All I Need (The Knights, #1)

by E. Salvador

“What’s your favorite Shrek movie?” She snorts. “You’re not really determining whether we’re meant to be over my preference of a Shrek movie?” “Just answer the question. It’s important.” Lola beams. “Two, of course.” “I knew it, Peaches, we’re meant to be.”

“If you could, would you take senior week back?” He doesn’t hesitate as he answers. “No. Taking it all back would mean not meeting you, and not meeting you would mean no Phoenix, and a world without Phoenix is a world I can’t imagine.”

“Fuck!” My eyes triple in size. “No, Phoenix. Don’t say that.” He giggles, clearly finding this amusing. “Fu⁠—” I softly clamp his mouth shut with my hand. I stop to catch my breath and eye him sternly. “Your mom is going to kill me. Don’t say that. I’m really trying to get on her good side.” If Coach Warren doesn’t kill me, I know Lola will.

“I know what you’re thinking about.” I blink out of the daze, lifting my head to meet his dark, hooded eyes. “I⁠—” “Keep your eyes on us.” I don’t argue with him and drop my gaze to us and where we’re only separated by thin fabric.

I grab her wrist and strap the leather bracelet around it. “Possessive, obsessive, and clingy as fuck. I hope you’re okay with that.” She smiles, staring down at my name engraved on the brown leather. “I’m okay with it.”

“You should be taking a picture of this instead.” She waves her hand across the beach. “Okay,” I say, standing a few feet behind her. “Turn around.” “I said take a picture of the beach, not of me.” “I am.” I grin. “Lola?” “Yeah?” “Smile, golden girl.”

Nix comes barreling in, curls and cheeks bouncing, and his smile giddy and beaming, with Lola right behind him. He runs past the guys as I crouch down, spreading my arms wide open to catch him as he jumps on me. “Hey, Little Bear.” “Hi, Da!” “Hey, Lo—” My head whips back to Phoenix. “What? What did you just call me?” “Da—” He pauses, brows pinching together, looking to the side as if he’s deep in thought. “Da-Daddy.” He smiles, clapping his hands, proud of himself.

“I love it when you roll your eyes,” he says, the grip on my thighs tightening as he carries me away from the wall, and stops when we’re at the olive green bench. “Gives me more reason to fuck the sass out of you.”

“You did such a good job last time,” he praises. “Come here.” I lean closer and with his other free hand, he takes a fistful of my hair. “And I know you’ll do a good job again. Won’t you?” “Yes.” “Good girl.”