Knock Love Out (A Sensual New Adult Crossover Romance)

by Grace, Pella

  I sit on the edge of the couch, rubbing irritably along my scruff.

  “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says quietly.

  “Fuck.”

  I see her pink toes in front of my sneakers. When I look up, she’s scared of me. No thinking, I tug on the front of her dress, pulling her in. She hugs and just loves.

  “I wasn’t yelling at you, Honey-girl.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m sorry I did.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “I’m gonna fucking kill my father if this is true.”

  “Don’t be angry at him. He was probably just protecting you.”

  “If the store has been sold then he’s obviously known for a while. He lied to everyone.”

  “It’s not easy to admit failure, Cash. I couldn’t even imagine the pressure he must have on his shoulders.”

  “We’re his family.”

  Big brown eyes. Soft. “Exactly. He has a whole family to care for. You can’t be angry at someone doing their best and failing. I know you hate it when I call you out on your age, but, this is the kind of stuff you’re not old enough to understand. Not because you aren’t bright—you’re the brightest star—you simply haven’t lived long enough.” She smacks my chest.

  “So take all that stupid twenty-four-year-old pride and put it up stairs on canvas, because I swear, picking a fight with your dad isn’t going to change anything. You’ll just be acting like a brat kid.”

  “Why do you have to be so rational and shit, Lilla? Standing here making sense in my house.”

  She smiles. As intended. “Someone needs to tell you not to be an asshole—and well—it’s either me, or holler for Georgia and let her choke the crap out of you. Again.”

  “Look at me, Baby.”

  “I am.”

  “No, look at me. Watch when I tell you this. Hear me, Lilla.”

  Pure focus, searching, waiting.

  “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

  She snorts, falling into me. “You already said that.”

  “I was let off the hook too easily.”

  “Would a knee to the groin make you feel better?”

  “Yes and no?”

  “I’m not kicking you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeat.

  “You’re forgiven. But, do it again, and I won’t be so nice.”

  A beautiful picture held in my hands.

  “My Sky.”

  She rubs her nose to mine.

  “Poppy blessed me with her good looks, but unfortunately I got Claude’s ugly-ass temper.”

  Soft teasing kisses. “Let me feed you.”

  Apologies by way of lips.

  ***

  “Maybe you’ll get your wish after all,” Lilla rests along me, picking at my shirt. “We’ll become those crazy people who live off of love in the park.”

  “I won’t let you be homeless, Lilla. I promise.”

  “I’m already homeless. Crap, I haven’t even changed my clothes in three days.”

  “You’re not homeless. Who loves you?”

  “I’m homeless. You’re adorably sweet and I love you, too, but I am homeless. I need to be. It’s my time to be homeless.”

  “Your time?”

  “Yeah—time to find myself. To figure myself out.”

  “You know who you are, Lilla. You just forgot for a while.”

  She rolls onto my chest, staring into my eyes like there’s something beyond the green.

  ***

  Heath stares at me.

  “Why is Cash drinking himself into oblivion tonight? Not that I mind, he’s usually a lot easier to deal with when he can’t walk.”

  Lilla smiles, watching me lay on the couch, like she loves the shit out of me.

  “The store is going out of business,” she says.

  He jerks away from his beer. “Valentine’s?”

  I suck my teeth. “No, fucking Wal-Mart. Yeah, Valentine’s.”

  Heath sighs. “Fubba U Cubba Kubba.”

  “Don’t quote Eminem to me. You know he’s on my shit list.”

  “If you fucked Mariah and then she denied it went down, you’d be a little pissed too, Cash.”

  “Nope, I’d appreciate I was ever there and keep my lips closed.”

  Lilla is confused.

  Heath explains, “Mariah fucked Slim Shady but then was all ‘oh no you di-ent get up in my pussy’ and then Slim was all ‘bitch you let me come on your belly’ and then Mariah was all ‘I make video. You stalker now.’ and then Slim was all ‘fuck this your husband aint even black.’”

