Chapter 42 CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 42
KNOX
I didn’t sleep.
Not for a damn second.
I lay there all night staring at the ceiling like it personally offended me, replaying that moment in the elevator — her lips on mine, her hands gripping my shirt like she needed me to breathe, the way she pushed me away with shaky fingers even though her body was still leaning toward me.
I don’t do things with people I’m not dating.
Those words tattooed themselves into my skull.
They looped again and again, mixing with the memory of her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, her breathless voice whispering “Knox, stop—” while everything in her tone said she didn’t want me to.
Dating.
Girlfriend.
Labels.
Commitment.
I had never cared about any of that.
Ever.
But then again, I’d never met someone who could tilt my entire world off its axis just by licking her lips.
I turned onto my side, groaning. “Do I like her enough to date her?”
The thought alone made something in my chest tighten — not in a bad way, just… foreign.
I liked her.
God, I liked her.
I liked the way she argued, the way she glared at me, the way she thought she could hide her blushes with sarcasm.
And I definitely liked the way she kissed.
That part, I felt everywhere.
I rubbed my hand over my face.
If I closed my eyes, I could still feel her pressed against me — the warmth of her waist under my hand, the soft hitch in her throat when I deepened the kiss.
Yeah.
I wanted her.
Badly.
But more than that…
I wanted her to want me.
Not just physically.
Not just because heat pulled us together like magnets.
I wanted her in the daylight too.
At debates.
In hallways.
In every corner of this campus.
I wanted her to choose me.
“Shit,” I muttered, sitting up. “Yeah. I like her enough.”
I grabbed my phone before I could talk myself out of it.
It was almost five in the morning.
Not ideal.
But I wasn’t waiting.
Knox: You awake?
The message sent.
I stared at it.
Regretted it.
Wanted to throw the phone.
Then—
The screen lit up.
Yael: yes.
My heart actually skipped.
Pathetic.
I typed before I could think.
Knox: Meet me at the river spot.
A pause.
She was probably rolling her eyes, muttering something cute and annoyed under her breath.
Yael: why
Knox: Just come, princess.
Knox: Please.
I regretted the “please” instantly.
Too raw.
Too honest.
But she replied.
Yael: fine.
I grabbed my hoodie and left my dorm, not even bothering to check the mirror — she had seen me look worse.
The walk to the river felt longer than usual, the sky just starting to lighten, the cold air biting at my skin in a way that kept me awake, alert, ready.
And then I saw her.
Standing by the water’s edge, arms folded, hair slightly messy from sleep, face soft in the morning light — and all the air left my lungs.
She looked up when she heard my footsteps.
“Knox, why did you—”
I didn’t let her finish.
I grabbed her waist, pulled her into me, and kissed her like I had been starving all night.
She gasped into my mouth, hands instinctively clutching my hoodie, pulling me closer.
Her lips parted softly, and I deepened it — slow, controlled, savoring the exact sweetness that had tortured me since yesterday.
When I finally pulled back, our breaths tangled in the cold air.
“Yael,” I said quietly, “I like you.”
Her eyes widened, panic and disbelief mixing in the prettiest way.
“What?”
“I like you,” I repeated, firmer this time. “And not just for kissing. Not just for the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. Not just because you’re the only person who can argue with me and make me like it.”
She swallowed hard.
Her voice was tiny. “Knox…”
“You said you don’t do things with people unless you’re dating them,” I continued, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “So tell me what to do, princess. Because I want you. All of you.”
Her breath hitched.
She stared at me like the world had frozen.
I cupped her cheek gently. “Be my girlfriend.”
Silence.
Long, torturous silence.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
“You’re serious?” she whispered.
“Dead serious.”
She looked away for a moment, biting her lip — and that small gesture made my stomach twist because it meant she was actually thinking about it.
Then she looked back up at me, eyes soft.
“…Yes.”
It took me a full second to register it.
Then another second for my chest to unclench.
Then another for the grin to break across my face before I could stop it.
“Yeah?” I whispered, stepping closer again.
She nodded slowly. “Yes.”
I didn’t wait.
I pulled her in and kissed her again, slower this time, deeper, with the kind of certainty I’d never felt before in my life.
Her hands slid up to my shoulders, and I smiled into the kiss — actually smiled — because she wasn’t pushing me away this time.
She was choosing me.
When we finally separated, I rested my forehead against hers.
“You’ve just made me the happiest bastard alive,” I murmured.
She laughed softly — breathless, shy, beautiful.
I slipped my hand down to her waist, pulling her closer.
“Come here,” I whispered, kissing
her once more. “My girlfriend.”
The word tasted addictive.
Dangerous.
Perfect.
She smiled against my lips.
“Say it again.”
I tightened my hold.
“My girlfriend.”