when it suits me. What’s your price?”

“Why must there be a price tag on rules? Why can’t we just follow them blindly?” He licked the tip of his index finger, flicking a page.

An impatient smirk tugged at my lips. He was still staring at his paper.

“Because humans are corrupt, and rules are boring.”

“Speak for yourself, young man.”

With an exasperated sigh, I took out a few more Benjamins, boomeranging them across his desk. There was maybe a couple grand in total covering the surface before he finally looked up.

“What’s her name?”

“Rexroth. Luna Rexroth.”

“And your intentions?”

Entirely sinister.

“She’s my girlfriend,” I lied, unblinking. “I came to visit her from California. I want to surprise her in her room.”

I could see his gaze drifting to the row of spare keys under his counter. I didn’t dare breathe.

Do it, old man.

He didn’t budge. I took my wallet out and emptied it on his desk, the remainder of my cash raining in front of his eyes. I didn’t break eye contact.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” he asked.

“Do you know her?”

“Yes.”

Casually, I unlocked my phone and threw it into his hands. My screensaver was a picture of me hugging her and kissing her cheek while she smiled into the camera. It was pretty obvious we knew each other and liked each other. He lifted his bushy, white eyebrows, examining the picture before handing my phone back to me.

Finally, he lowered himself to the wall of keys, searching for her name.

“I’ll need you to leave your ID here.”

I slid my driver’s license over the counter.

“No spending the night on the premises. No loitering. Straight to room 601. And if I see you getting anywhere near girls who are not her, I’m calling the cops.”

“I need one more favor,” I said.

He looked up at me, Luna’s room key dangling between his meaty fingers.

“Namely, one more set of keys…and a lemon.”

Luna

If you’re ready to fall

Please do it with me

Ten o’clock. Water tower. Is where I will be.

—Broken Knight

I’d found the note under my pillow—where I kept the book I was reading that week—like a tooth, forgotten by the tooth fairy. A wish. A promise. Knight knew I’d lift the pillow, because he knew me. Knew us.

Knight was at Boon.

At my college.

In my dorm.

He wanted me to meet him at the water tower.

He was away from his mother.

His friends.

His school.

Away from his Poppy.

That alone should’ve made me run into his arms. I’d made a promise to Rosie. But only after she wasn’t here anymore. I didn’t have to put my heart on the line just yet. I wanted my heart to be free a little longer.

Before I moved to Boon, I used to organize my time in accordance with Knight’s life. When it was football season, I’d crammed activities into my schedule to make time move faster. I’d volunteered more, taken longer bike rides, and read entire fantasy series back to back. When he was free, I dropped said activities in favor of being with him—even when he’d flirted with other girls, when the rumors about his lothario ways had cut me open and made me bleed green with jealousy.

When I’d left for Boon, I’d needed to fill my life with distractions. I had done so by mimicking life as I saw it worn by other people. To my surprise, I was a pretty good actress—a miserable one without Knight, but decent nonetheless.

I munched on the straw of my fruity cocktail, my legs folded as I sat in the nightclub next to April, Josh, and Ryan. I flipped my phone to watch for the time.

Ten minutes to ten.

I couldn’t make it in time even if I wanted to. Good.

The music pounded so loudly, it felt like it was coming from inside my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to remove the vision of Knight waiting for me on the top of the water tower, in the cold.

It felt a little redundant not to use real words with my friends, now that I spoke them to Knight, Edie, and Dad, but I was still thankful to have people in my life who liked the old me. This was where I belonged. With my new, genuine friends I’d made on my own, not because our parents were best friends.

I checked my phone again.

Eight to ten.

It took about twenty minutes to get to the water tower by foot. Probably ten with my bike, which I didn’t have with me. What was he doing here, anyway? There was only one way to find out, and I wasn’t dumb enough to risk crumbling in front of him and opening my legs again.

Josh and Ryan stood up to get us more drinks. April leaned forward and slapped my knee, scowling.

“That’s it,” she whisper-shouted over the music. “I’m staging a one-person intervention. You’re the most awful datee ever.”

