Things We Left Behind (Knockemout, #3)

by Lucy Score

“I hate to point this out given the situation, but your hand is on my dick, Pixie. And if you move a muscle or take a deep breath or even make eye contact with me, I’m going to come.”

“There was never going to be an us, Sloane. He made sure of that.” I shook my head. “Your father is dead, Lucian. You’re the one who made sure there would never be an us.”

Good for you, Sloane

I nudged her chin up until those green eyes found mine, and I knew. I was never leaving her again. We’d parted ways for the last time. She just didn’t know it yet.

She said nothing, just stared emptily up at me. My chest constricted tighter. Her pain was my pain. And for the first time in my life, I realized what she must have felt at sixteen, her window open, the whispers of my own pain carried to her on the night breeze.

“You are always my business. You always have been, and you always will be. The only difference is now you know it,”

Spring. A new beginning. A fresh start. Just what we both needed. “Put me down, you gigantic assface!” Sloane shouted.

She pushed away from me and started pacing while she resumed her yelling about all the reasons we wouldn’t work. I found it adorable. I had never felt better about a decision in my entire life.

I really love Happy Lucian

I abandoned the kale. “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 quit your one and only dirty habit for me?”

“You’re asking questions that involve answers I’ve never put into words before. I don’t know how to explain to you why I am the way I am or why I’m trying to change that now. Yet. But I will find a way.”

“It means you two have been something to each other since the beginning of time. And if you really wanted him gone, he’d be gone. So maybe you’re thinking he deserves a second chance.” “He already had one of those,” I reminded her. “Fine. A last chance.”

I

As this chapter is written from Lucian’s pov, this should say “I said” and not “Lucian said”

“I wanted to be nice to you, to have empathy for poor, victimized Kayla. But that was two decades ago. You’ve had twenty-plus years to grow up. Yet here you are, all those years later, still perfectly comfortable playing the victim. Still accepting your son’s checks because you’re too fragile to stand on your own two feet. He doesn’t owe you, lady. You owe him. For every time he stepped between you and the man you chose over him. For every time you made him responsible for your choices. I’m trying not to blame you for that, but you’re making it really fucking hard.”

“Does Blondie believe you’re in it for the long haul yet?” Nolan asked as Sloane shoved her glasses up her nose. “Not yet. But if it takes killing a man in cold blood to prove it, I’ll do it.” “Let’s keep that as option B,” Lina said.

“I broke your trust. I’ll admit that,” I said. “I was young and impulsive, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting you. You hear my wrist breaking in your head? I hear him screaming and hitting you that night. It still haunts me.”

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

“I’m sorry, Sloane. Sorry for blaming you. Sorry for putting you in the position where you felt you had no choice. Sorry for never communicating what I really wanted or needed until now.”

What came out of her mouth wasn’t a sentence. It wasn’t even words. It was the garbled tongue of an ancient civilization.

“You read The Midnight Library?” Her voice rose a full octave. “I read all your book club picks,” I told her. “But why?” “Why? Jesus, Sloane. Why do you think? Because I love you. I’m in love with you. I’ve had the last twenty-some years to obsess over you from afar.”

I knew I should have called Stef, not Knox and Nash. But Stef was busy with his own grand gesture.

“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, Sloane. Be my wife. Let me share your life up close. Let me protect you and love you like I’m ready to.”

She shook her head, fresh tears falling. “There’s something you need to know.” I held her by the upper arms. “What? I’ll fix it or buy it or destroy it.” “I love you.”

“Say it again,” I ordered gruffly. Her smile was a sunbeam that warmed the darkest corners of my heart. “I love you, Lucian Freaking Rollins. I always have. I always will.”

“I’ll make up for it the second the doctor or Google gives the okay. Whichever is first.”

“This is why communication is fucking important,” Knox said, crossing his muscly arms. “Seriously?” Lina said with a smirk. “You of all people.” “Fuck off. I’ve evolved and shit,” Knox said.

“You’re going to cry again, aren’t you?” “No, I’m not, assface. God, why do you have to give such thoughtful gifts? You’re such a jerk,” I sniffled. “Suck it up, or I’ll be forced to unleash Tiffany.”