  She looks at me.

  I nod. “Pretty much sums it up.”

  “I thought her husband was the man from America’s Got Talent?”

  “Yeah he is,” burns, burns, burns “… little motherfucker.”

  Lilla laughs.

  “Don’t hate on a brother because he got Mariah, Cash. If you could play the drums and get on Nickelodeon, you might have had a chance too.”

  “I’d paint a mural of her face on my forehead and worship it daily, motherfucker.”

  Lilla, “Your forehead is too small, Love Lump.”

  “Did I say my forehead? I meant my cock.”

  Heath, “Same problem.”

  “Fuck you guys,” I say. “Why are we even talking about this? My family is going to lose everything and we’re talking about stupid shit like Mariah Carey and Slim Shady feuding.”

  ***

  Two hours later, really drunk, lying by Lilla, stroking the Mariah doll.

  “Baby you’re so pretty. I’d make the sweetest slowest sugar love to you. You just don’t know what we could have, little butterfly.”

  “Two seconds from shoving that bitch’s plastic head in the garbage disposal, Cash.”

  “I’d lick you numb, Mariah. You have no idea the things I’m capable of.”

  “One second left,” she warns.

  “Slap that sweet pussy swollen.”

  Snatches the doll from my hands.

  “I didn’t know you were such a light-weight. I would have cut you off, Love Lump.”

  I make a face, digging the bottle from the couch cushions. “Light-weight? This motherfucker is gone. Light-weight. Come lay on me. I’ll slap your sweet pussy swollen.”

  Lilla pets my face. “I think you should stop speaking for the rest of the night.”

  “Ever had your pussy slapped swollen, Lilla?”

  “Stop saying the P-word. I find it offensive.”

  “It’s the most beautiful word in the world, Lil.”

  “Not to me.”

  “What do you call it?” I ask.

  “I try not to?”

  “Snatch is an ugly word,” I say. “Like it’s going to rip my dick off. Yeah—that is an ugly motherfucking word. But pussy? It just sounds soft. Cuddly. It sounds wonderful. Pussy. I love that word.”

  She covers my mouth. “It’s called a vagina. Nothing else.”

  I push her hand away. “A vagina is what a doctor looks at. A pussy is something I’d like to slap swollen.”

  “I think we have established that, Cash.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “All of your friends call you Cash. Am I not as good as them?” she teases.

  “Better—but don’t call me that.”

  “Why, it’s just a name.”

  “Why do you think they call me that?”

  Innocent, honest, trusting, “Because you’re a cashier in your dad’s store … right? Cash—cashier.”

  My nod lies. “Yeah.”

  Her shoulders shrug. “So what’s the big deal?”

  “I’ve never made love to a woman, Lilla.”

  She laughs. “I think I have evidence to the contrary.”

  “Fucking you in the hallway of my dad’s store doesn’t count. Or fucking you in his car. Damn it, we fuck in a lot of places my dad owns. I’m sure there is some type of underlying reasoning for that.�
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  “Aw, did your daddy not love you as a child?”

  “No. Claude was an amazing father. I wouldn’t trade him for anyone. A little bit of a dick sometimes, but he was still the shit. Don’t distract me. I wanna make love to you.”

  “Slow sugar sweet?”

  “Don’t mock my inner desires for Mariah. And stop deflecting. Let’s make love.”

  “I don’t make love to drunk little boys.”

  “Don’t use my own words against me. I’m not that drunk, anyhow.”

  “You’re wearing a cowboy hat, Cash.”

  “So? We were line dancing earlier.”

  Her eyes drop. I follow the lead. I laugh as hard as I can.

  “What the fuck happened to my clothes?”

  “I think they came off somewhere in between “Ride a Horse” and the Jäger bombs.”

  “Well—fuck—good. One less thing to do.” I roll over, patting my naked hips. “Saddle up, partner.”

  “So romantic, Warren, but I think I’ll pass.”

  “Literally gonna leave me hanging, Honey-girl?”

