Knock Love Out (A Sensual New Adult Crossover Romance) (10 page)

“You gotta see this.”

I groan, tugging at the front of my hair. “If Mary’s ass is around the corner, I’m going to broadcast on YouTube the security tape of you drunk, fucking a tub of Rocky Road in the walk-in cooler from last summer. Understand?”

He nods encouragingly, walking at my side as we round the corner. I’m too used to him pulling a prank, distrust deep within the roots of our relationship when it comes to things like this. A small peek around the corner and my eyes have a hard time believing I had anything called a bad day, today.

His hand pats my back. “
Not
Mary, man.”

Honey-girl’s velvet golden legs dangle as she sits on the hood of my car. My car. Palms flat against the black paint. Head dipped down, bored as shit as she waits. Waits. Her bag of groceries she bought is by the car’s tire. Waits. The cool nighttime breeze ruffles her hair, gently.

Waits.

“I’m not helping you with trash, Heath.”

His laughter fades in the distance as I walk quickly—too quickly—towards her. Too quickly to be cool about it. Too quickly to be nonchalant and a dick, acting like it doesn’t/wouldn’t/shouldn’t matter that she’s here.

That she waited.

Waited.

Just to fucking be sure, “Are you having car trouble?”

The golden warmth from her skin mimics her smile.

“No,” she whispers, plucking something from her pocket. A white piece of well-folded paper. “I am having airplane trouble.”

PART THREE

LILLA KING

Chapter Twelve

I’m running from death.

The giggles cover over the burning sensations in my ribs. My side. A sharp pinch that would normally have me stopping, but Cash is chasing me through the park, threatening my life.

“Lilla, this is not funny. Put down the Mariah doll, and no one gets hurt.”

I hold her perfect-plastic-self high in the air, pushing myself to the brink as I surge forth, using every ounce of strength I have to make it to the lake.

“What was that?” I place Mariah to my ear. “You want to go swimming?”

“Lilla!” He places his fist to his mouth, groaning in frustration.

I dangle her stupid plastic body over the edge, but I’m not going to toss her. She did nothing to deserve death. The little doll is flung at him, landing at his feet. He swipes her from the grass and shoves her into his back pocket head first.

“You’re suffocating her.”

“The safest place for all beautiful women is in my pants. I assure you.”

“Her boobs aren’t even real, Cash. Or her nose.”

“Now I’m confused. Are you talking about the doll or the real Mariah?”

“Could go either way, honestly.”

“I really don’t mind fake tits, even though, I’d rather have a set of small perky tits over a set of enormous fake tits, any day.” He plops down into the grass, sighing.

“I think you just crushed her.”

He lays back, eyes on me. “I was only chasing you because you’re adorable when you run. Your arms flailing. That high pitched squeal when I almost caught you. Most amusing thing I’ve seen since … well …
you know
.”

“Shut up.”

I sit beside him and he curls around, lifting me to straddle his hips. My hands lay flat on his firm chest. His hands massage patterns on my thighs. Eyes watching my face as he slips his thumbs under the fabric of my shorts. It’s innocent, but not. He stays in a safe place, but it’s not. My ring tells me so.

“I can’t believe you snooped through my shit while I was making you food.”

“
I
can’t believe
you
have a Mariah Carey Barbie doll.”

“I won’t apologize for it. Only an insecure man would feel like a pussy for having a doll. No shame here.”

I grin, leaning towards him a little. “Does Heath know you have a Mariah Carey doll?”

“Your mouth needs silencing, Honey-girl.”

I laugh, falling against his lips, kissing what was supposed to be a quick peck, but lips on lips have other plans.

“Mm.” Cash cups my face in one hand, pulling back to look at me. “You taste like a campfire at age seven.”

“What?” I sputter a laugh. “Campfire?”

“How the memory tastes. How it feels to remember it.”

“You have weird thoughts, little boy.”

“Nothing
little
about me. Let’s run to the beach, Lil.”

I laugh as he pulls us to our feet.

“How do you go from kissing to wanting to run two miles?”

“I told you,” he grabs my hand. “My brain is different.”

***

I gulp from the water jug like my life depends on it. Standing in front of the fridge. Water dribbling down my chin, clothes. I only come up for air, than take another long drink.

“Something wrong with you?”

I turn with my lips still wrapped around the mouth of the jug. A shake of my head and I have to pull away for another breath.

“It’s called working hard.”

Adam snorts. “Do you know how to do that?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Jesus, Lilla. It was a joke. Lighten up. And since when do you use words like that?”

“Since
now
.” I toss the jug of water back into the fridge, not giving a crap where it lands and slam the door before anything can tumble out.

“Used to be a time when you knew what a joke was, Lilla.”

“Used to be a time when it wasn’t my whole existence, too.”

I hear him sigh as I raid the pantry for something to eat, my stomach starving after running all morning with Cash. We have been running every day for the last few weeks, up and down the beach.

Hands that haven’t touched my hips for months are suddenly doing just that. I recoil, not sure what to do.

“What? Now I can’t touch you?”

“It’s just …” You don’t. Ever. Someone else has. Does. Better. I look to the floor. “I …”

“You’re different, Lilla. I’d be an idiot not to notice.”

Actually, you are just that. An idiot. Oblivious. You didn’t even notice another man’s teeth marking my skin. The paint I couldn’t get out of my hair. Where I go every morning.

He touches my chin, lifting my face. It’s all wrong. Alien and chilling. A place inside of me calling out for Cash, wishing he could tell him not to do that. That it isn’t his place.

It is exactly his place.

“Shit, I know I’m not here a lot, but I just want to give us a good life. I want you to be happy.”

I used to be.

We used to be.

A house full of shiny and nothing gleams. Nothing.

