“Sure it does. Tell me.”
Riley slid into the chair opposite. “He was scared he’d die a virgin.”
Biting back the urge to giggle—because omigod, this was too impactful a story to allow a snicker to break free—Madison said, “Makes sense to me. That would be a big deal to a teenage boy.” Obviously not dying a virgin had been every bit as important to Knox as not dying at all. Fear was a very personal thing. You might not fully understand someone else’s fear, but it had to be respected. More than that, it had to be reckoned with.
Knox’s eyes, burning with a fire that surprised her a bit, met hers. His grip tightened. “It was. It was a huge-ass deal. Thanks for spilling, Ry.”
“No point glossing over the details. If you’re telling her, tell her everything. Here, I’ll balance the scales.” He slammed his plate down on the table hard enough to make the popcorn dance across the plate. “I was scared that I didn’t know enough to keep us alive. Griffin was scared he wouldn’t be able to get us all out of there.”
“Which translates to me ultimately being scared that Knox would die a virgin, too,” Griffin said dryly as he sat in the recliner.
“Oh, very funny. Hey, if my virginity was motivation enough for you to pull your head out of your ass and lead us to safety, then we should probably raise a toast to my untried dick of those days.”
Madison got that they all shared a gallows humor about the event. But she could also tell that, even after all this time, it was still an open wound for Knox. Wow. It certainly explained his approach to women as an all-you-can-take buffet. Talk about making up for lost time. Knox had evidently devoted his life, consciously or not, to proving to himself, the world, or both that he’d darned well die as far from being a virgin as possible.
That was an obvious and severe detriment to his husband potential. Sure, she’d known about his affliction before this. But learning that it was rooted in trauma made it far more difficult to combat.
Right this minute, though, Knox needed positivity. Affirmation. So she raised her beer high. “I’d far rather toast to the spectacular work it does now. It sure takes me to a safe and happy place.”
“Well said,” murmured Chloe. “You’ll forgive me for not joining in the toast to another man’s penis right in front of my boyfriend.” She placed a plate near Madison and settled on Griffin’s lap.
“Certainly.”
The guys looked at Madison like she’d lost her mind. All except Knox, who toasted her in return. He looked a tiny bit less grim, too. “How did you survive?”
“We stayed in a cave for a day and a night. Griff popped Ry’s dislocated shoulder back into place. Cats in heat screech less than Ry did.”
“I only screamed once. Then I blacked out.”
Josh snickered. “Fainting doesn’t make you come off as any less of a girl.”
Knox pushed up to start pacing the length of the luxury suite. “Josh kept passing out from his head injury. That was…disconcerting. Let’s just say our situation obviously wasn’t going to improve. So Griff herded us down the mountain. We walked for another day and night until, on day three, stuck on this narrow pass, Logan swooped in with a rescue squad.”
They were all so brave for not giving up. For ignoring the facts and the odds and persevering. The fact that Griffin had kept that will to live so strong in all of them, had forced and inspired them to not give up, swamped Madison with admiration. “You kept them going.”
“We kept one another going,” he corrected.
Geez. Couldn’t he just take the compliment? Was there something in the hero rulebook that forbade them from taking a victory lap? “Modesty is pointless, Lieutenant.”
“It’s not modesty. I wouldn’t have found the strength within myself if not for these men. My brothers.” Then he jammed his wrist across the crook of his other arm, in the centuries-old European manner of flipping the bird. “And the desire to kick Logan’s ass for not being there to suffer along with us.”
Oh, right. They’d glossed over that part. Madison swiveled back to face Knox. “Where was he?”
It was Griffin who shook his head in answer. “That’s another story. His story.”
Which made it all the more mysterious and intriguing. And why wasn’t he here now? Clearly she’d have to try and worm it out of her boyfriend. Mmm. Classifying the tall, dark, and delicious Knox as her boyfriend sent a possessive thrill through Madison. One that she’d keep entirely to herself, so as not to send him running. He had no trouble acting the part. But, boy oh boy, would that label ever throw him for a loop!