  “Tonight? Yes.”

  I want to convince her otherwise, but my eyes just don’t agree with me. I snuggle down into my couch, closing them.

  Someone says, “Nice cock, Cash.”

  I blink open to see Hattie slap my foot as she heads for the door.

  “Yeah you too, Hattie,” I toss back at her.

  Her hand jerks back and forth. “Mine’s bigger,” she smirks, closing the door as she leaves.

  I look around for Lilla who is no longer near me. “Honey-girl? Where are you?”

  “Right here.” Lilla places a blanket over me. I tug her arm and force her to lie with me, curling my naked self around her.

  “How adorable!” Heath takes a picture with his phone.

  “Christ, you fuckers get out of my house. It’s bed time.”

  “Bang time,” he jokes.

  “No, I was right the first time. Get out.”

  “I’m uploading this to Facebook and calling it Cash’s Kryptonite.”

  “Get out, Heath.”

  “Why do you call him that?” she asks.

  “You already know that, Honey-girl. Sleep. Heath, get the fuck out of my house.”

  “The idiot used to wear a name tag that said Cash, so when he’d ask ‘cash or credit’ to hot women checking out, and they said ‘cash’ it was like … you know. They were saying they wanted him. Shockingly? That crap worked. You know how many women this asshole has banged in the stockroom or the … okay he’s looking at me like he wants to kill me, so success has been achieved. I should probably get going.”

  Three steps and a pause.

  “I’m still uploading this, dude.”

  Lilla lies quietly in my arms as the door closes. Her posture feels good though. Not stiff or unnerved. I peer over her shoulder, spying a slow creeping smile.

  ***

  My house is trashed. My head is thumping. Lilla is walking around picking up shit. The sun is way too golden bright.

  “Fubba U Cubba Kubba.”

  She smiles, looking at me. “English?”

  “Fuck.”

  “You’re still wearing the cowboy hat.”

  She disappears into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with a mug. Honey-girl is so pretty in the morning. I love it. The sun peeks through her frizz as she sits beside me.

  I take a mouthful of the coffee, giving her the eye as …

  “You’ve been holding out on me, Lil.”

  She shrugs. “You always made it before me.”

  “You make coffee as good as Poppy. Will you marry me?”

  “I think there’s a slight problem with that proposal.”

  “How long does it take to get a divorce? I’m not joking either. Really, how long does it take?”

  “I don’t know. I have to talk to a lawyer this week. I have no idea.”

  “You should probably ask him about getting your shit too.”

  “I don’t want Adam’s things.”

  “They’re your things. You guys were married. You own half of whatever you owned together.”

  “I still don’t want them.”

  “As much as I like that dress, Honey-girl, you can’t live in it forever. We’re going to get your shit today. I don’t give a fuck if Adam is there or not. New sheriff in town, little lady.” I grin, tipping my cowboy hat.

  She’s staring at me. Doesn’t look pleased.

  “Fine, we won’t go get your stuff, Lil. The pink dress is fantastic. Sorry.”

  “No,” she shakes her head. “Not that. Just …”

  I raise my brows when she doesn’t finish.

  “It’s just what you said about something being half of mine. I think we need to talk to Claude.”

  “I’m not following. Blame the Jäger.”

  “If Adam is wrong about the location of the store, about Melanie already owning it, then maybe he still owns it. And if he owns it … then … so do I.”

  “Mm, I always wanted to sleep with my boss.”

  She smacks me. “Act like a grown-up for twenty seconds. Please. I’m trying to save your life.”

  I set down the mug of coffee, leaning into the soft waves of marshmallow and vanilla. Honey-girl smells like I’m still asleep.

  “Twice in one lifetime? How did I get so lucky?”

  My lips dance under her chin.

  She gathers my face into her hands, looking at me like the day before on the couch. Something beyond the simple green.

  “That’s how you make love to a woman, Cash. You do it well.” Her face smiles, eyes glancing upwards. “Even with the stupid hat on.”

