Knock Love Out (A Sensual New Adult Crossover Romance)

by Grace, Pella

  It’s not there.

  It’s not here.

  Slamming the drawer until it can’t take any more abuse. I kick the crap out of the bottom cabinet drawer. Cash is not laughing at me any longer.

  I walk myself up the stairs, straight to his office and pull the keys from the top drawer, unlocking the file cabinet.

  The window behind me is shoved open and I take every file in his desk and fling them outside. The cup of pens. The keyboard.

  “This is quite a leap for someone who was against me using a credit card in the doorjamb.”

  Goodbye little planner book with important things in it. Goodbye, sir.

  “He took my grandmother’s cookbook.”

  Goodbye back-up files little thingy that plugs into the computer. Goodbye, sir.

  Cash’s voice shrinks. “A cookbook?”

  I spin, looking for something else to toss.

  “Yeah, a cookbook. I’ve had that thing since I was ten. It’s all I have left of my grandmother. You gotta problem with that, Cash?”

  He shakes his head.

  “No, Lil, please carry on with the destruction.”

  My hands shovel an armful of papers from Adam’s desk, pausing when my eyes see the computer screen.

  Words blinking like little neon lights.

  Claude Valentine

  Valentine’s Grocery

  Before I can read it, I hear yelling.

  Cash curses.

  I move the mouse and click print, gathering the papers into my hand just as Adam walks in.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I stalk towards him.

  “You’re an asshole!” I shove his chest, unable to keep my feelings at bay. The tears. The hurt. “It was my grandmother’s, you asshole!”

  “Get out of my house, Lil.”

  I shove him again. “I want my book.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  I hit him again. “Give me the book, Adam.”

  “You destroyed my office, you’re breaking into my house, and now you’re assaulting me. Wanna play this game, Lil? You’ll lose, little girl.”

  I slap repeatedly at him with everything I can muster, nonstop, until Cash tugs me away, winding his arms around me.

  “You had to bring your boyfriend with you? In our house, Lil. Really?”

  “I thought it wasn’t my house?”

  Cash interrupts, tightening his hold.

  “I’m only making sure she’s alright. This isn’t about being a dick. Just give her the book and we’ll go.”

  “Get out of my house,” Adam demands.

  I push Cash’s arms away, heading for the door, but my feet turn, finding myself pressed right up against Adam, my face a breath away from touching his.

  “It’s fitting—really—because that was the only thing in this stupid damn house that meant anything to me. Just like me, Adam—you destroyed it. Something someone poured their life into. You took it for granted. It’s nothing to you. Nothing.”

  “Tell your boyfriend to leave and we can have this conversation, Lilla.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss—you’ve made it quite clear how you feel.”

  “And you? What do you feel?” He grabs my arm and I pull away.

  “I think your shit on the lawn is proof.”

  “I was angry at you. I didn’t mean to hurt you with the book. See, Sweetheart? Makes it all better, doesn’t it? You slept with the kid behind you and I burned your grandma’s book. We’re all evened up.” He grabs my arm again, but I don’t have to push him away this time.

  Cash takes me with one hand and shoves him with the other, Adam’s feet tripping backwards at the force.

  “Don’t fucking touch her again.”

  “Isn’t it your nap time, kid?”

  I step in front of Cash.

  “This kid has more sense in his pinky toe than you could dream of, Adam. This kid is brilliant and funny and I love him more than I was ever able to love you and you make my damn skin crawl I hate you so much—God—I hate you so much.”

  I’m hitting him again. The papers crunch in my hands as I suck in a breath.

  “It didn’t have to be like this. You ass, it didn’t have to be like this.”

  I hit him again and my finger pops, causing me to walk right out of the room.

  I’ve given him enough tears and enough pain and enough of my time.

  ***

  “Make her laugh, dude. She needs to laugh.”

  Heath makes faces at me. I squeak as Hattie pops my finger back in place.

  “Sorry,” she apologies. “It worked. How did this happen anyhow?”