Knox came back to sit on the arm of the sofa, his leg touching Madison’s. With its proximity, she couldn’t resist curving her fingers around his knee to whisk over the crisp, dark hairs. “The point is that once we got off that mountain, the press swarmed us. We were already a big deal over there for knocking the European and South American teams out of the tournament. They branded us the Americani Calcio Sopravvissuti, or the ACSs. American Soccer Survivors.”
The initials sounded pretty hot chanted by a whole stadium, but the actual name? The headline writers clearly had an off day with that one. “Not the greatest nickname ever,” she intoned slowly.
“Not by a long shot. It loses just about everything in translation. Makes it sound like we survived a rampage by a rabid soccer ball that came to life and terrorized the team.”
“But it stuck.” Josh’s blond eyebrows drew together into a single thunderous line. “Like the fucking press did. They hounded us back across the Atlantic, all through our heroes’ welcome at home, and the months of our recovery. We couldn’t shake ’em. Still can’t.”
Riley leaned forward with his eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Just when we’re sure that nobody else in the world could possibly give a damn, they pop up. The press, and/or people who recognize and remember us. At things like graduations. When Knox was on the cover of Time magazine in their inventors issue.”
“Don’t lay this at my feet. Remember who brought the press running just a few months ago?” Knox scooped up the popcorn from Madison’s plate and tossed it at Griffin. “A certain rescue that got filmed and went viral?”
“If it hadn’t gone viral, Griff wouldn’t have been grounded.” Chloe pursed her lips. Shook her head. “Sorry, boys, but you’ll have to suck up that press hit. It brought Griffin and me together. You can’t be mad at him when it ended in true love.”
That brought a round of kissy noises from the men. Madison brought her hands to her heart and beamed at Chloe. Clearly she’d found a kindred spirit. But she did wonder why they weren’t engaged yet.
Knox pointed down the sofa. “Okay, if Chloe’s forcing us to give Griff a pass, then we’ll be mad at Josh for opening his big mouth and causing today’s ruckus.”
“I didn’t think.” Josh put his hands up in a mea culpa. “Honest mistake. And it was over fast, thanks to Madison being on the ball.”
“Oh, I was happy to help. I didn’t exactly martyr myself kissing this one, you know.” Without even realizing it, her fingers had traced the hem of his shorts and were sliding underneath it. Sheesh. Had it really been only five days since they were together? She yanked her hand down to her lap. Except that wouldn’t combat the irresistible lure of Knox’s skin. So Madison picked up her plate. Picked up her beer. And vowed not to put either down until he moved out of reach.
“Feel free to reenact that anytime.” Knox leaned behind her to drop a kiss on the nape of her neck that cascaded chills down both arms. “Without the Jumbotron, though.”
“Really? Here I thought men were all about anything associating them with the word jumbo.”
“Show, don’t tell. That’s my motto,” snickered Josh.
Riley leaned back. Crossed his ankles and huffed out a breath. “People—the press—dredge up the past every damn time. We hate it.”
To say that Madison had no frame of reference for this gripe would be the understatement of the century. She’d spent most of her lif
e in the middle of nowhere. The thought of people with cameras trying to trail someone through waist-high snowdrifts just made her smile at its absurdity. As much as it obviously mattered to Knox, though, she’d need to wrap her head around it.
“Why do you hate it?” Still holding everything, Madison shifted to fully face Knox. “I mean, sure, they’re intrusive and annoying. But it doesn’t sound like you’re being stalked by paparazzi. You can fill up your gas tank without any hue and cry, or being forced to wear a disguise. Your day-to-day life isn’t generally disturbed, is it?”
“No. That’s not it.” Knox’s gaze did a quick sweep across the faces of his friends. None of them seemed inclined to get him off the hot seat. He cracked his neck. Tilted his head back. Sighed. “I guess they make me feel like a fraud. They tried to turn us into these heroes. These role models. They act like we’re worthy of the world’s attention for what happened those three days in the Alps.”