“Datee?” I spelled out each letter. April was pretty good at making up words.

“Person you date.” April rolled her eyes and exhaled, sending a lock of her colorful hair flying.

“It’s not a date,” I signed.

Josh and April had presented this outing as hanging out. Since there was nothing romantic about strangers grinding against each other on a dance floor, I’d believed them. Plus, I didn’t want to stay in the dorm in case Knight showed up. I still hadn’t told April he was here, but I figured tonight, I’d have to come clean about plenty of things to my roommate.

April was so understanding, she didn’t even care that I’d lied to her about my relationship with Knight and told her he used to be my boyfriend.

“Come on, dude.” April patted my thigh.

I was wearing ripped boyfriend jeans and a hoodie, a stark contrast to my friend’s purple mini-dress.

“The guy is legit in love with you. If you’re not going to let him screw your brains out again, at least have the decency to tell him now.”

“I did,” I signed. In the letter I gave Josh, I’d explained I just wanted to be friends.

“Well, then stop dangling yourself in front of him like a shiny prize. He had a taste once, and now I’m sure he wants a rerun.” April barked out a good-natured laugh.

Suddenly, I remembered something very important—I’d never told April I slept with Josh. My jaw dropped.

“Had a taste?” I arched an eyebrow.

The only people who knew about Josh and me were my family, as Knight had so generously offered the information at Thanksgiving dinner, and Josh and me.

April waved her hand, laughing more awkwardly now. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, it’s not?”

“Guys talk.”

“Last time I checked, you’re not a guy.”

“Well, Ryan is, and I’m his girlfriend, so he told me. It’s not like the entire school knows. Or cares. Just a few of our friends. Jesus, Luna, you’re not five. You think your alcoholic, scumbag crush who’s screwing someone else to get back at you is better than Josh?”

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that.” I slammed my empty drink on the table.

I understood fully that April was on my side, but I hated that she spoke badly of Knight without really understanding where he came from or what he was going through.

“Why not? He wasn’t even your boyfriend. You’d never protect Josh like this, and he’s been nothing but nice to you.”

“I don’t want nice.” I narrowed my eyes at her.

Really, what I’d meant to say was I didn’t want anyone who wasn’t Knight.

I flipped my phone again mid-argument. Ten past ten. My heart hiccupped.

“Of course not.” She gave me a sarcastic smile, leaning back in the leather booth. “He doesn’t treat you like shit, and therefore, is an awful candidate as a boyfriend.”

“Knight doesn’t treat me like shit.”

“You’re right. That would imply that he is treating you at all, wouldn’t it?”

Her words stung so much, I physically coiled.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because.” She took a deep breath. “You’re hurting yourself, and you need to open your eyes and see the situation for what it is. You will always be poor Saint Luna because you insist on taking the mutt over and over again.”

“He’s no mutt. Stop saying that.”

“He screwed another girl.”

“He had every right.”

He did. I realized it now.

April ran her gaze over me, her eyes sad and disappointed.

Twenty past ten.

April was trying to help me—but that didn’t make her right. I’d portrayed Knight as the villain, when really, he was a misunderstood prince. I hadn’t agreed with all of his decisions, but he didn’t want to hurt me. Not truly. He wanted to stop hurting, and he sometimes ran over people in the process.

I darted up, helplessly searching the bar with my eyes. Josh and Ryan were leaning against it, laughing between themselves. Ryan said something that made Josh shake his head, pretending to finger-shoot his temple. I felt my fury rising from my toes to my head.

I looked back to April, smiling now, mustering every ounce of self-control I had in me.

“You know,” I spoke, my voice dark and smoky, coming from the depths of my soul.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, her cocktail glass—blue liquid, like the tips of her hair—slipping from between her fingers and crashing on the floor.

“I take full responsibility for everything that happened this entire semester. The whole Knight debacle. The thing with Josh. I didn’t handle it well, did I?”

I could see the confusion flashing in her face as it reddened, her pupils dilating like ink.