  A small smile on Cash’s face.

  “She hit her husband in my honor,” he smirks, a sigh escaping. “And Heath says my dick isn’t magical.”

  “I hit Adam because he deserved to be hit.”

  “Set on fire,” he corrects. “Castrated. I told you I could have brought two matches.”

  “Leave her alone and eat your food, jerk-off. You’ve caused enough trouble,” Hattie spits.

  Cash pops the lid off the container that contains the best shit ever. Loaded nachos from Border on the Run.

  “Who the hell stops for nachos when their girlfriend’s finger is dislocated, anyhow?”

  “I don’t know,” he pushes them toward me. “Maybe someone who wants to be nice and feed his girlfriend shit she likes when she’s in pain, but you know, whatever. The hell is your problem today, Hattie?”

  “You. And men in general.”

  “If you’re on the rag, I have a stash of candy bars in my pantry. Feel free to steal as many as it takes to wipe the bitch from your system.”

  “Don’t call me a bitch, you bitch.”

  “Jesus, you’re annoying today.”

  “You’re annoying every day.”

  “Yeah, since I was five years old. Why does this surprise you all of a sudden? Seriously, I have Hershey bars, peanut butter cups, M & M’s—even though their very name isn’t welcome in my house—” he looks at me. “Snickers.”

  “I don’t need candy. I need a friend who acts like a grown up and doesn’t run out on me when I need him and acts responsible and—”

  His friend starts hyperventilating.

  Something tells me this is going to be a really, really, long day.

  PART TWELVE

  CASH

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  She’s like a human waterfall.

  “You are acting so weird. What in the fuck is with you, chick?”

  I reach for her shoulder but she swats me away.

  “You eat so disgustingly! Practically attacking your food, you gross pig!”

  I just smile at her craziness. “You should see me eat pussy.”

  “I’m pregnant, Cash!”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m serious. Trent and I are having a kid. I’m ten weeks.”

  “That’s fucking … almost three months. You’ve been knocked up for three months and haven’t told me?”

  “I didn’t even know. I just thought you were getting on my nerves more than normal.”

  “Holy shit. You’re gonna have a motherfucking kid.”

  “I know.” She beams sniffling through her tears.

  Fucking beams.

  I’ve never seen anyone look so happy.

  “Shit, Hattie.” I slide away from my chair and I hug the hell out of her. “I’ll stomp Trent’s ass if he doesn’t ask you to marry him.”

  “I know you will, Cash,” she cry laughs.

  “Goddamn right.” I touch her belly. “Hey little bastard baby, it’s me, your uncle.”

  “Jesus help me, you’re never going near my child, Cash.”

  I rub her stomach again, hands to it and just in fucking awe. There’s a life in there. Hattie has a baby in her stomach. A human being for Christ sake.

  “This is like … the most surreal shit ever. I’ll stomp him dead, Hattie. Dead. I swear.”

&
nbsp; She laughs, squeezing my arm.

  “I know.”

  “Here—sit on my lap.” I scoop a chip under the pile of cheese, rice and chicken. “My first nice act towards my nephew or niece.”

  She opens her mouth, eating the nacho. Pats my head.

  “You better hurry and grow up. I want my kid to have a friend like how we were.”

  “Are,” I correct her.

  Her fingers wipe around her mouth.

  “Bah, don’t be so nice. It creeps me out.”

  “You look kind of fat. Your pregnant body is crushing my leg.”

  “Better. Lilla, do you want kids?” she asks.

  “Don’t ask Lilla that kind of stuff. Eat my goddamn nachos.”

  “I’m not asking her if she wants to have your kid—I couldn’t fathom anyone saying yes to that—I’m asking in general.”

  “The only thing Lilla’s old womb is good for is cobwebs and spiders.”

  I laugh.

  Crickets.

  Heath’s eyes are gonna pop out of his face.

  My eyes squint. “Too much?”

  Nods all around.

  “I’m sorry. Your womb is amazing and I’d live there if it were possible, Honey-girl.”

