Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,62
me. “Why do you think I invited you over?”
I shoot him a mocking glare then wander through the first floor, taking in the sparsely decorated space. “How long have you owned this place?” I ask, because it appears to be barely lived in. As he’s spent all of his nights with me since Clay left, I’m not surprised, just curious.
He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “Ah, I found out about just before I came here.”
“You found out about it?”
His hand stops mid-caress, and his gaze falls to the floor before coming to meet mine. Now I’m curious as to the cause of his apprehension, but just like he’s given me time and space to tell him—or, in my case, not—about personal things in my life, I follow suit and keep all my questions to myself.
He turns a kitchen chair around and sits backwards in it. “Long story short, Mom thinks I’m a workaholic.”
Considering he’s barely twenty-two and hasn’t graduated from college yet, I can’t imagine how that’s true. “Uh huh,” I say simply, hoping it urges him to continue.
“You might be surprised to find out that I’m not some poor country boy.”
I can’t help the giggle that escapes my lips. I bring my hand to my mouth in mock surprise. “Well, I’ll be, Knox. I would’ve never guessed with the pristine Thunderbird or the fancy motorbike your brother kept trying to get permission to ride. Here I was thinkin’ you were just some bad boy James Dean wannabe lookin’ for a girl to shack up with for the summer. Are you telling me that you, the man with the fancy watch, the perfect haircut, and the shiny car, have money?” I ask, in my best Southern belle accent—which isn’t all that great.
Knox rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. I get it. Not like I was hiding it or anything. It’s just… Where I come from, people expect me to act a certain way. Be a certain man. Here, I’ve found I can be a more relaxed version of myself, a version I didn’t even know existed. For the first time, I haven’t had work or my future on the brain twenty-four-seven, and I have you to thank for that.”
I’m squealing on the inside. Somehow I maintain my cool and offer him a bright smile. “Glad to be of service.”
Knox’s eyes darken and I throw a towel at him.
“Not that kind of service! So you come from money. So what? I’m not exactly hurting, either. After all, I’m here for the entire summer, no bills, play money, and barely a care in the world.”
I could tell him the truth about me, but what’s the point? It seems we’re both keeping each other at arms’ length when not in the bedroom.
“Trust me. I’m still trying to figure out how to talk you into fucking on the hood of that beauty in your garage.”
My cheeks flush. I still haven’t told him about my parents. I don’t know why. It…just hasn’t come up. If he knew that was my dad’s car, he might rethink his plans for it. Then again, from what I’ve come to know of Knox, not much will get in the way of what and when he wants to fuck.
“I fucking love it when you blush.”
Not melting. Not melting one bit.
“So, how’d you end up with this place?” I ask, changing the subject.
He runs a hand over the back of his neck. “You know how I work for my dad? And plan on working there after graduation?”
I nod.
“It’s legacy. Dad built the business into what it is not for himself, but so he could share something with—and one day leave it to—Clay and me. Since I was a kid, I’ve known what my future would hold, and since my dad’s the greatest man I’ve ever known, it’s my mission to make him proud.”
“That’s sweet, Knox.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like my mom.” He treats me to an eye roll. “I spent more time during my childhood at Dad’s office than I did on the playground. In high school, I dabbled in sports for a bit, but that didn’t stop me from continuing to learn from my old man. College—pretty much the same. I go to Dad’s alma mater, worked for him in between classes and during every summer since eighth grade.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong. I was there because I wanted to be, not because of Dad pressuring me. If I’d have told him that I wanted to