Page 31 of Up In Flames
“Your nickname is Bird?” he asks next, one brow raising.
“It is,” I confirm. “My whole family calls me Bird, except my brother, Damon, who doesn’t call me anything because we haven’t spoken in months.” I’m not sure why I tell Knox that. It just slipped out.
My phone dings again, and I pull it back to read the message.
Mom
Also, cute outfit, but please don’t make him uncomfortable, sweetheart.
I groan silently,having forgotten about the cameras that watch the pool deck. Seven months ago, my mother wouldneverhave said that to me. Seven months ago, she would have given me the compliment, and that would’ve been it. No demeaning statement or patronizing term of endearment.
Yeah, fuck you, Patrick.
“So, uh, how many siblings do you have? And why Bird?” Knox continues as he shovels chicken salad into his mouth.
Pushing my mother’s condescension out of my mind, I focus on the man in front of me. “They’ve called me Bird my whole life because once I could walk, my parents say I literally took off. I went everywhere, hating to be in the same place for too long. I thought the nickname would go away as I got older, but I sort of locked it in when I became a flight attendant and now literally take to the sky multiple days a week.” I pause to take a breath, then answer his other question. “And I have four siblings.”
Something akin to disappointment crosses his features, and I wonder what it was I said that he didn’t like. He takes his time choosing his next question, and this one I saw coming.
“And everyone’s fine with…” He doesn’t know how to finish his thought. I briefly think about letting him squirm because Ilike the color rising in his cheeks, but ultimately decide not to be a dick because I know this is hard for him, even if it’smysexuality he’s confronting. In a way, I guess he’s confronting his own as well.
“Fine with me? My style choices? The fact that I like guys? Paint my nails? Like clothes traditionally meant for women?” I pause, figuring out how to answer, because where I could’ve once saidyes,with no doubts, my mother’s last text makes it feel like that’s not the case anymore. But deciding now isn’t the time to talk about how messed up my headspace is, I tell the truth as it used to be. “Yeah, they’re fine with it because it’s just who I am. It’s not really any different than Francesca being into farmhouse décor, or Damon being a moody fuck, or Ashton picking up a different chick every night. I mean…it is, but it isn’t.” I’m rambling…realizing I’ve never had to explain myself to someone before.
Then again, I’ve never really wanted to. I’ve always just had the attitude that you can take me or leave me. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. They aren’t mine either, and that’s okay. But here with Knox, I want to try bridging the gap…for his sake.
“That came out messy,” I try again. “I just mean, everyone likes what they like, and to hell with whoever decided what was for boys and what was for girls, you know? No one judges my sister for having painted nails, so why does it matter if mine are painted, too? Who does it hurt, you know?”
He nods slowly. “It’s admirable,” Knox finally says.
“Thanks, but it shouldn’t be. It should just be living my life. It shouldn’t take an act of bravery to fuck who I want to fuck, wear what I want to wear, and live how I want to live.”
“It shouldn’t, but it does,” he says sadly. We eat in comfortable silence after that until I make my next point once we’ve both eaten everything on our plates.
“After building your own business and surviving your divorce, you’re plenty brave, Knox. Don’t you want to put that bravery to use finding what you truly want out of life?” I place my hand on his forearm. It’s meant to be encouraging, not pushy, but he stares at it like my touch is burning his skin.
“I wish it were that simple,” he says, causing me to pull my hand back. His denial is strong, and despite the reciprocal pull toward each other, I’m finally starting to believe this is a lost cause. I stand, grabbing both of our plates to bus the table, but before I can walk away, he halts my progress with words that change my mind. “I mean, Iwantto. I just wouldn’t even know where to start.”
I canfeelhow hard that was for him to admit, so I refrain from touching him right now, even though I want nothing more than to wrap myself around his big, strong body and comfort him, giving him everything he needs. When Knox peers up at me, the war within him is getting easier to read, but the more obvious emotion is the lust in his eyes…just like before in the kitchen and against his truck.
I can’t imagine what it would take to undo a lifetime of schemas in order to set yourself free enough to pursue what you truly wanted.
It’s heartbreaking, and it strengthens my resolve.
I set the plates down gently and try to convey my genuine desire for this. Forhim.I’m actually a little startled to realize itisa genuine desire. What began as a well-intentioned effort to fill my time while being stuck here is morphing into a true desire to help him through this.
“Start with me,” I suggest.
As soon as my hand lands on him a second time—because I’m no longer strong enough to stay away—he closes his eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath like it’s the first time he’s been able to draw a deep breath in a while. Like something about mytouch has finally allowed his head to break the surface and he’s come up for air.
“What can it hurt?” I ask quietly. “Let me be what you need in this moment.”
Chapter 13
Knox
I’ve gone from trying to avoid Taylor and our interactions to using him and this conversation as a way to help distract me from what’s still waiting for me on my phone.
I really need to pick a lane.