“But don’t assume you know the entire story from where you’re standing. I have so much to explain to you—if you’re willing to listen—but know this, April: You’ve helped me. Helped me in ways I could never repay you for. Thank you.”

“What the fuck, Luna?!” April’s eyes glistened as she stood.

Wordlessly, she slapped me across the face. I felt the burn crawling from my cheek to my neck, spreading, pinking my ears with embarrassment she couldn’t see because of the tan hue of my skin and the dim light of the club.

I lifted my head and stared at her. Every muscle in her face was shaking. Her expression told me I revolted her. In truth, I repulsed myself, too. She thought I was a liar now, and she had every right to feel embarrassed and betrayed.

I should’ve told her the truth—all of it.

I should’ve stood up for myself long ago.

I should’ve been more stern with Josh when he ignored my rejections.

I shouldn’t have accepted Knight’s half-hearted fumbles while he was with another girl.

I was worth more. I deserved more.

“Good luck getting yourself out of this one.” She looked hurt more than anything else, and I knew she had every right to be.

A firm tap on my shoulder made me turn around. I don’t know why I expected to see Knight. There was no reason for him to be here, other than the fact that, true to his name, he had the tendency to save my day.

It was Josh. His dark eyes were like two globes of misery, the weight of all the heartbreak in the world seemingly dimming his light. Seeing him hurt felt like a punch straight to the gut.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “It’s not that I spoke before this…” I licked my lips, looking around helplessly.

God, he didn’t deserve it. Any of this. How difficult was it to not-break a heart? I’d always been so mad at Knight for doing this to me. Maybe he hadn’t meant to, either. Maybe hearts were like carefully tended flowers. Sometimes they just wilted, no matter what you did.

Josh took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. His hands trembled as he signed to me.

“You talk,” he said.

I nodded. I felt ashamed talking to him. Not that it was bad. Not that my breakthrough didn’t make me proud. But the fact that I’d hidden it from all of them for so long… I’d hidden a lot of things from my friends, and it was payback time.

“Since when?” he motioned, too stunned to show any negative or positive emotion.

“Since…a few weeks ago.”

He shook his head, without saying anything.

“How?” he asked.

I was about to lose the boy I loved, so I threw my fears and phobias off a cliff, was what I would have said, but I knew my honesty would rip him to shreds.

“Family crisis,” I answered.

The tears blinded me. Somehow, I could still see the melted figures of my friends through them, looking like clouds through a rain-stained window. April stood next to Ryan, and now they both faced me. Josh was starting to retreat, walking backward out of the club, out of my life.

Then he stopped. Smiled. It looked genuine. I could tell, even in the darkness of the club.

“Good for you.”

I couldn’t even form a response.

“I wish I’d known earlier.”

I didn’t know if he meant about loving Knight, or about my talking.

“I lost the ability to speak freely when I was a baby,” I tried to explain to them, even though they looked more hurt about my lashing out at April and hiding a secret from them than anything else. “It’s not like I ever spoke in public or…”

I stopped, clamping my mouth shut on the lie. I’d spoken at the New Year’s party Daria dragged me to. I was changing. I could no longer afford the comfort of being quiet and different. People were done cutting me slack.

I squeezed my eyes shut to rid myself of the tears so I could see Josh better. He signed again.

“You should go back to Knight. To California.”

He wasn’t mean. He was truthful. He knew it was something in California that had caused my breakthrough. Or so he thought. But if I hadn’t known them—April, Ryan, and Josh—I would never have stood up to Knight. Maybe I wouldn’t have had my breakthrough. Who knows.

“I never meant to hurt you,” I told him.

“I know.”

“I don’t want anything to change,” I almost begged.

April was the one to answer.

“Luna, we always wanted you to win. We just didn’t know we weren’t on your team.”

Before I slipped out of the club, Ryan clutched my arm in a bruising grip.

“We thought you were different, not just another rich, spoiled, holier-than-thou Todos Santos bitch. Turns out, you’re exactly like the stigma. Self-absorbed, beautiful, and a liar. It’s over for you, Rexroth. Boon’s over for you.”