  Hattie leans in to my ear.

  “You better hope your pussy eating is as good as you think, Stud.”

  “Mmhm.” I feed her another nacho.

  “I’m not sure,” Lilla answers finally.

  “Oh come on. Don’t let this bastard scare you. My ten-week-old fetus is more mature than he is.”

  “She’s probably right,” Heath nods, stealing a chip.

  “I don’t think I want kids. I never really … I just never had that desire. Maybe I’m weird.”

  “I never wanted it, either,” Hattie says. “This is a total accident, I assure you, but, oh my gosh it’s like …” Hattie’s hands surround herself. “I wouldn’t ever go back and change it. You just feel like the sun lives in your chest.”

  “Stomach,” I correct.

  “I’m sorry, are you pregnant, Cash?”

  I shrug, “I thought you meant the kid.”

  “I mean my heart. My heart is just so alive. It’s just completely alive. A freaking golden ball of sunshine, right here.” She holds her hand over her chest.

  I stare at her smile. Give a soft hug before feeding her another bite of my food.

  “Trent’s face will be fucking unrecognizable, Hattie.”

  She kisses my cheek. “I know.”

  Her hands push the container away, towards Lilla.

  “I’m sorry—I’m sitting on your man and eating your food. I blame my newfound slutty ways on my hormones I have no control over.”

  Lilla smiles. “It’s alright. You fixed my finger. Plus, sitting on Cash really isn’t that great.”

  Heath gives her a fist-bump.

  “I have evidence to the contrary, Honey-girl. I think last week, around four in the afternoon? Ring any bells, Lilla?”

  “I don’t think that would be considered sitting,” she grins.

  “I’d like to go back to talking about Lilla hitting men and not this please,” Hattie sticks her fingers in her ears.

  I tug them away. “Up against the wall in my dad’s—”

  “La-la-la-la—”

  I laugh and slide her back into her seat.

  “I feel bad for little Lilla,” Heath sighs, putting his arm around her. “I mean—” he pauses as I sit forward. “What’s with the look, Money?”

  “Money?” I say.

  “I’m trying out new things, since I’m not allowed to use Cash anymore.”

  “No one’s allowed to use Cash anymore,” Hattie smirks.

  Me, “How exactly do two men have a baby anyhow, Hattie?”

  Her, “You see, there’s this thing called a penis, Cash—I’m sure you have no idea what it is, allow me to explain—”

  Heath, “She got you good, man.”

  Me, “You need to get your goddamn arm off my Lilla before something else gets broken, fuck-face.”

  “Seriously,” Hattie interrupts, “Why did you hit your ex?”

  “He set her grandma’s flag on fire,” I tease.

  “Flag?”

  Lilla sighs. “I had a cookbook with all my grandmother’s recipes in it. Some stories, too. The idiot confessed to burning it and then was talking crap about Cash and it all just mixed with years of built up resentment and—violence seemed to be the right answer.”

  “Yeah,” Hattie grins, “You and Cash probably belong together.”

  Heath tightens his hold around Lilla.

  “Yeah, someone needs to show Money how to be a real man.”

  I reach, pulling Lilla away from him and to my lap.

  “Stop calling me that. It sounds so fucking retarded.”

  “Not to be rude,” Lilla begins, “but if ‘Money’ and I don’t get to work, that nickname is probably going to be the only type we have. So …”

  “What Honey-girl is trying to say is: you motherfuckers need to leave.”

  “Shh, young ears.” Hattie hugs her belly and I lift Lilla, following Hattie as she makes her way to the door.

  Heath follows her out and I lean into the hallway, hollering after them.

  “I’m serious, Hattie. Trent is going to look like he was in an eighties Pepsi commercial.”

  She spins, looking back to me.

  “Just take care of that girl, Cash. She’s your responsibility now.”

  “You became my responsibility the day your black-eye knocked on my door, Hattie. Always will be.”