  “Well,” I breathe, “You were my first. Congratulations.”

  Her lips press to mine and I’m about to roll her over, lock her under me for the rest of the day, but between the lingering Jäger thumps and her hands—I’m denied.

  “We have to work today. Seriously. No playing until both of us get our acts together.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do you think your friend Hattie would mind if I stole some clothes?”

  “All she has is jock-straps and flannel.”

  “Be nice, Warren.”

  “I could just buy you clothes.”

  “I don’t want you buying me things.”

  “Why not? It’s what men do when they …” Her face stops me dead. “I’m not Adam.”

  “Clearly. But I don’t want your money.”

  “It’ll be a loan. I have extremely flexible payment programs.” I palm her tits. “Extremely.”

  “I bet you do, Cash.”

  I tug her legs from under her, sending Lilla to her back, giggling and fighting against me as I push her legs apart. My hand slapping in between her thighs.

  She squeaks, kicking her feet to me as I slap her again.

  “Stop,” but her laughter isn’t matching those words.

  “I’m not afraid to beat a pussy, Honey-girl.”

  I slap her again, three times. Right there.

  “My vagina doesn’t have time to be slapped swollen today. Stop.”

  I let her sit up, watching as she doesn’t mean to grin, righting her clothes. A shove to my chest.

  “Bastard.”

  “I told you not to call me that name. Those who do, shall reap the consequences.”

  “There will be no slapping of anyone else’s vagina. Not horny women in the grocery store or plastic dolls.”

  “I didn’t know you were a jelly sandwich, Lil.”

  “I’m not jealous. I just don’t share well. Contradictory. I know.”

  “Never fear, Lilla, I only have pussy slaps for you.”

  She kisses my cheek.

  “Don’t say that word. It’s offensive.”

  I swat her ass before she reaches for me, pulling me off the couch.

  “Come on, work time, Love Lump.”

  Our feet slosh through empty bags of chips and plastic cups. />
  “My head is in a world of hurt. My apartment is trashed. At the end of today, I could either be dating the girl who saves my family’s future or is going to be the ending of it. When did life get so damn complicated?”

  I look around the house again.

  “Fubba U Cubba Kubba.”

  Lilla smiles, nodding.

  “Indeed.”

  PART ELEVEN

  LILLA KING

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Ass—Adam changed the locks.”

  I toss my keys over the porch, to the grass.

  “It’s cool,” Cash kisses my hand, “I’m an expert at breaking and entering.”

  “That’s illegal.”

  “It’s your damn house, Lilla.” Cash pulls out his wallet, picking a credit card and shoves it along the door frame.

  “Don’t worry, I was never a criminal—my mom just thought it was funny to lock me out when I missed curfew. I got tired of sleeping on the fucking porch.”

  “Just hurry. I have neighbors.”

  “Who will see you trying to get in your own house.”

  “Just—hurry.” I watch the street. “I didn’t even know this really worked.”

  “I feel like ‘Regulate’ should be playing.”

  “Shut up and open the door.”

  The door clicks. Sly grin. He’s lucky I love him.

  “Learn something new every day, Honey-girl.”

  Cash waves me inside, closing the door behind us. It’s awkward. No—it’s the most awkward moment of all time.

  I see him glancing around. I feel his inner thoughts run uncomfortably down my spine. I’m forever grateful when he pauses in the living room, looking out the window.

  “I’ll watch for Adam or the cops. Go get your stuff, Lil.”

  Strange to feel so scared in my home. It’s not my home, though. Four walls and a roof. I take a box of things that will never belong to Adam.

  Clothes. Toiletries.

  I rest the box on the kitchen table and open the cabinet door. I blink. I open the cabinet next to it. The next.

  “Oh, no-no-no. No. You cock-a-doodle. No.”

  “Something wrong?” Cash is asking with laughter.

  There is nothing funny here.

  I open the drawers and fling everything everywhere. My hands frantic and searching desperately.