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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
KNOX
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I tell Atlas. Which makes me wonder if he is my closest sibling. I’d never thought about it before. But I trust him, and I had to tell someone.
He figured it out at the gym the following week, after I fucked Payton in my Maserati and confronted me. Not that it took much for me to break.
We were sparing with a boxing bag. He was holding it while I took a handful of jabs and almost toppled over.
“You are seriously off your game, brother.”
“I’ve been jerking off so damn much I think my cock is going to fall off. If I don’t yank it off first,” I groaned.
Which he laughed at.
“Look, he didn’t say you had to become a priest, for crying out loud. Just don’t fuck women from work,” Atlas said. “Get on Tinder. Join a dating agency. I can set you up on a date with Trudy.”
I glared at him. “Trudy Pendleton?”
He nodded.
“No fucking thanks. She’s looking for a husband.”
“They all are. Some just lie better than others,” Atlas said.
Was Payton?
“What about Cindy Thorton? She’s hot,” he asked.
She was. And yet...
“No.”
“So I was right. This is about Payton. You more than like her. Jesus, Knox. Did you fuck her?” he accused.
I had tried to lie. I’d even started shaking my head. Then I burst out and said, “Yes, I fucked her. Like twelve hundred times. She stayed the night and all damn day.”
Atlas physically recoiled. “Was she armed?”
“What? No, she wasn’t armed.”
Idiot.
“Well then, you must be in love with her,” he decided.
“I’m not in love with her. I just want to fuck her. Daily. Twice. I want her in my bed so I can have brilliant sex whenever I want. That’s not love.”
“Yeah, I think it is,” Atlas said. “Did you feed her?”
