Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,50

is the right person for me to finally air out everything about the past four years. Maybe that expiration date will come in handy.

“I met Robert shortly after I started college, kind of at a time when I was pretty vulnerable.” I pause, nibbling on my lower lip. Knox remains silent, and I’m grateful he doesn’t ask questions. “We were good together. Had a lot in common, and it was nice finally not being alone. When it began, I never expected it to get serious, ya know? But as time went on, we got closer, and one thing led to another. Before I knew it, sex and I-love-yous happened.”

Knox’s fingers trace along the curve of my back. “Did you mean it? Did you love him?”

It’s an unexpected question. I lift up so I’m in the sitting position, my eyes cast downwards to meet his. “I did. In a way. I wouldn’t call it something fairy tales are made of or anything, but it was warm. It was comfortable. It was exactly what I needed at the time, and I won’t lie, part of me will always be fond of him and thankful for our time together. Unfortunately, over time, things changed. We both evolved, but we were growing in completely different directions.”

Knox stares up at me, his interest surprising me. “I get that. I get that all too much. That’s what happened with Gwen and me.”

“Gwen?” I ask, trying to ignore the knot in my belly at the mention of his long-term love.

He lets out a small chuckle. “Long story short: We were as close to a Tennessean arranged marriage as you can get without it actually being arranged.”

Oh, this sounds interesting. I cross my legs and lean forward, my elbows on my knees. “You have my attention,” I tell him, and his rumbling laughter causes his abs to quake. It’s a gorgeous sight, and as distracted as I want to be, I tear my gaze away and back to his now gleaming eyes.

“Sure you wanna talk about this? I can think of much more exciting things we could be doing.”

I hit him with my pillow. “You don’t get to drop an arranged marriage on me and not spill the details!”

He holds his hands up. “Okay, okay.” He takes the pillow from my grasp and places it under the other one already resting under his head. “Let’s see… Where should I start?”

“Umm, the beginning!”

“Okay. Jesus, woman. I’ll start. Gwen and I grew up as next-door neighbors. Our dads often did business together, our moms running charity events and playing tennis together. I wouldn’t call them the best of friends or anything, but the four of them spent a lot of time palling around. When my mom and Margaret—Gwen’s mom—fell pregnant within a couple of months of each other, they were thrilled, as Mom tells it. When they found out I was a boy and Gwen was a girl, well, you can imagine with they thought.”

“Next-door neighbors, practical best friends—why wouldn’t you hope for that?” I ask.

Knox snaps his fingers at me. “Precisely. So, as kids, we were in close proximity. Didn’t have much choice. Play dates turned into childhood friendship turned into middle school crushes. I spent more time with Gwen than anyone other than my brother, and over time, especially when she grew out of her pretty red pigtails and developed boobs, I decided I didn’t want to just be friends.”

“Boobs. Always a man’s downfall,” I tease.

His eyes lower, his hand cupping one of my own. “These certainly were mine.”

I tremble under the heat in his gaze. “Back to Gwen.”

“I’m touching your breast and you want to talk about another woman?” he asks, his eyebrows raised curiously.

Well. No. But I like this. Getting to know him.

“I’m not going to let you distract me from telling the story, mister. I’m too intrigued. Plus, you started this odd line of questioning. Only fair I get your story.”

He gives my breast a good squeeze. I wrench backwards, his hand falling to his stomach, which rumbles when he laughs.

“More intrigued by another woman than my hand. Ouch, Amelia. You really know how to hit a guy where it hurts.”

I roll my eyes. “Continue, please.”

He rests an arm behind his head, sprawling out even more on my bed, no doubt trying to distract me even further. “Anyway, we became a thing. Probably like you and that dipshit. What’s his name?”

“Robert.”

“Right. Robert. It was familiar. Comfortable. Easy. We both had plans for our future, even