Forsaken Desires (The Deepest Desires 2)

chapter forty-four

Aston

My nerves are all over the place. Why am I so fucking nervous to see Knox tonight? We’ve been alone plenty of times, so how is this any different? Seeing him in the hospital didn’t even leave me this anxious.

I need to admit to him—and myself—how I feel. How I’ve always felt. Baring myself like this terrifies me; he’s already hurt me once. Seeing him at that party all those months ago with that girl pissed me off, but it also really fucking hurt. But it’s different now, isn’t it? Now I know why he did the things he did, pushed me away, fought against his feelings. It wasn’t because he didn’t care… right?

Fuck, I hate feeling this unsure of myself. It was never like this before him.

Finishing getting dressed, I shove my feet into my black-and-white checkered Vans slip-ons that match the black Vans hoodie I’m wearing. Slipping my black Batman beanie on and sliding my pack of cigarettes into my back pocket, I make my way downstairs.

My parents are pissed off and upset about what Knox went through with his dad. They have always been friendly with his folks, in the fake way that all wealthy families are in this town, but my dad said he’s not entirely surprised to find out his dad did this. Our dads don’t necessarily work together, but they’ve crossed paths professionally a time or two, with my dad’s law firm representing his company. According to Dad, his hair-pin temper is just as bad in the office as it appears to be at home.

Walking into the dining room, my parents are playing cards together and drinking wine. “Hey, I’m heading over to Weston’s house to hang out with Knox. I’ll be back later.”

My mom looks up from her cards, a warm smile pulling at her lips. “Okay, honey. Let us know if there is anything we can do for him, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Drive safe, dear.”

Climbing in the M4, then starting the car and letting the Bluetooth connect, I make my way to Weston’s. It’s a clear, warm night, the stars visible up in the sky. Turning up the speakers when Bow Down by I Prevail comes on, I get lost in the music while I work to calm my nerves. The drive isn’t nearly long enough and I’m pulling up outside his house in no time, the streets mostly empty tonight.

Knox is staying in the guesthouse, but I’d rather not trample through Weston’s backyard when I’ve never been here before. Knocking on the front door, a figure through the stained glass makes its way to the door. By the small frame, I can tell it’s Katie answering.

“Hey, Aston,” she says, a friendly smile on her face.

“Hey, Katie. How’s it going?”

“Good, come on in.”

You’d think spending the last week around her in the hospital would make this less awkward, but I feel like I’m in a metaphorical fishbowl, with her knowing exactly what I’m here for.

“He’s out in the guesthouse already. Want something to drink before you go?”

“Uh, sure. Water would be great. Thanks.”

Weston’s house is nice. Paintings that probably cost a fortune line the walls, the ceilings are tall, and the floor plan is pretty open. Following Katie into the kitchen, their table is big enough to seat at least ten, and the counters are granite, with a farmhouse style sink. Weston walks in the room from the opposite side at the same time we do.

“Hey, man. You just get here?

“Yup. How’s it going?”

“Pretty good, just kicking her ass in Call of Duty.”

Katie scoffs loudly from the fridge. “He’s only kicking my ass because the game is stupid and makes no sense.”

Laughing at that, because video games definitely aren’t my thing. “I’d have to agree with Katie, bro.”

“Traitor.”

“Ha! Told you,” she gloats, handing me a bottle of Fiji water.

“Thanks. The backdoor is through there?” She points in the direction Weston just came from.

“Yup, straight shot to the door and you’ll see the front of the guesthouse once you get on the deck.”

“Thanks. Catch ya later.”

Swallowing past the lump in my throat and ignoring the way my palms are suddenly slick, I make my way toward the guesthouse.

This is ridiculous—it’s Knox.

Rapping my knuckles on the door, I hear a faint “come in” from inside the house. Twisting the knob and letting myself in, a scent that is wholly Knox greets me. My pulse starts racing and my skin heats up.

Fuck.

The floor plan in here is open, too, so I’m able to see the living room from the door. Making my way down the hall, working on slowing my heartbeat down, my breath catches when Knox comes into view.

Fucking hell, he looks good. Only he would be able to look breathtakingly beautiful with black eyes, a cast, and bruises covering his face.

“Hi,” I whisper, coming to sit on the couch opposite of him.

“Hi.” He looks just as nervous as I feel.

Opening my water, I take a few large gulps to try and ease some of the awkwardness I’m feeling. Some drips out the side of my mouth, going down my chin and onto my shirt. So much for not being fucking weird. Wiping off my chin, his laugh sings in my ears, causing me to look up and meet his gaze.

His eyes are bloodshot, but the swelling seems to have gone down, the gray green of his eyes more vibrant, but his pupils tiny—I’m guessing from his pain meds. He’s wearing a faded black band tee for an artist I’ve never heard of, probably local, with white Jordan basketball shorts, and black ankle socks. The cast on his arm is a royal blue, and I can tell Katie has already been drawing on it.