“For what it’s worth, Lil, you look really pretty, today.” He places a soft kiss on my cheek, something like what my grandfather would have done.

And if this was Cash, that sentence would have been followed by
every day
. Not that he would’ve needed to say anything at all—the picture is quite clear on his face. Little gestures. Paper airplanes.

Little paper airplanes.

***

“Give me hell, baby.”

Cash checks the basketball to me.

“I’ll have you know, I was an amazing athlete in my youth,
Warren
.” I pull the hat from his head and turn it backwards on my own head.

“I didn’t know The Great Depression era had good luck charms, Lilla.” He makes a face at the long white socks pulled up to my knees.

“Handsome
and
funny. Such a combo.” I check the ball back to him.

“More handsome than Adam?” He dribbles the ball, grinning.

“Stalling, Cash?”

The ball keeps bouncing. Not backing down.

“You’re not the same. I like your eyes, if that makes you happy.”

A ball hits me in the back of the shoulder from another court. Two guys come jogging over. Cash scoops up their ball.

“Watch where you’re shooting that shit.” He hands it back over, pressing it firmly against the guy’s chest. “You hit my … friend.”

“Friend, huh?” The guy looks at me. “Good looking friend.”

Cash points. “
Walk
.”

***

“Come on,
Grandma
. Get it past the hand. The hand is all in your face. All in your face. I bet you have on underwear the size of Texas. Don’t you,
Grandma
?”

I giggle, dribbling past him as he grabs hold, winding his arms around me.

“Foul! Damn foul! This is against all the rules, Warren!”

I can’t stop laughing.

“You looked as though you might collapse of old age. I thought you needed saving.”

“Bullshit. You knew I was going to make the shot and win. You cheated. Dick.”

“For an old lady, you sure do have stamina.” He pants.

“You know what else?” I wriggle out of his hold, going for the easy layup. “
Game
.”

I go running around the court, arms raised in glorious victory. Cash collapses onto the ground and I stand over him, hands on my hips.

“Maybe you could fold up one of those little airplanes and ride it home, loser.” I kick his side and he tugs me down to him.

“I let you win.”

“You got your ass handed to you.”

“I would like some ass handed to me. That’d be quite nice, actually.”

“I don’t do losers.”

“And yet you’re married to Adam.”

“Be nice. And … like I said.”

His eyes widen. “How long?”

“I think I saw the ice cream truck over there.” I climb off of him and start walking towards the parking lot. His feet follow behind.

 “Just give me a number.”

 “Five.”

“The number of days it has been since you were last with Adam. In a bed. Naked. Having sex. There, I think I covered it all.”

“I don’t know. A while.”

“Not a number, Lilla.”

“I think I’m going to get one of those Mickey Mouse bars. Do they still make those?”

Cash steps around me, blocking my path.

“Can you be serious for two seconds, Lil?”

My hands slap against my legs. “I told you I don’t know. Why does it matter? Can’t we just enjoy our day and not talk about this crap?”

“Is that what you want?” he asks.

“Of course. Why would I want to talk to you about Adam?”

“No, I mean … I mean is that all you want from me, Lilla?”

“I don’t understand.”

“That would make two of us. I don’t know what you’re looking for with me. From me. If all you want is to have fun, that’s fine. I can do that. But let’s draw the line in the sand, right now. What are we?”

“I thought you were against complicating uncomplicated things or thinking about stuff?”

He sighs in frustration. “That would be the whole point for defining … this.” He motions between us. “Whatever
this
is.”

“You’re Cash. I’m Lilla. It’s quite simple.”

“Yet, you’re hell-bent on making it difficult.”

“What do you
think
we are, Cash? I’m
married
.”

He steps towards me, tugging his hat from my head. I push my messy hair aside and watch as he slides it on, pausing for a moment before he turns around.

He’s walking away.

I’m standing here like an idiot.

Alone.

***

“Have you been working out?” Adam’s voice causes me to jump, not having heard him enter the kitchen. I stir the tomato sauce as it bubbles, lowering the temperature.

“No.” I lie.

“You look different. Tan. More … you. Just … better.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

His cell phone rings. “Forget I said anything, Lilla. I’m late, anyhow.”

Always are. Always do. Wasn’t thinking about you anyway. I compile two containers, filling one with fresh pasta and homemade tomato basil sauce—the other container gets a hefty scoop of tiramisu.

Am I kissing ass? Yeah. Maybe just a little bit.

As soon as Adam is gone, I pack up my car with the food. Make sure I look halfway decent. It’s probably the longest drive of my life. His black car sits unoccupied.

He’s working another double.

I hope Cash doesn’t hold grudges like his dad seems to.

I think I’m going to vomit as I walk towards the doors, my nerves scattered and buzzing high. Don’t even know why I’m so nervous. Possible rejection? Possibly.

The cool air feels good as I walk inside. I pray I don’t pass out and wander in, seeing him sitting on the back of the register area, where the groceries gather before bagging. Mary is talking to him, but he isn’t paying her attention. He’s looking forward, looking at the wall behind the service desk.

I take a couple steps.

Warren’s head turns, spotting me. No smile. No nothing. Blank. Nothing in that book to read. My feet stop. A line in the sand. One side or the other. I choose to meet in the middle.

Resting the paper bag on to the floor, filled with things no one else would appreciate. I take a step back.

Then another. And another.

I don’t dare look back once I’m out the door. I don’t wait for him and I don’t think about it for the rest of the night.

PART FOUR

WARREN CASH VALENTINE

Chapter Thirteen

I only believed it was possible.

While everyone around me laughed, ripping my dreams from my sights, I simply closed my eyes and chose to avoid the picture they described. The number one reason why your dreams die before they are born, is because you allow other people to pull the trigger.