Tipping The Scales: Knox (Mate Craze)(25)
Two shaves and a haircut pounded into my door.
“Who is it?” I called out as I finger-combed my hair. I was so turning into that girl and for Knox, it didn’t feel wrong.
“It’s me?” My heart sunk as Rhi’s voice came through the door. So much of me wanted it to be Knox, which is stupid and girly and messed up, but there it was. “Can I come in?”
“It’s your room, too.” I flopped back, no longer caring about my flyaway hair or anything but the unreturned message sitting on my screen.
“Yeah.” The doorknob turned and in bounced Rhi with a backpack far too full for survival training. It was a wonder she could walk with all of that crap in her bag. What, was she carrying her entire suitcase with her? “But I saw his truck, so I was hoping you were getting some bow chicka wow wow.”
Leave it Rhi to bring it straight to the sex.
“Really?” I teased, glancing back at the screen and hoping I missed a notification sometime in the past ten seconds.
“A girl can dream.” Her bag fell to the floor with a thump as she crawled across her bed until she propped her head up on her hands looking me straight in the eye. Her face was glowing in an odd way, as if my getting some somehow got her some too. Did she think his brother was single, because Knox mentioned a soon to be niece or nephew the first night, so he was off limits. Rhi might talk the talk, but she would never take someone who was married. “You’re his, after all.” She shrugged off, the starry-eyed gaze even more pronounced.
“His?” Was she kidding? I stole his truck. Twice. I was so not his. “I’m not his.” That pronouncement hurt to speak. It was true, I wasn’t, yet so much of me longed to be, like some freakazoid stalker.
“I mean,” she pulled herself to sit, looking almost nervous, “you have liked him for a long time.” She never once met my eyes as she spoke the words. Rhi was acting all kinds of not herself. Part of me wondered if she had smoked something while out in the wilderness. I could totally see her doing something like that out of shear boredom. We were so different in so very many ways.
“Seeing a guy and thinking he’s hot does not make you theirs.” Although part of me felt that he was mine. I planned to leave that little truth nugget to myself. Rhi did not need encouragement. “If so, you would belong to all the guys you tell me about.”
“Truth.” She was quick to agree. Almost too quick, but I’d take it. Today had had enough conflict already. “So, do tell. Does he kiss with teeth and passion or is he a slobbering fool?”
“You jumped from stolen truck in the parking lot to kissing? Those do not connect, and how did you know it was his truck?” My blush had to be giving me away. I could feel my face burning and I yawned deeply to conceal it, or so I hoped.
“I must’ve seen it that night at the diner.” I counted in my head until she fully understood what I had just told her. 1... 2… 3… 4… “Wait? Stolen?” And there it was. “Who are you and what have you done with my bestie?”
“We got in a fight and I took his truck. No big deal.” I tried to sound all badass and failed miserably. Even I could hear the disappointment in us having fought. Heck, I could barely remember what we discussed. The only thing crystal clear in my memory was that kiss. That mind boggling, heat building, butterfly breeding, why the heck did I break away kiss.
“Or a conviction for grand theft auto. Potato, potahto.”
“No conviction.” I shook my head at her smirk. She knew me well enough to know that actual theft wasn’t in me. “He technically offered it as my out if I didn’t want to feel trapped at his home.”
“You went to his home? His house?” Why that surprised her was beyond me. I might not live a wild life, but prude didn’t describe me either, and it wasn’t like there were a lot of choices in town. “You totally lost your V card, didn’t you?”
“You went from stolen truck to V card?” Rhi had all sorts of theories on my virginal status and I became skilled in avoiding the topic, not that it stopped her from prying any chance she got. “Those things do not connect.”
“Sometimes you just feel the draw.” She was now twirling her hair, something she often teased me about doing, wearing that stupid starry eyed look again. Rhi was acting so bizarrely. Normally, she would’ve gone straight to asking about his hand size and making connections that were far from appropriate.
“Or sometimes you date first.” Glancing at my phone again, I flipped it over, not wanting to face the disappointment again. At least now I needed to make a real effort to see he hadn’t responded.
“So did you? Feel the draw?” Something was off about the way she said draw. I had, of course, but how did she know that and when did it become more important to her than the deed. Maybe she saw something I missed at dinner when I did my awesome debut as bathroom hider? Part of me wanted to ask her, but the chicken inside of me didn’t want to see what can of worms that would open. Give her an inch and Rhi always took a mile.
“Rhi.” I used my best stern lawyer voice and found myself reaching for my dragon statue.
I rubbed my thumb down the little dragon’s spine, seeking its comfort. Knox made him; I still hadn’t completely wrapped my head around it. Of all the things I could have impulsively bought, I go and find something he made with his own two hands. What’s more, it gave me a feeling of comfort. I tried to not think too hard about the implications of that realization.