  She smiles small, spinning back around and finds her door in our shared hallway. I don’t close my own door until she’s gone. Lilla shyly looks away as I step inside my apartment. I take a seat beside her on the couch, reaching for her hand.

  “Number one, Honey-girl: You have no idea how sexy this shit was.” I kiss her fingers. “Number two, Honey-girl: you have no idea how angry I am you hurt yourself.”

  “I’m okay. Really.”

  “I want to skin Adam alive.”

  “We could go back,” she grins.

  I nuzzle into her shoulder, kissing along her soft skin.

  “You know the whole conversation we had in regards to certain female anatomy and slapping, Lil …?”

  Soft laughter. As intended.

  “I think enough slapping and swelling has occurred today, but thanks for the offer.”

  “It was going to be more of a promise.”

  Lilla tips her head, dotting her lips to my face.

  “You would have been worth breaking all my fingers.”

  “No,” I return her kisses. “I’ll never tell you what to do, Lilla, because I’m not that kind of guy—but no. You’re not allowed to break anything—for me or otherwise.”

  “Today was so weird.”

  “Phh, you’re telling me,” I rest my head against her chest, reveling in her scalp massage. “Hattie’s fucking pregnant.”

  “What did you mean?” she asks softly. “Did someone hurt her … what you said … by the door? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Never mind.”

  I roll, lying in her lap. She keeps brushing through my hair with her fingers.

  “Let’s just say, Adam would look like a saint compared to the men in Hattie’s life.”

  Lilla nods.

  “I’m sorry he destroyed your grandma’s cookbook. I’d replace it if were possible, Honey-girl.” I kiss her stomach.

  “I printed papers from his computer. It was something about the store. Hand me that box behind you.”

  Lilla takes the papers after I hand them over, readjusting to sit beside her. She reads them slowly, flipping through the pages several times before she looks at me.

  “We’re gonna need a crap load of paint.”

  I smile confusedly. “For?”

  Lilla hands the papers to me, a slow creeping smile on her face.

  “We have serious billboards to paint.”
/>   Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lilla points to the CD player.

  “Is this song serious?”

  I laugh, lighting up a cigarette as Lilla lowers the radio.

  “As in—do women want guys to lick from the crack to the pussy?” I take a drag.

  “I mean—this truly is a song just about that?”

  “It’s a good song in the right situation, Honey-girl.” I shrug, putting the car in reverse.

  “Like when? When does a song like this come in handy, Cash? In what universe would you need a song about cracks getting … disturbing. It’s just disturbing.”

  “Want me to change it?”

  “I am practically begging you, Lump.”

  “How about ‘Sexual Eruption’? Want that?”

  “Can we listen to something not about sex?”

  “I have ‘Regulate’. I think it’s appropriate. Pass me the CD, it’s in the console.”

  She starts digging in the center console. I roll down the window and flick my ash. “Are you smoking Clove cigarettes?”

  “Yeah,” I take a puff. “Why? Does the smell bother you?”

  “No.” She keeps digging through my stuff. “Just been a long time since I’ve seen one.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve smoked one, to be honest.”

  “Nate Dog? What kind of name is that? You kids these days,” she teases, pulling a CD out and showing it to me.

  “Yeah that shit. Put that in.”

  “I don’t really like this kind of music, Warren.” But she sticks it in anyway.

  “Yeah well, you’re from an era when music hadn’t been invented yet … so …”

  She gives me the finger and relaxes into her seat. I turn up the volume and press the pedal to the floor, accelerating as we hit the highway.

  Lilla laughs and I look over to her, lowering the music some.

  “What’s funny, Honey-girl?”

  “This song is actually interesting. It’s like a story.”

  “Every song is a story.”

  “True, but I can’t grasp what the other rap songs on the radio are about. I like this one, though. And my ears don’t feel like they might bleed, despite the volume being above a safe level.”

  “Wow, you’re old, Lilla.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You know why you like this?”

  “Mm?”

  “Because this song is from the heart. Anything from your heart is impossible to deny.”