Things We Never Got Over (Knockemout, #1)

by Lucy Score

“That’s very generous of you,” I began, attempting to process what was happening. But after the past twenty-four hours, my brain was on hiatus. “You’ll still need a paycheck,” she continued, unaware of my mental predicament. I still needed a lot of things. Bike helmets. A car. Some therapy appointments…

“You can slap me tomorrow.” “Probably just make you want me more.” “You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Knox, I’m not buying all those,” I hissed at him. “Shut it,” he said and whipped out his credit card. “If you think for one second that I’m allowing you to buy me underwear—” He cut off my tirade by slinging an arm over my shoulder and covering my mouth with his hand. “Here,” he said, sliding his card across the counter. I was squirming against him until he leaned down. “If this is what it takes to get out of this fucking store without passing out from a goddamn hard-on, I’m buying you the fucking underwear.”

“The first time he met me, he called me trash.” “That bitch.” “Well, technically he thought I was Tina when he was yelling at me in front of an entire cafe full of strangers.” “That vision-impaired bitch.”

ME CORE

I don’t know why your mom does the things she does. I don’t really want to know. Something’s broke inside her, and that makes her treat others like shit. Got it?” Waylay nodded again. “Your Aunt Naomi over there isn’t like that. She’s not broken. She’ll probably still fuck up now and then, but that’s cause she’s human, not broken. Which is why when you mess up—and you will cause you’re human too—there has to be a consequence. It won’t be cutting your hair or not making you dinner. It’ll be boring shit like chores and grounding and no TV. Got it?” “I got it,” she said quietly. “From here on out, if anyone says they have a right to decide what to do with your body, kid, you kick ’em in the ass, then come find me,” Knox told her.

“Why don’t you ever fucking listen?” he grumbled, lips moving against my hair. “Because sometimes people don’t know how to ask for what they really need. You needed a hug.” “No. I didn’t,” he rasped. He was quiet for a long moment, and I listened to his heartbeat. “I needed you.”

“Baby, you need to stop obsessing about the things you should be doing and make some time for the shit you wanna do.” “I want to get back to work. I don’t have time for you to murder me in the woods today.”

“Everyone in town knows it’s a Code Red. It’ll be a slow night.” “I am really uncomfortable with the idea of an entire town tracking its women’s menstrual cycles.” “Hey, we’re normalizing period shit,” I argued.

“I wish I could be more like you.” “What? A selfish asshole?” “No. Whatever the opposite of a people-pleaser is.” “A people-displeaser?” I supplied.

A shadow in the doorway caught my eye. I jumped and slapped a hand to my chest. “Crap on a cracker, Knox. You scared the hell out of me!” He leaned against the doorjamb and quirked an eyebrow. “Baby, I don’t wanna tell you how to do your job or anything, but aren’t you supposed to not yell in a library?”

“Don’t be sweet and funny right now.” “Baby, those are two things no one has ever accused me of being.”

“There’s a difference between taking care of someone because you love them and taking care of someone because you want them to love you,” she continued. There was a big difference. One of them was genuine and giving, and the other was manipulative, controlling.