Chapter 8: One Night

I knocked on his door at nine.

Knox opened it in shirt sleeves, with the collar undone.

He looked at me, and at the chair, and did not smile.

"You came," he said.

"I'm here for the terms."

"Come in."

His apartment took up the whole top floor, with dark floors and a bed against a wall of glass.

The city lay lit up behind it.

I rolled up to the edge of the mattress and set the brakes.

"I can transfer," I said.

"I know you can."

"I want to."

He stepped back and let me.

I pushed up with both arms, swung my hips across, and sat on the edge of his bed with my legs hanging.

My heart was going so hard that I could hear it.

He came and stood between my knees.

"One night," he said. "No forgiveness. You don't ask about Teddy."

"Yes."

"If you want to stop, say it."

"I don't."

He took my face in both hands, and his thumbs pressed under my jaw.

Then he kissed me.

It was not gentle.

It was six months of anger, and I kissed him back with all of mine.

His mouth was hot and hard, and he tasted like the tea from the night before.

I pulled at his shirt until the buttons gave.

He tore the rest off himself and let it fall.

His chest was broad and warm under my hands, and a scar ran across his ribs.

"Lift your arms," he said.

I did.

He pulled my sweater over my head and unhooked my bra with one hand.

He looked at me for a long moment, and I let him.

"Tell me what you feel," he said. "Everywhere. I want to know."

"Your hands."

"Where?"

"Everywhere you put them."

He cupped my breasts and thumbed my nipples until I gasped.

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