Page 46 of Devoted
“Do you want to talk about what happened before you got here?” I feel the air grow heavy in the room after I ask.
His shoulders move with a deep breath. “I was frightened, and my first thought was to come see you,” he admits. Turning his head, he peers over his shoulder to look at me. I don’t need the mirror; I canfeelhis eyes skim over my barely clothed body. All I’m wearing is a thin top and cheeky underwear.
“Are you still… frightened?” I ask, taking my time to close the drawers I rummaged through. My curiosity is clawing at me to make this man open up, but I know pushing him isn’t the way to go.
“Vivian, I always am.” Still sitting on the bed, he dips his head to watch as his fingers fiddle with the raccoon blanket. “But I promise to work through it, I just ask that you don’t tire of me while I try to become the man you deserve.” He meets my eyes through the mirror for a second, but I break contact by turning on my heel to face him.
Holding the shirt in my arms, I grasp onto it when I ask, “This isn’t casual anymore, is it?”
“Truth be told, I don’t think I ever wanted it to be,” he reveals.
“Yeah, me neither.” I bite my lip to contain a smile. At least we’re on the same page with that. I’m not sure what it means going forward, but we’ll be going forward together.
“Good,” he replies with a nod. The slight tug of his lips is small, a tight smile forming despite his short reply. In a quick move, he strips himself of the dirty shirt, and I’m left trembling at what I see.
“Your tattoo,” I gasp lightly, kneeling onto my bed slowly. This is the first time I’ve seen it clearly and up close. The only other time I saw it was in the dim light of Knight’s room as we were falling asleep. “Can I touch it, please?”
He remains silent for a few seconds and stays facing the wall. It’s like he’s calculating the risk or trying to talk himself in or out of it, I don’t know. I sit on my heels, staying a good distance away from him just in case he decides he doesn’t want me to touch him.
Large hands tense and release my sheets several times before I hear him say, “You can.” His hushed tone doesn’t take away from the gravity of the situation, of what he’s permitted me to do.
I shuffle closer, already taking note of the littering of scars I felt the other day. They weren’t so visible last time, but now they sit raised beneath the dark ink that covers them.
Keeping my strokes light, I first trace over the thick, structural lines of the castle, where most of the scars lie. With each one I feel, I bend down to press kisses onto them. With my tongue, I follow the delicate lines of ivy and other vines that surround the fortress.
Knight’s body quakes, his breathing becoming uneven as he reaches a hand over to grasp my knee for support.
If you would have asked me at the end of summer, I never thought I’d see Knight as anything more than my handsome as fuck boss. But he’s become so much more. The businessman with the Gothic castle tattooed onto his back, who knows all my favorite things and argues with me to no end… I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it all.
The man who carries all this pain.
“Will you tell me what happened?” I ask, resting my head on his shoulder once I’ve had my fill.
“I will,” he swallows, reaching over his shoulder to place his hand over mine near the top of his back. “Not now, darling. But, soon.” Squeezing my hand and pulling, he turns his head to press his lips to the tips of my fingers.
“I’d like to get dressed now.” He stands, leaning over the bed to reach the T-shirt I have for him. Not a second after he’s got it on, there’s a single loud knock on my bedroom door.
We both jump at the sound, startled out of our tender moment.
“Vivian?” Ezekiel’s voice carries through the door.
“Why is my cousin here?” Knight asks in a whisper as he rushes to get his shirt on.
“I don’t know!” I scramble to get some pants on. I don’t think Ezekiel would be cool with seeing all that, or with discovering Knight in my room. He’d probably ask a million questions that I don’t know how to answer right now.
Another knock. “Are you awake?”
Without suggesting it, Knight is already moving toward the window and struggling to unlatch the lock.
“So you can break in through the window, but you can’t open it up?” I whisper-shout, walking over to the door.
“Give me a sec, Ezekiel!” I actually shout this time.
Knight rolls his eyes at me, groaning when he finally opens it up from its stuck position. Once he’s sitting, straddled on theledge of the first-floor window, I blow him a kiss that he catches and places on his heart before falling dramatically out of the window.
I must have opened the door a second too early because Ezekiel stands on the other side, his eyes narrowed and head tilted in confusion as he looks at me questioningly.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but I require your assistance in a bit of an emergency,” the professor explains. As if he can’t help himself, his eyes look over my shoulder to the open window. “Did I hear a disturbance?”