“You absolutely are worthy.” Now that she knew the story, Madison wanted to hug each of them. Comfort them for all they’d suffered and perhaps still did from such a life-altering experience. Not to mention give them a standing ovation for overcoming the innumerable odds stacked against them. These men humbled and impressed her. On top of all that, they were decent guys with interesting jobs and a friendship that was enviable. It wasn’t any wonder the media put them on a pedestal. They deserved it.
“No.” Knox shoved up to resume pacing. “Everything we did was self-centered. We wanted to live. I wanted to live long enough to have sex, for Christ’s sake! We didn’t risk ourselves to save a dying puppy or anything. We saved ourselves. We walked out of there with our lives. That’s reward enough.”
“And each other,” Chloe added softly.
Griffin gave her a peck on the cheek. “Yeah. So we definitely don’t deserve anything else.”
Okay. Fine. Madison got their self-effacing humility. She disagreed with it, but acknowledged what Knox felt. Which made the phenomenon of Naked Men all the more confusing. “I don’t understand the dichotomy you’ve set up. You’re not hiding from the press. For goodness sake, you willingly contracted to do an internationally broadcast show. Isn’t that counterintuitive if you want to go unnoticed?”
Riley’s hand erased the question from the air. “We don’t use last names on the blog. It got leaked a few years ago, but the furor over us being the ACSs died down and we got back to just concentrating on keeping Naked Men exactly what it had always been. Figured since it’s radio, we could be sort of faceless on the podcast, too.”
Seriously? Madison whipped her gaze around all of the men. Bit back a laugh. Blinked. Blinked again to garner extra time to figure out just how to call them idiots without…well, actually saying it. “Your photos are on bus stops. Buses. Subway cars. Who knows where else? For smart men, that’s a blindingly stupid assumption.”
There was a moment of utter silence. Or as silent as it could be with thirty thousand fans on the other side of the Plexiglas. Madison wondered if she’d crossed a line. Were the Naked Men the only ones allowed to call themselves out?
Then Knox chuffed out a harsh laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. It’s goddamned fucking stupid of us.” He sank onto the couch, tilted his head back, and laughed some more. Everyone joined in, all wearing the same looks of chagrin. Finally, Knox threw an arm around Madison to pull her into his side. “Thanks for pointing that out. We needed the reality check. Especially since it’s obvious this is going to happen more as the show gains notoriety. Maybe now we can try and roll with it a little more. Seeing as how we created the problem ourselves this time around.”
Whew. Madison was relieved that her semi-insulting—albeit true—comment hadn’t ruffled any feathers. In fact, this had been a remarkably productive trip to the ballpark so far. She and Knox were back together, he’d shared something deeply personal with her, she’d met and liked the most important people in his life, and she’d discovered that he took criticism pretty darn well. Definitely a whole handful of points in the yes column for Knox being marriage material.
A knock sounded on the door. Josh got up. “We buried our heads in the sand like ostriches and hoped nobody would notice.” He let in the caterer pushing a tray filled with silver chafing dishes that smelled amazing from across the room.
“Ostriches don’t really bury their heads in the sand when embarrassed or scared,” Chloe piped up. “They’re actually turning the eggs in their nests, buried for safety.” At Griffin’s bemused eyebrow raise, she continued. “One of those travel posters on my living room wall is for Kenya. I want to go there primarily to see the waterfalls, but there’s also a huge Maasai ostrich farm.”
“There’s an idea for your honeymoon, Griff—ostriches. Oh, wait, you need a wedding to go on a honeymoon.” Josh lifted each lid, giving the contents an approving nod.
Knox snuggled Madison closer, running his big hand up and down her forearm in lazy strokes that stirred her insides in anything but a lazy way. “Chloe, you ever going to decide if you want to clip Griff’s wings for good?”
“Don’t rush us,” she said calmly. “And stop poking at Griffin about it. Maybe spend a little more time on falling in love yourself. It’d do you good.”
Knox’s hand stilled. And Madison beamed at Chloe. It appeared that the day had also netted her an ally in her single-minded march to the altar.
