Page 75 of The Perfect Spiral
“He never moved from that spot. Not once,” Sam whispers, careful not to disturb their slumber. I can’t tear my eyes awayfrom him. His hair is a tousled mess, and it appears he’s shirtless, his discarded shirt lying beside him.
“You should talk to him. He feels bad.”
I nod, my gaze still fixed on him. Guilt washes over me as I consider the discomfort he must have endured, staying there all night. I scoot across the floor until I’m hovering over him.
I can’t help but let my eyes wander over his bare chest. Shaking off the distraction, I poke his cheek lightly. He doesn’t stir. He must be in a deep sleep.
I poke him again, harder this time. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. He’s so cu—
“Knox?” I whisper, continuing to poke his cheek. He opens one eye, looking at me before rolling over, not fully registering my presence.
Suddenly, his eyes snap open and he sits up. “Baby doll?” He struggles to free himself from the sleeping bag. I nod at him.
His arms reach out, cupping my face and pulling me close until I’m practically lying on top of him. He kisses the side of my head, wrapping his arms around me protectively. I freeze, wide-eyed at his actions, unsure of how to respond.
“I’m sorry, Alex. I’m really sorry. I feel like an ass,” he begins. I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and lean back just as the others begin to stir.
I glance around at the bodies slowly coming to life around my doorway. “Can I talk to you in my room?” I ask him. He stands up quicker than I thought possible, extending a hand to help me up.
I scramble out of his touch, turning to see Sam smirking at me. Rolling my eyes, I lead the way into my room, Knox followingclose behind.
I hold the door open for him, locking it behind us. “I overreacted, yes—”
“Alex, you have every right to be pissed at me. I stood there and watched it all happen. The girls, the paparazzi... they were hounding you, and I just stood there when I should’ve spoken up.”
“Knox, it’s fine. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. With everything that happened with Drew... I’m just a little more... sensitive. And for all I know, I could be getting my period soon, so that doesn’t help.”
“Uh, TMI, baby doll, TMI!” He scrunches his nose at me. Maybe I should’ve kept that to myself.
“Sorry. Look, I’m just going to stay out of your way. I don’t feel like dealing with the wrath of every girl in the country right now. But I do pity the next girlfriend you have,” I joke, sitting next to him on my bed.
I pull my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on top and wrapping my arms around my legs. I need to protect myself. I need time to myself.
“Alex, I’m sorry about what happened, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. Please don’t distance yourself from me. I... I can’t... you’re my baby doll,” he sighs, looking at me.
I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. It’s better if we keep our distance, like old times. It’ll be better for him. He sighs when he sees I’m not wearing his jersey.
“Knox, listen, it’s going to be better for both of us if we maintain some distance. Your popularity and fan base will rebound, and all of this will be forgotten. The media will back off from both of us.”
“Alex, I couldn’t care less about my popularity! I won’t let this happen again. I’m not going to—”
“Knox, please. This lifestyle isn’t for me. I’m constantly being mobbed by your female fans. I’m tired of defending myself against them. It’s too much, and I can’t keep relying on Andy and Wes to bail me out.”
“I’ll hire bodyguards then. I’ll protect you, Alex. Please, don’t do this, baby doll.”
I finally turn to face him, his eyes are glossy, on the brink of tears. The look he’s giving me is too much to bear.
Why does he want me to stick around? He doesn’t even like me, does he?
“I don’t need bodyguards, Knox. I just need everything to go back to the way it was. I think it’s best if we keep our distance. The media frenzy, the fan girls—it’s all too much. You might be used to it, or the girls you date might be, but I’m not. It’s not for me.”
He stands up and crouches down, his hands resting on either side of my waist. His eyes search mine, as if he’s looking for something.
We stay like that for a few moments. He rests his forehead on my legs, seemingly trying to control his breathing.
Why does this feel like a breakup? My heart aches from this conversation. But I had to say it. It’s been too hard to ignore or deny anymore.
“And I’m sorry about what happened yesterday morning downstairs. I got carried away, it shouldn’t have happened,” I say, trying to convince myself more than him.
