“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.”