“Ryan!” April jerked him away, pushing him back.

“Ryan’s wrong about you, but not about Boon. Go to Knight,” Josh signed. “You’re his. You belong there. With him.”

He was right.

He was right, and Knight was here. At Boon.

I planted a soft kiss on Josh’s cheek, then my legs carried me outside on autopilot. I tumbled over a stair, righted myself against the wall, and lurched forward, like there was an invisible line, pulling me.

I didn’t want to waste any time calling an Uber. I started for the water tower, tears stinging my eyes.

I was going to tell Knight I wanted everything.

Every single drop of him. No Poppy. No Arabella. No clingy girls he threw crumbs of attention to. I wanted to devour every single bite of the Knight Cole cake, and I wasn’t going to settle for less.

The water tower was across Boon’s football field. I jogged through the dewy grass, flinging myself over the tower’s ladder, not even bothering to check the time. How late was I? An hour? Probably more. Maybe he wasn’t even here anymore.

With every trembling move of my feet, my hands choking the cold, rusty metal bars, I became more aware of the abyss beneath me. The water tower was three stories tall. I could fall. But instead of fear, I was filled with determination.

No, this was like the treehouse.

That’s what we did.

We met high. In the sky.

Above everything.

And everyone.

I climbed up with careful precision and slid through the white metal bannisters surrounding the water tank. The surface beneath me was all rusty metal, cold and damp. I flung myself over the railing, out of breath. Panting. I closed my eyes, too chicken to see if he was still here. Silence cocooned me. I exhaled a shaky breath.

Please be here.

But then I felt our invisible rope, loose around my neck, and knew, without even opening my eyes. He was no longer tugging.

“Remember this game?” Knight’s husky, gritty voice boomed in the air.

My eyes snapped open. The planes of his deity-like face registered, and, like all the other times I’d seen him, my heart flipped in my chest, nosediving to my stomach like an Olympic diver.

He was sitting with his long legs crossed, a lemon cut in half between us. I looked down at it, realization sinking in. I smiled.

“Fair warning: I practiced all day.” Knight grinned, his eyes raking up my body until they met mine.

I tried to swallow the ball of excitement in my throat. He was so beautiful. And so here. I wanted to ask him a thousand questions: Why was he here? When had he landed? When was he going back? What about Poppy?

But all I could do was shrug.

“I have a good track record of winning. What are we betting on?”

We used to play this all the time when we were kids. There was always a bet involved. He’d always let me win—a mischievous smile playing on his lips as I shoved the victory in his face. He was going to let me win this one, too.

Knight stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“If you win, I promise to leave you alone,” he said gravely, holding my gaze, letting his words sink in.

“And if I lose?” I croaked, ignoring the pain dull in my chest.

“If you lose…” A boyish, devastating grin found his pink, full lips, making my knees stutter, bones hitting bones. “I fuck you.”

Lethal silence. I didn’t know what to say. That’s what he’d come here for? To screw me?

Distress, anger, and lust warred inside me. I opened my mouth, choosing my next words carefully, reminding myself this was Knight. That he had a special flair for self-destruction, and when he felt wounded, he fought back. I reminded myself that Knight always let me win this game, despite his poker face.

“Are you still with Poppy?” I asked.

“No.” His eyes didn’t waver from mine.

I let out a shaky breath. “No?”

He shook his head slowly.

“She finally dumped you,” I tested the waters.

He gave me an exasperated look. “Sure. That’s what happened.”

“If we sleep together, will you tell people?”

His facial muscles didn’t move an inch. “Not even gonna answer that question.”

For all his foul play, Knight wasn’t like Josh. He never kissed and told people about it. Never confirmed his Casanova status. And, until mere weeks ago, he had remained a virgin. For me.

“I would like to negotiate the terms of my win.” I cleared my throat.

“I’m listening.”

“If I win…” I bit my lower lip. It was impossible to say this without sounding patronizing. “If I win, you stop drinking and start attending AA meetings.”

He didn’t even blink. “I agree to your terms.”

