“So you all live here…with your parents?” My voice rose on the question.

“Mom passed away seven years ago, and my dad took off with a waitress a few years after that. I have custody of the boys.”

“Oh.” Everything I thought I knew about Knox, the sex-addicted playboy, was lost in that instant. He was a man who worked hard and loved his family enough to step up and provide for them, putting his own dreams and goals aside. He was a real person, not just one of the bodies who filled a chair at my little group Saturday mornings. And now that I’d gotten a glimpse, I wanted to know more.

“So…” I looked around his room, my uncertainty about being here obvious. “This is your life.”

“This is it,” he confirmed. “Not what you expected?”

His raising his brothers and babysitting for a neighbor? No. Not at all. I glanced to his bedside table again, my eyes seeking the bottle of amber-colored liquor that sat there. I wondered what demons lurked just under the surface of his controlled demeanor. Why he needed the vices he did.

Perhaps we had more similarities than I realized. We were both on our own without our parents. Knox’s load of responsibility was heavier than mine, but my guilt over how I lost my parents might have made up for that deficit. We were each wise beyond our years, burdened with things at a young age. Maybe we recognized that in each other. Something to draw us together. Because I certainly felt drawn to him. More than anyone.

Annoyed, I gave myself a mental kick in the pants, forcing myself to remember I was here to help him, not to pry into every facet of his life.

“Why won’t you open up in group, Knox?” When he shrugged and made a non-committal noise in his throat, I pushed a little harder. “What are you afraid of?”

His gaze leapt to mine. “I’m not afraid. I’m just private. I don’t particularly want to air my dirty laundry in front of a bunch of strangers. Can you blame me?”

“That’s a very normal feeling. But most people find that once they cross that hurdle and open up, there’s a certain comfort in knowing there are others out there with the same struggles. You’re not alone, Knox. The first step is just admitting you have a problem.”

My little speech was met with silence while Knox looked deep in thought. “How about this…I’ll tell you some things that you want to know, if you’ll do the same.”

“You want to know about me?” I asked, surprise evident in my voice.

He shrugged. “Fair’s fair.”

If that would get him talking, I didn’t see any harm. “I’m game. Who starts?”

“I do.” Knox’s dark eyes searched mine, and I fought a little shiver that prickled the skin at the back of my neck. “How did you become a sex addict counselor? Do you have experience with addiction yourself?” Interest flickered in his gaze.

I chewed on my lip again. The story was nothing as dark or interesting as that. The truth was the grief counselor I began seeing in high school led me down this path.

“I went to school for counseling and after I graduated with my bachelor’s degree, I took a part-time position at a center for troubled teens here in the city. I had extra time, so I looked into what other opportunities I could get involved in, and I got linked up with this lady Belinda. She leads SAA and became my mentor. Then after a while of sitting in with her groups, I got my own group.”

Sheesh, I was rambling, but something about the intent way Knox watched me while I spoke, looking between my mouth and my eyes, left me distracted and warm. I drew a deep breath, trying to clear my head. Knox was still watching me, waiting for me to ask him something. It was my turn.

“So…” I drew out the word, buying time. I could go for the obvious, asking him how he ended up with this addiction, but something told me not to push him. I wanted him to open up and feel comfortable, so I couldn’t interrogate him from the start. I liked talking to him and I wasn’t ready for it to end. “Tell me about your brothers,” I said at last.

Knox leaned back into the armchair, crossing one ankle over his knee. Gosh, he was so big, so male, that it was impossible not to notice how completely he filled the small space between us. My pulse jumped and quickened in response.

“Tucker’s eight and in the third grade. He’s a good kid, listens to his teachers, and keeps his room clean.” He released a heavy sigh. “He has an amazing capacity for love. He was so little when we lost her and when Dad took off, that I think he’s the least affected by it.”

Listening to him talk made me wonder what the little boy had been through. I couldn’t imagine losing my mom at such a tender age, and then having to watch my dad run off and abandon the family. My heart ached for him.

“Luke is seventeen and he’s a junior. He’s smart. Like smart-smart. He wants to go to college and he studies hard so he can qualify for a scholarship when the time comes. And Jaxon…” He shook his head. “Jaxon is too much like I was. He’s eighteen and will graduate in the spring. I thought I’d feel relieved once he turned eighteen, knowing that he could ensure the boys didn’t get split up if something ever happened to me…”

He hesitated, and something in his eyes made me sad. I could see how much he worried about them.

“I’m sure he’d step up if he needed to,” he went on. “But for now, he has no plan of what to do when he graduates, no job, no money, and he chases after girls just like I did at that age.”

It surprised me how much Knox was sharing. As uncertain as I’d felt, I was glad I’d followed my instincts and came here today. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to. Not that I’d been thinking about my background in counseling a moment ago. I’d been thinking about his sad eyes, and the way my heart slammed into my ribs when he was near.

Knox grew quiet, like he’d said too much. His eyes slowly lifted to mine. “Your turn, angel.”


