Chapter 30 CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 30
YAEL
I was sitting stiffly on the edge of the couch, hugging my knees, trying not to think about how close I’d come to dying.
And how close I’d come to crying again.
Knox ran a hand through his hair, then looked at me—really looked. His gaze softened for half a second before he turned away abruptly.
“You should change,” he muttered, voice low, rough. “Your clothes are… ruined.”
I glanced down at the dirt on my skirt, the rip on my sleeve. “Yeah. I guess I should.”
He walked to his room and came back holding a black T-shirt and gray joggers.
They looked soft—like they’d smell of his cologne and danger.
He handed them to me, careful not to touch my fingers.
“Here,” he said quietly. “They’ll be big, but… clean.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, standing and clutching them.
He nodded toward the bathroom. “You can change there.”
When I came out, I immediately regretted it.
The shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, and the joggers were so big I had to fold them twice at the waist.
I looked ridiculous.
But the way Knox’s eyes darkened when he saw me? Yeah, I didn’t feel ridiculous anymore.
He was shirtless.
Of course he was shirtless.
His torso glistened faintly from a recent shower, muscles carved like something sculpted—not born. A thin gold chain rested on his collarbone, and tattoos curled down his arms like secrets I wasn’t supposed to read.
I froze. My brain short-circuited.
Say something, Yael. Literally anything.
“Your shirt’s too big,” I blurted.
His lips curved. “You look better in it than I ever did.”
I rolled my eyes to hide the fact that my knees were about to give out. “You’re impossible.”
He took a step closer. “And you’re trembling.”
“I am not,” I said too fast.
His brow arched. “Then why can I hear your heart from here?”
“Maybe it’s from the adrenaline.”
“Or maybe it’s me.”
I swallowed hard, taking a step back. “Knox—”
He raised a hand, half a warning, half a plea. “Don’t come closer.”
“Why?” I whispered.
He gave a sharp, shaky laugh. “Because if you do, Yael, I’m going to do something I’m not supposed to.”
And maybe it was the fear still lingering in my body, maybe it was the leftover heat from his protection—but I moved anyway.
A step. Then another.
His jaw tightened. “Yael, I mean it.”
I stopped just inches away. The air between us was thick, burning.
“Then don’t,” I whispered.
He cursed softly, then his hand cupped my face, and before I could think, before I could breathe—he kissed me.
It wasn’t gentle.
It was hungry, desperate, like he’d been holding it back for too long.
My hands clutched his shoulders instinctively, and he pulled me closer, deepening it.
Every nerve in my body lit up. The taste of him—mint, heat, want—flooded my senses.
He groaned against my lips, one hand sliding to the back of my neck. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he whispered between breaths.
“I think I do,” I murmured, dizzy.
That made him laugh softly—a sound that somehow made everything worse and better at once.
Then, abruptly, he broke the kiss. His breathing was ragged, his eyes wild.
“Yael.”
“What?” I asked, voice barely a whisper.
He took a step back, running both hands through his hair like he was physically restraining himself. “You need to go to bed.”
“What?”
“In the room,” he said firmly. “You’re sleeping there tonight.”
“And you?”
“I’ll take the couch.”
I blinked, still reeling from what just happened. “Why can’t we just—”
“Because if you stay here,” he interrupted, his voice hoarse, “I won’t be able to control myself.”
The words hit me like a jolt of lightning.
He wasn’t being cocky. He was being honest.
I crossed my arms, trying to hide how flustered I was. “Maybe I can handle you.”
His mouth twitched. “You can’t.”
I frowned. “You’re so sure?”
“Very,” he said, and his gaze dipped to my lips again before he tore it away. “Now, go.”
I hesitated, biting my lower lip. “You kissed me first, remember?”
He chuckled under his breath, turning toward the couch. “And I’m regretting it already.”
“Liar,” I whispered, walking toward the bedroom.
He didn’t answer—but the small smile on his face gave him away.
Inside his room, the air still smelled faintly like him.
Clean, warm, and a little sinful.
I sank onto the bed, still touching my lips where his had been moments ago.
God. What was happening to me?
Somewhere outside the door, I heard him sigh deeply, muttering some
thing like, “She’s going to drive me insane.”
I smiled into the darkness, heart still thundering.
Maybe he already was.