To the Stars Page 72

Knox placed a soft kiss where he’d bitten down, then moved his head to whisper in my ear. “To the stars, Low.”

I exhaled slowly and smiled as I ran my fingers through his hair. To some, it might not mean much. But to us, those words meant more than just “I love you.”

When Knox did pull away, he kept his body touching mine as long as he could by sliding down and kissing my lower stomach and the top of one of my thighs before reluctantly moving away from me and off the bed. He ducked into what I assumed was his bathroom, and after a minute, came back with a warm, damp washcloth, then proceeded to kiss me slowly, tenderly, as he helped me clean up.

The look on his face before he left again was clear, and I’m sure mirrored my own. He didn’t want to leave this bed for the rest of the day, but we had a lot we had to figure out and deal with. So when he walked back to the bathroom, I climbed off the bed and grabbed the bag of clothes Deacon and Graham had bought last night.

I’d half-expected the clothes to be for someone five sizes bigger than me, just because it was something they would’ve done in the past—but I was surprised when they ended up fitting me better than most of my clothes did now. They’d even bought a new scarf to cover the bruises on my throat.

Knox was walking back into the room by the time I was dressed and headed toward the bathroom—since the guys had been gracious enough to also grab toiletries for me—and hooked an arm around my waist to kiss me softly.

“No matter what happens when we walk out of this room, we’re going to spend the next fifty years waking up next to each other. Just remember that. All right?”

I smiled and nodded. “Why not sixty?”

Knox’s dark eyes danced. “For you, I’ll make sure it’s sixty.”

I hurried into the bathroom when he released me; when I came back out I found him dressed and waiting for me on the edge of the bed, with a guarded look on his face.

He nodded toward the door. “Your mother hens came to check on you.” Knox looked like he didn’t know what to say, and shrugged. “They’re good guys, Harlow, the best . . . but I know they’ve never shown you that side of them. I don’t expect you to ever forgive them; they already know I don’t. Even though they are acting weird and taking this new thing to an extreme level of protecting you and taking care of you, I can promise you it’s genuine. You don’t have to be worried about them. I think they’ve always only thought of you as a liar, and now that they know you aren’t, and know a sliver of what you’ve been through, they will protect you as much as I would.”

He must have noticed the skeptical look in my eyes.

“Do you remember my sister, Sara?” When I nodded, he continued. “I don’t know if I ever talked to you about how often she was bullied in school.”

“Because she’s gay?”

Knox grunted in confirmation and said, “Deacon and Graham were always right there with me, defending her like she was their sister. Then Grey . . . she’s been through a lot of bad shit since you turned eighteen. A lot. But you know none of us see her as just Graham’s sister; she’s our sister. And through all those times, Deacon and Graham were the most loyal and protective brothers those girls could have.”

My eyes moved to the closed bedroom door. In a way, I could see it. Not just because of last night, but because they’d seen me as a threat to Knox . . . their “brother,” and they’d done everything they could to make sure that threat went away.

“Graham and Deacon know that I would walk away from our friendship for you, and—”

“I don’t want that,” I said quickly, and looked back at him. “I’ve never wanted that.”

“I know. But they didn’t give me a lot of other options with the way they’d treated you, and our relationship.” When I started to speak again, Knox stood from the bed and lifted his hand to stop me. “Let me finish. They know I would walk, so if it ever got to that point again, I would leave with you and never once regret my decision. But with how they are, I don’t see that happening. They know you’re mine, but being mine means you get them, too. They will treat you how they treat Grey and Sara. They will be protective and loyal to a fault, and right now you’re in danger, so they’re going to be a little overwhelming. But—and I’m not trying to ask you to forget what they’ve done in the past—if you can be open to starting over, they will be the greatest guys to have in your life. And I know that if anything hap—” Knox cut off and looked away for a minute. When he spoke again, he still wouldn’t hold my gaze. “If something happens so that I can’t be the one to take care of you, they’ll do it for me.”

“Knox,” I whispered, and shook my head. “What are you—you said you weren’t going to do anything!”

“I don’t plan to,” he said carefully, and finally looked back at me. “But if it comes down to it, I will do whatever I have to in order to keep you safe, and away from him. No matter what that means.”

“You just promised me sixty years,” I said when he pulled me into his chest.

He didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was tight. “I plan to keep that promise.”

But I knew what he wasn’t saying. That it might not be possible. And with Collin waiting for us somewhere outside this house . . . I knew Knox was right.

Chapter 21

Harlow

Present Day—Thatch

GRAHAM AND DEACON were sitting at the kitchen table when we finally left the room and went to search for them, and both of them shot up out of their chairs when they saw us walking toward them.

“Hey, right,” Graham said, and his eyes dropped to the table where there were more to-go boxes.

“Clothes fit,” Deacon observed, then cleared his throat. “I mean, do the clothes fit?”

“We bought breakfast,” Graham said before I could answer Deacon’s question, and my eyes widened when he continued. “Are you hungry? You should probably eat, we got a lot of food, take whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t get eggs!” Deacon blurted. “No eggs, so you don’t have to—” Graham shoved his arm, and Deacon looked worried, like I might break down right there in their kitchen. “Um, so how’s your head? We should probably look at the cut,” Deacon mumbled as his eyes locked on my forehead.

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