Chapter 12
Knox stood in the open space smack dab in the middle of the office. The leasing agent had been flummoxed by his request to knock out an entire row of cubicles and put nothing in their place. And he sure hadn’t been about to explain the sort of testing they planned to do in it. Things like today.
When he’d opened the box containing the experimental hoverboard, it’d been tempting to take it home and show the guys. But playing with it wouldn’t be enough. No, he needed to test it here, in front of like-minded nerds who would appreciate the science behind it every bit as much as the flat-out coolness of it.
“Here, boss.” Clark, a short man who wore his pocket protector with the same sartorial swagger as Knox wore his double-pointed black and white silk pocket square, handed over a bike helmet. “You should wear this.”
“No.”
Rose sneered at Clark over the rims of the orange cats-eye glasses Knox knew for a fact to be fake. She did it about ten times a day that Knox saw, which meant the actual stats were probably way higher. Guess she saw Clark as competition. Which was weird, since Davies Enterprises wasn’t a corporate-ladder type of place.
Or maybe he hadn’t made that clear? That it was all about throwing ideas into a communal pot, not hoarding your own to rocket to the top. Because one person might have a game-changing idea. But it was damn certain it’d take a whole handful of other people to see it to fruition. Translating imagination and vision took teamwork. Being brilliant didn’t exempt you from playing well with others. Was that supposed to be in his mission statement? Did he need to come up with a mission statement?
Damn it, Madison’s touchy-feely business approach was like mold spreading across his ingrained habits. She’d infected him with second thoughts. Knox never indulged in second thoughts. It was a matter of principle. Somebody with his brainpower simply shouldn’t require a second go-around to make a decision.
“It’s a hoverboard, Clark, not a jet pack.” Rose crouched to waggle her fingers just above the carpet. “Meant to glide mere inches above the ground. Even you couldn’t get a concussion riding it.”
Clark’s face fell. Shit. Did Rose’s constant jibes actually bother the guy? Did he have a morale problem on his hands? Knox outsourced all his HR to an off-site company. The last thing he wanted was to worry about interpersonal dynamics at the office.
This was supposed to be a place of pure science. No fantasy league betting on chess matches, no rounds at the Irish pub around the corner with the gang. It was a temple to thinking, discovery, engineering, and code.
And, of course, the place that filled his bank ac
count. His retirement account. His mother’s bank account, her travel fund, and the secret Swiss account—because the Swiss were more classic than the sketchy offshore Caribbean accounts—that gave him the peace of mind to sleep at night.
All those things made it Knox’s happy place. Or it had been, until Madison made him start worrying about things like the interaction between Clark and Rose. On the bright side, if he stuck with his plan to sell it, they’d be outta sight, outta mind.
Still…they were people. His people. Ones he’d handpicked to be on his team. So maybe he was a little bit responsible for making sure they felt as good here every day as he did. If Knox had been at a club, or playing soccer, or basically anyplace besides his company, he’d never ignore someone looking so crushed. No reason making money hand over fist had to cancel out basic human decency.
Damn it. Knox patted the helmet, hand-stenciled with the Avengers logo, then pushed it back toward Clark with a hopefully appreciative smile. “Thanks for watching out for me. But I’d lose the respect of the entire team if I safety-geared up to ride a glorified skateboard.”
Stubbornly Clark shoved the helmet back at Knox. “The board’s experimental, at best. Full of flaws, which is why they sent it to you to debug. It could go wild and crazy and take a chunk out of the ceiling.”
Yeah.
It was going to be awesome.
“I play soccer every week. My suits don’t fit right if I don’t have at least a handful of swollen bruises on my extremities.” Knox didn’t care about his safety. He did, however, care about his white suit. So he removed the jacket and carefully draped it over the nearest clear acrylic desk. After thinking about the possibility that things could go epically wrong, he tugged off his black tie, too. Nobody wanted their epitaph to read strangled by tie caught in mag locks of a hoverboard.
Guess Clark managed to raise the paranoia level a bit in the room. The circle of his employees had backed off considerably once he returned to the middle of it. Chickens. They’d all be clamoring to go next once he proved it wasn’t dangerous.
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