Things We Left Behind (Knockemout, #3)

by Lucy Score

‘We can’t drink all day if we don’t start now.’”

“You know what they say,” Mom said, tugging my sister to her feet. “Chardonnay is the most important meal of the day.”

After all, how was I supposed to find a partner in life when no one measured up to what my parents had found in each other?

I hated how my body reacted to the man every time he walked into a room. That tingling awareness like every nerve in my body just got the same message at the same time. I could deal with that innate, biological warning that danger was near. After all, there was nothing safe about the man. What I couldn’t handle was how the tingling turned immediately into a warm, happy, reflexive There you are, as if I’d been holding my breath for him to appear.

Lucian steadied the flowers and then placed a big, warm hand on my lower back. It felt like getting struck by lightning directly on the spine.

“Sometimes in order to build things back up, you gotta tear them down to the studs.

Simon: If I could have chosen a son in this lifetime, it would have been you. Take care of my girls.

“I like being alone,” I argued. Being alone meant not having to pretend to be okay. Being alone meant not having to be messy and emotional in front of any witnesses. “You’re welcome to be alone with us,” Lina announced.

I want a hot husband who rubs my feet on the couch and knows that I put hot sauce on my pizza. I want to complain about spending Saturday mornings at soccer games and bake three dozen cupcakes at midnight because my self-centered preteen forgot to tell me she volunteered me.”

“Instead of policing the fashion choices of girls, why don’t you put that energy into teaching boys how to control themselves?”

“Yes. Can we agree that there appears to be weather outside?” “Yes, Sloane. We can agree that there is weather.”

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Energy was a precious commodity, and I’d already used all mine up putting my hair in a ponytail.

sometimes the feelings we resist the most are the ones that have the most to teach us.

She had an uncanny knack for knowing what I wanted to say even when I didn’t have the words to say it.

“There are some things we never get over. Some things we hide from the light,”

There’s no point wasting any mental energy on a scenario that hasn’t played out yet.”

I want to give my mom grandkids who are so excited to see her they smash their sticky little faces up against the windows just to watch for her car. I want a house full of people.”

“You’re wired to want a man who’s going to live up to every one of those heroes you read about. The ones who fight for their woman, who drag her off into dark corners because they can’t stand not touching her a moment longer. The ones who would do anything for her.

you could be lining yourself up for more trouble by forcing things to happen instead of letting them unfold.”

Sometimes he read what I was reading just so we could talk about it.

He entered me with one vicious thrust. Time stopped. Oxygen ceased to exist. Everything I knew to be true flew from my head to make room for one crystal clear realization: Lucian Rollins was inside me.

Dad broached the subject of a second mortgage to Mom for Lucian’s bond. “Darling, of course we’ll do it. We can’t leave him behind bars.” In that moment, I realized what a privilege it was to grow up with good people for parents.

I-wasn’t-my-best-self-until-I-met-you, I-want-to-make-all-your-dreams-come-true kind of once-in-a-lifetime, I-still-watch-you-walk-out-of-the-room love.”

“Sloane, your parents drove me to college and furnished my first shitty apartment. They helped me get a job. They fed me when I was hungry. They kept an eye on my mother until she moved. They took me out on my birthday every year since I turned eighteen. They showed up to my college graduation and stood up and cheered when I walked the stage. They invited me to be a part of their family when I couldn’t be part of my own.”

“Listen carefully, Pixie. While my dick is in you, whatever you choose to call it, that makes you mine. And while you’re mine, I get to know when someone is scaring you.”

“Don’t let it get you down,” Fran advised, getting to her feet. “Otherwise, you’ll be in the fetal position on the floor, and you’ll miss out on celebrating the millimeters of forward progress.”

“You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat others when things aren’t going well.”

“You’re going through a rough time, and that makes you feel out of control. But you don’t get to take it out on other people.”

“You’re the man whose identity is so tightly bound to how he sees his father that you sabotage your own chances for happiness.

“I worry that you prioritize winning over happiness, and I don’t know if you’ll be satisfied with winning at the expense of everything else.”

You’re supposed to spend the rest of your lucky-ass life trying to live up to them.”

Maybe getting my heart ripped out and stomped on is better than being too afraid to try in the first place.”

“Love makes men stupid,” I quipped. “Yes, it does. But does denying it make us stupider?”

Falling in love is about discovering someone who makes you better than you are alone and vice versa.”

“What if they hurt you?” “People make mistakes. A lot of them. You get to decide which ones are forgivable.”

“You love me, you idiot. You’ve loved me since we were kids. You loved me even when I broke your trust. You loved me after I fixed it. You still love me.”

I’d rebuild it brick by brick for her. Whatever she wanted. She couldn’t stop me.

I could have already seen her for the last time and not known it. That thought sunk in on a razor-edged moment of clarity.

She paused, staring at the mound of pillows I’d arranged in a U. “You remembered,” she said softly. “I remember every second of us.”

“That’s it. Give me your cigarette. I know you didn’t smoke yet today, so hand it over.” He looked up from the shredded chicken he was plating. “I quit.” “You quit?” I repeated. “You don’t date smokers,” he reminded me.

You only get to be a victim for so long before you have to evolve into a survivor,”

thinking about all the what-ifs is a waste of what we both know is precious time,”

“What do you need now?” I asked breathily. “You. Only you. Always you.”

“You read The Midnight Library?” Her voice rose a full octave. “I read all your book club picks,” I told her.

🥹

“Loving you has been a touchstone for more than half my life. But being loved by you? That’s a fucking miracle. You, Pixie, are my fucking miracle.”

Marry me. Be my wife. Remind me every day that I’m better than I think I am. Show me what it’s like to be loved by you. Because that’s all I ever wanted. To be good enough for you.”

“Sloane Walton, I have loved you for so long I don’t remember what my life was like before my heart was yours. It’s changed over the years. But I’ve loved you as a friend, an enemy, a lover. It would be my greatest honor in this lifetime if you would let me love you as my wife.”

“You were going to sell?” Stef repeated. “Why in the hell would you do that? You love this place.” “I love you more.” Jeremiah said it simply, without fuss.

“I’m saying, let’s move in. Let’s get married. Let’s do the whole damn thing. I’ve been waiting a long damn time for you. Let’s get started already.”

And when he looked up at me, those gray eyes were red-rimmed and filled with so much love it took my breath away.