Chapter 18 CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 18
KNOX
It was the sound of rain that woke me.
That—and the weird, comforting weight on my leg.
I blinked, the dim yellow light from the desk lamp washing over the room. My neck hurt like hell. My brain felt fried. But when I shifted, something warm slid against me.
And then I saw her.
Yael.
Her head on my lap. Her fingers still tangled in my shirt.
My breath caught.
For a second, I didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Her lashes rested on her cheeks, her breathing soft and even, like she’d fallen asleep trying to comfort someone she wasn’t supposed to care about.
“What the hell…” I muttered quietly, rubbing my eyes. “You’re insane, Knox.”
I tilted my head, studying her.
She looked so peaceful it messed with my head. Her lips slightly parted, her hair spilling across my thighs like ink. There was something painfully innocent about it—something that made my chest ache.
She shifted slightly, her fingers brushing my wrist. I froze again.
“Shit,” I whispered, my throat tight. “Don’t do that.”
I wanted to kiss her.
The thought hit me like a punch.
One second I was staring at her, and the next my gaze dropped to her mouth. The world went quiet.
My hand twitched.
I could imagine it—leaning down, just a little. Feeling what she tasted like.
I slapped my forehead softly. “Get it together, man.”
Her lips curved slightly, like she was dreaming of something funny. Or someone.
And I hated how jealous that made me feel.
I let out a long breath, leaning my head back against the couch. “You really don’t make this easy, you know?”
She didn’t answer, obviously. Just breathed. Just existed.
And somehow that was enough to keep me sitting there like an idiot for another five minutes.
Finally, I stood, careful not to wake her. Her body tilted, and before she could fall, I caught her.
“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re tiny but damn, you don’t feel light right now.”
She made a faint sound, like a hum, but didn’t wake up. Her head fell against my chest, her warmth seeping through my shirt.
“Yeah, sleep through everything, princess,” I murmured.
I adjusted my grip and carried her out. The rain had calmed a little, just soft droplets tapping against the pavement. I opened my car door with one hand, sliding her gently inside, buckling her seatbelt like she was made of glass.
“You’re gonna think I’m a creep for this,” I said quietly, glancing at her one more time.
Her hand was curled near her face, soft and defenseless.
I sighed. “You’re trouble.”
The drive back to my apartment was silent. Just the rain and the occasional flash of headlights cutting through the dark. I kept glancing at her, even though I shouldn’t have. Every time the light hit her face, it made something twist in my chest.
When we got there, I parked and went around to her side. She was still out cold. I smiled, shaking my head.
“You really trust people too easily,” I whispered, lifting her again.
The elevator ride felt longer than usual. My reflection in the mirror looked like a man walking straight into chaos.
By the time we reached my apartment, she was still asleep—her head on my shoulder, her breath steady against my neck. I unlocked the door, kicked it open softly, and walked straight to my bedroom.
“Don’t make this weird, Knox,” I muttered to myself.
I laid her down on the bed carefully. She stirred but didn’t wake up. Her hand brushed the blanket, and I froze again, watching her fingers curl into the sheets like she belonged there.
She looked so out of place in my room—too soft, too good for the sharp edges and shadows that made up my world.
I sighed, pulling the blanket over her.
“Sleep,” I whispered. “You’re safe here.”
Then I walked out before my brain could betray me again.
The living room was dark except for the glow from my laptop. I poured myself a glass of water and dropped into the chair.
Focus.
Work always helped. Always numbed things.
I opened my personal account. The numbers blinked at me.
$8,346,201.74.
The corner of my mouth lifted. Not bad for twenty-one.
Still, money didn’t mean shit when your house wasn’t a home. When your mother called you crying. When you had to pretend it didn’t eat at you every damn day.
I took a long breath, clicking into another window. The code I’d been writing filled the screen—strings of black and green lines scrolling fast.
“Let’s see,” I murmured. “User interface works, login encrypted, data’s clean.”
A new app. A tracking and coordination system for student organizations. Something simple, efficient, scalable. The kind of thing universities would pay a fortune for once I was done.
But honestly? I wasn’t thinking about the app.
Not really.
My mind kept flicking back to the girl asleep in my bed.
Her voice. Her laugh. The way she rolled her eyes when I teased her.
I tried not to smile, but it was useless.
“You’re in my head, Yael,” I said quietly, fingers tapping on the keyboard. “And I really hate that.”
My phone buzzed beside me—a message from Liam on the group chat.
Bro, u see the video of u and Yael? It’s everywhere.
I groaned. “Fantastic.”
Another ping.
She looked ready to punch u.
U good?
I didn’t reply. I just stared at the screen for a second, then turned the phone face down.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I’m good.”
But I wasn’t. Not even close.
I leaned back, running a hand through my hair. The rain outside was steady again, a soft rhythm that filled the silence.
For a long while, I just watched the code scroll, line after line, until my vision blurred.
Eventually, I stood, shutting the laptop. I walked to the bedroom door, leaned against the frame.
She was still asleep. The blanket half covering her, her hair fanned across the pillow.
“Night, trouble,”
I said quietly, a smile tugging at my mouth.
Then I turned off the light and went back to the couch.
Sleep didn’t come easy that night.