“I’m not some prize,” I added, scoffing as an afterthought.

“You are to me,” he said frankly, his tone void of emotion.

“And I’m not a whore.”

“I’m well aware. I’m not buying you, Luna. I’m merely making a point.”

“What is the point?”

“That once you’re with me, you won’t be able to touch anyone else. Want anyone else. Feel for anyone else.”

I already know that, you fool.

I took a deep breath, leaning forward and snatching one half of the lemon. It was cut precisely in the middle. He always played fair. Knight took his lemon. Our eyes met, and we shared an identical beam.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this. A quiet, tiny part of me wanted to lose, but my competitive streak wouldn’t let me. And Knight would protect me by losing, anyway. Not to mention, he’d make love to me if I asked him to, bet lost or won.

“Whoever flinches first, loses. Ready?” He tapped my nose.

“Ready.”

We bit into our lemons at the same time. The bitter, sour juices exploded in my mouth, making my eyes water, but I schooled my facial expression as best I could, my eyes roaming Knight’s face as he nonchalantly took bite after bite of the lemon’s flesh, his eyes dead on mine, as if he were eating an apple.

I took another tentative bite from the lemon, panic trickling into my gut along with the sour tang of the fruit. He should start making a face right about now. He always made a face. Then he’d secretly eat the entire thing, unflinching, after I did my victory dance.

Knight took another bite, his entire demeanor teetering on the verge of indifference.

What was he doing? Why wasn’t he wincing? The rule was, if neither of us recoiled, whoever ate the lemon more quickly and thoroughly won. Knight had only won one time, when he’d wanted to take me to prom and I’d insisted I didn’t want to go. He’d cared so much about giving me this high school experience that he hadn’t allowed me to win. This, I was beginning to understand, was his second strike.

I was officially in trouble.

On my third bite, I began to gag. My tongue burned. I felt my brows furrowing.

I flinched.

Crap, I lost.

The lemon rolled from between my fingers, knocking Knight’s knee. He picked it up and threw it over the side of the water tower gate, into the abyss, offering me his hand. I took it, realizing I was shaking. My whole body trembled with adrenaline, anticipation, and the winter chill. He yanked me to sit in his lap, cupping one of my cheeks and looking into my eyes. The tension between us made my insides liquefy. Drowning in his gorgeous aquamarine eyes, I struggled to breathe.

“You didn’t let me win,” I whimpered, understanding for the first time the consequences, and what was about to happen.

We never backed down from bets. We always followed through when the other person challenged us.

“Why didn’t you let me win?”

“You’re equal to me—not the same Moonshine who left Todos Santos.” His warm, lemony breath tickled my cheek as he lowered his face to mine. “But whoever you are, I will crack you, too.”

His mouth slanted on mine, and our bodies molded into one. I deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue between his lips and letting our tongues play together, flicking his piercing and feeling his primal groan vibrate from his stomach and into mine. We kissed like starved, angry animals, with a passion that burned the sky above us.

His hand slid into my hoodie, cupped one of my breasts, and pinched my nipple. I moaned into his mouth. He did it again. The third time he did it, instead of releasing the pressure, he flipped my hoodie up and sucked my nipple into his mouth, keeping his eyes on mine as he grazed his straight teeth over it. I shuddered so violently, I thought I’d come from that simple touch alone.

It was freezing outside, but I was scorching hot, my blood rioting at an unnatural temperature. I let my head drop back, my entire body following suit, as I lay down, fumbling out of my jeans, kicking them off. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to have him inside me. He chuckled at my eagerness.

“A bet is a bet,” I muttered.

Knight slid his index fingers to the sides of my underwear and took them off. I flushed even more, not knowing it to be possible.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I panted.

“Because,” he paused, swallowing, “I want to remember the moment you officially became mine.”

I was so dazed, I hadn’t even noticed he was naked at this point. Completely naked and fully sheathed. He must’ve put the condom on while kissing me into my mini-climax. I’d been rocking back and forth, chasing his touch.

