Page 98 of Knox

“Are we done?”

“You are. Go watch TV if you want. I need to clean up and make a list of missing parts so you can call maintenance.”

“Okay.”

So for the next twenty minutes, I pretend to watch TV while my entire attention stays fixed on Knox as he cleans.

Fuck… just go kiss him, Cillian.

No—terrible idea.

But is it, though?

Maybe it turns out to be the best idea in the world… right after linear perspective and paint tubes, of course.

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

He tells me no?

So what? He tells me that fifty times a day.

It’s always… ‘No, Cillian, you can’t go out.’

‘No, you can’t run away. No, you can’t drink that whiskey. No, you can’t suck my dick.’

Just no after no.

Come on, Cil.

You already have the no… so go get that damn yes.

And luckily for me, Knox is so focused on his list of missing tools that he doesn’t hear me walk into the kitchen.

I step right behind him, press my chest against his back, and he tenses. But since he doesn’t push me away, I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my chin on his shoulder.

“You missed a spot,” I whisper into his ear.

“Cillian. Move away.”

“Why?”

“I’m serious, Cil. Step back.”

“I want you. Don’t you want me?”

Knox shuts off the faucet and sighs. “I do. I’m out of my mind, tempted, little Prince.”

“So? I want you, you want me. I don’t understand what the problem is.”

He takes my hands from his waist, gently unwinding my grip as he turns around to face me.

Confused but hopeful, I tilt my head up and lock eyes with him.

“Because nothing good will come from crossing this line,” he explains, and it hurts more than I’d like to admit. “When this job is over, I’ll just go back to my life, and you’ll go back to yours.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know. We can never be in a real relationship.”