“How you feeling?” I finally ask after several long moments of silence.

“Eh. I’m alright, I guess. The meds help.”

“That’s good.” My left knee is bouncing up and down, fingers fidgeting with the label on the water bottle. My skin feels tingly and I’m itching to reach out and touch him, which is ridiculous. It’s been months since we’ve touched each other. The pull to him shouldn’t be this strong.

“Thanks, uh,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact. “Thanks again for what you did for me with my dad.”

“Man, you don’t need to thank me. It’s nothing.” I’d do it again and again for him. But I won’t say that.

“It’s not nothing, though.” His head snaps up, eyes coming to mine. “Given our history and how we ended things, it is a big deal. I’m super fucking thankful.”

“You’d do the same for me.” He nods, keeping his eyes on mine.

“I missed you,” he admits in a hushed voice.

Any progress I made slowing my pulse down is out the window at that confession. “I missed you too.”

“I’m sorry about how things ended with us. I was a coward and selfish, and I should’ve been more honest with you. If I could go back, I’d—” I shake my head slightly.

“Knox, you don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

“No. Let me say this. I need you to hear it.” His tone is desperate, but demanding. It makes my stomach flutter.

“O-okay.”

“Life without you makes no fucking sense, Aston. I walked through life all these years, barely getting by, a shell of who I could be—who I am with you. You push me out of my comfort zone, but never let me fall. You’ve seen my ugly, my coward, my fucked up, and you’ve cared for me despite it all. Let me fucking love you the way I know you love me, the way you deserve. Because I do, Aston. I fucking love you.”

My throat is clogged with emotions so large; I don’t know how to handle them. Hot tears stream down my face, and when my gaze locks on him, his eyes are glossy with unshed tears as he chews on his bottom lip.

He clears his throat before continuing. “I cannot—fucking cannot—live without you again. These last few months have been agonizing. You’ve become my everything in such a short amount of time. You’ve shown me what unconditional love feels like when I never thought I’d get that. Never thought I deserved it. You gave it to me anyway. You saw past my moody, angry persona, and latched onto my soul. You’re who I want more than anything. You’re my fucking future. My person. My fucking lobster, dude.”

Laughing at his Friends reference and wiping away the tears that fell, I get up and make my way over to him. Kneeling between his knees and cupping his face gently with both my hands, I make sure he’s looking me in my eye before saying anything.

“Knox, you are one of the most deserving people I’ve ever met. You’re stronger and braver than you know. The shit you’ve had to go through in your life from someone you’re supposed to trust fully is astonishing. Do I wish you would’ve told me about this earlier? Yes, but I get why you didn’t. This is your story. I’ll always be here for you, no matter fucking what.

“Getting that call from Katie that you were in the hospital shattered something inside me.” Tears are flowing down both of our faces, his bottom lip is quivering, and my hands are shaking where I’m holding his face in my palms. “Falling for you was not in the plan. I wanted so badly to hate you the way you hated me, but I could never. You’re beautiful, handsome, and fucking sexy. You’re kind and funny. You’re talented as fuck behind the guitar, smart as hell, and absolutely fucking perfect for me.”

Never in my life have I ever felt as raw as I do right now, but as he brings his plush lips down on mine, I’ve also never felt more wanted or needed than I do in this very moment. The cut on his lip from where it split is rough against mine, but aside from that, his pouty lips are pillow soft and so fucking warm. His tongue comes out and swipes across the seam of mine, and when I open up, he dives inside. The kiss tastes both salty and sweet, our tears mixing with the bubblegum he was chewing.

Sitting back on my heels, he slides down to straddle my lap. His body trembles against mine, his hand that isn’t in the cast fists the collar of my hoodie. He’s sore, and I’m trying to be careful, but fuck, I want to ravage him. I’ve fucking missed this.

The kiss that started out slow and sweet quickly becomes needy and messy. He rocks on my lap, my cock thickening with each swipe of his tongue against mine. The groan that comes up my throat is entirely involuntary, as is the shiver that wracks through me.

Breaking my lips away from his and gripping his chin between my thumb and index finger, I pepper kisses along his sharp jawline, down his neck. Kissing anywhere and everywhere all at once, loving the soft whimpers and moans coming from him. Dragging my hands down his chest and under his shirt, his warm, soft skin goosebumps under my touch.

“Fuck, Aston,” he groans, grinding harder on my lap. “I need you. Need to feel your skin on mine, please.”

The begging snaps any semblance of self-control I thought I possessed. Reaching around and grabbing his ass, thrusting my hips up, I bring my lips back to his and utterly devour his mouth.

I need him right now more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.