His tan, strong body was like crushed silk wrapped over steel as we lay down on the rusty metal. Soft, light curls peppered his chest, and I ran my fingers through them, mesmerized. He took my wrist and lowered my hand to his penis, wrapping my fingers around the shaft.

“You’re mine,” he stated. “Always fucking have been, Luna. Say it.”

“I’ve only ever been yours, Knight.”

“The last year didn’t happen,” he choked on his words.

I nodded at first, accepting the denial. But then I stopped. I didn’t want to acknowledge some parts of it, either. But it had happened. It had happened, and yet we’d somehow still ended up here together.

“It did happen, though.”

“I know.”

With that, he eased into me, slowly, kissing my nose, my cheeks, my lips, my forehead. Even though I was wet and ready for him, it still hurt a little at first, but then he stopped, letting me stretch around his girth, before he began to make sweet, agonizing love to me. He moved in and out of me like he was giving me something so much greater than an orgasm. Slid into me to mark me. Agonizing, liquid heat began to gather under my navel, and my thighs trembled around his waist.

“Oh, Knight.” I ran my fingers through his hair. Why had I fought this all this time? Why had I rejected his advances when he was everything I ever wanted?

“I…I…”

I’m going to come so hard the entire state is going to know.

He shut me up with a dirty kiss full of tongue and stubble. He didn’t, I realized, want this connection we had diluted by words. We’d never needed words. Our relationship thrived, even when I’d given him no words at all.

This was really happening. I was having sex with Knight.

Knight Jameson Cole: Quarterback. Prom King. The best looking jackass in town.

But also, Knight Jameson Cole: Closeted alcoholic. Adopted son. Gentle soul. And the most pure-hearted man I’d ever known.

I started panting hard, burying my fingernails in the muscles of his shoulders. I knew I was going to scream, and there was no way to stop it. The orgasm was just too much. Too strong. Too full of emotions.

“Come for me, Moonshine. Come all over my cock.”

I exploded, shattering between his arms, seeing stars in different colors and sizes and shapes, at the exact same time he jerked into me one last time, emptying inside me. My cry pierced the air surrounding the water tower.

After that, we just lay there, him still on top of me, slowly softening inside of me. We breathed each other, the scent of sex intoxicating both of us into heavy-lidded smirks.

“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing the tip of my nose, looking skittish all of a sudden—almost endearing. “For a perfect first time.”

I smiled sadly. “You don’t have to pretend, Knight. I appreciate you sparing my feelings, but I saw you with Poppy. I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” he said flatly.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “But I saw… I came to the treehouse and…”

“Figured as much. I couldn’t go through with it.” He pulled out of me slowly, rolling away from me and gathering me in his arms. The chill began to pool around us, like a blanket, frosting our bodies. We shivered against one another. “I couldn’t let both of us waste our first time.”

“But how do you know mine was a waste?” I asked honestly.

Knight chewed on his tongue piercing, looking elsewhere. I realized it still hurt him. That it always would.

“The morning after I snuck into your room, I saw the letter you wrote to FUCKING JOSH. I didn’t open it. Just held it toward the sun so I could read whatever I could get from it. You said you loved him. After I left, I spent all this time dissecting what you said, and I realized you never told him you’re in love with him. You choose words so carefully and intelligently, Luna. I knew this wasn’t a mistake. You understand the meaning of words. That’s why you don’t use them lightly. That meant I still had a chance. And I figured, I’m losing my mom. I’m not ready to lose my best friend, too. I’m not going down without a fight, Luna. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. If it’s friendship—so be it.”

“I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” I said, pulling away to catch his gaze.

His face hardened, his lips thinning in pain. Only this time, the invincible mask didn’t harden around his face, like clay. I could see the full range of his emotions. Hurt. Terror. Anger. Annoyance.

My beautiful best friend. From whom I kept a secret. A secret about his mother.

You’re going to hell for this, Luna.

“I see.” He frowned, trying not to sulk. “That’s cool.”

But it wasn’t cool. We were never just cool. When we were together—we were blazing hot.

“I want to be your girlfriend.”