Knox

Something about seeing McKenna in my space was surreal. I couldn’t believe she was actually here, sitting in my bedroom. My messy-ass bedroom.

When she’d refused my offer for coffee, I’d seen the momentary indecision in her eyes. She’d wanted to say yes. But something had kept her from acting on it. So I’d left my notebook behind on the table, wondering if would propel her to find me. She had. And now she wanted me to spill my secrets, to psychoanalyze me. Too bad. I wasn’t opening up until she did the same. I didn’t know shit about this girl; I didn’t have to tell her anything. She wasn’t my court-appointed counselor. But if she took the first step, showed me I could trust her, I wasn’t opposed to talking. Something about her intrigued me.

And now, after just a few minutes, I was sitting here spilling my guts like a pussy. I needed to switch us to a lighter topic. She wanted to be let in, but I was pretty sure she’d hate me once she really knew all of it.

Her back was still ramrod straight and she totally looked out of place. It was adorable and struck something inside me. I wanted to see her pretty, unsure smile again. “Is your boyfriend going to be mad you came here?” I asked with the hint of a smile playing on my lips. Her denying that he was her boyfriend would definitely make the alpha male in me happy.

“Brian?” Her brows pulled together. “He’s just a friend.”

“No boyfriend then?”

She shook her head. “No. No boyfriend. What about you?”

“I prefer females. I thought we’d established that was my main problem.” Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. “And no, angel, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Knox,” she started, then stopped herself, chewing on her lower lip before continuing. “I’m sorry I’m here taking up your time, I just came to apologize for how I reacted today. I thought you were blowing off the group and trying to pick me up.”

That might have been my intention at the time, but now it was anything but. McKenna wasn’t like the girls I was used to. If I pressured her into going out with me, something told me I’d only push her away. And I wasn’t ready for that to happen.

“I was serious about being more comfortable talking one-on-one versus in a roomful of people.”

She nodded. “I get that. I’m sorry again. I figured it was a come-on.”

I shook my head. “Not my intention, angel.”

She frowned, like the idea that I wasn’t coming on to her was a slight disappointment. This girl just got more and more interesting the more time I spent with her. I shifted in the chair so I was leaning a little closer to McKenna. Her scent was light and crisp, with the warmth of vanilla and a hint of soap. Not too overpowering, but subtle and pleasant. Just like the girl herself.

The stairs creaked and I glanced over to see Tucker peeking around the corner to spy on us. I’d purposefully left my bedroom door open; I didn’t want any confusion over what was happening between me and McKenna.

“Would you like to stay for lunch?” I asked her. A healthy relationship with a female might be just the kind of normal thing my brothers needed to see from me. And after Jaxon’s wise-ass comment that Knox doesn’t have friends who are girls, I wanted to show them I did. Or at least I could.

McKenna met my eyes and nodded uncertainly. “Okay. That sounds…nice.”

“Cool. But you have to help me cook.”

She smiled warmly at me, a smile too nice and genuine for someone like me, and I felt a stab of regret about luring her into my world. Something in me wanted her, and that was very dangerous.

Downstairs, we found the guys rummaging through the cabinets and munching on handfuls of crackers and chips.

“McKenna’s staying for lunch.” I urged them to put the junk food away and motioned for McKenna to have a seat up on the counter while I gathered ingredients for spaghetti. It was a staple meal around here—inexpensive, easy, and filling. I piled a box of pasta, a jar of sauce, and a package of ground beef on the counter, then grabbed a skillet from the cabinet between McKenna’s legs. She gasped at the unexpected invasion and I rose to my feet, smiling innocently.

“So, how do you know Knox?” Luke asked, looking back and forth between the two of us.

As she paused, obviously struggling to answer his question. “I met her at group,” I interrupted, and she tossed me a grateful smile. I took the opportunity to study her again. Even I had to admit there was something about McKenna that seemed out of place in my life. She was wearing dark jeans that hugged her ass nicely, a white button-down shirt that looked really soft, and little diamond earrings. She looked sweet and wholesome.

Looking down at myself, I took in my worn jeans, a faded black T-shirt, and socks with a hole in the toe. My brothers were no better off. Most of their clothes were secondhand too. Not that we minded; we had what we needed. Something told me McKenna came from money, but I also had the sense she was more than okay slumming here with us. I just wished I knew why. Was she running from something in her life too?

After we ate, the guys headed outside to play basketball, and McKenna and I settled on the living room sofa together. She was different than I would have guessed—not at all stuck-up. She’d laughed and joked with my brothers while eating a big helping of my spaghetti, which was little more than overcooked noodles and runny tomato sauce, and then had helped with the dishes. And now she was sitting cross-legged on my couch looking delectable as fuck. The desire to kiss her shot through me like an arrow.

Knowing I couldn’t do a thing about it was a special kind of torture.

McKenna

“It’s getting dark,” Knox commented, looking toward the front windows.