Things We Never Got Over

by Lucy Score

  “Wow. Thanks!”

  “Don’t buy too much candy,” I called after her. “We haven’t had dinner yet!”

  She waved over her shoulder, a gesture I assumed meant she had no intention of listening. I turned on Knox.

  “Why are you still here? You’ve shadowed us to every store. You keep checking your phone like you’re a teenager. And you haven’t bought yourself anything. You’re very confusing and annoying.”

  His face remained stony, and he didn’t answer.

  “Fine. I guess I’ll just finish my shopping.”

  Since I was living out of a suitcase, I really did need new underwear. Ducking into Victoria’s Secret wasn’t exactly a ruse to get rid of him. But I figured there was no way on earth Knox Morgan would follow me inside.

  I was shuffling through the sale bin when I felt a grumpy, looming presence. He was standing behind me, arms crossed over his chest. I rolled my eyes and decided to ignore him.

  What I couldn’t ignore was the fact that every time a woman entered the store, she stopped in her tracks and stared.

  I couldn’t blame them. He was unfairly gorgeous. Too bad about the whole terrible personality thing.

  I’d narrowed it down to two pairs of normal ol’ briefs but kept coming back to sigh over a silky pair with lace cutouts on the side and back when a sales associate appeared.

  “Can I get a dressing room started for you?” she asked.

  I thought about it. At least Knox couldn’t follow me into the dressing room.

  “She’ll take these,” he said, snatching the briefs out of my hand and pushing them at the saleswoman.

  My mouth fell open as he dug into the bin and yanked out three more pairs of the impractical, sexy as hell ones. Pink, purple, and red. Then he grabbed a pair of adorable boxer-style undies with red hearts all over them. “And these.”

  He shoved them all at the woman, who gave me a sly grin before marching over to the register.

  “Knox, I’m not buying all those,” I hissed at him.

  “Shut it,” he said and whipped out his credit card.

  “If you think for one second that I’m allowing you to buy me underwear—”

  He cut off my tirade by slinging an arm over my shoulder and covering my mouth with his hand. “Here,” he said, sliding his card across the counter.

  I was squirming against him until he leaned down. “If this is what it takes to get out of this fucking store without passing out from a goddamn hard-on, I’m buying you the fucking underwear.”

  By my count, this was the second time he’d mentioned his man parts having a reaction to me. I wasn’t a big enough liar to pretend I wasn’t happy that he found himself in the same predicament as me: Turned on by the physical, turned off by everything else.

  I stopped squirming when he pulled me in front of him. With my back flush to his front, I could feel the irrefutable evidence of his claim. My body reacted entirely without my brain’s input and went into five-alarm arousal. I worried that I was going to need to be carried out of the store.

  “That was incredibly inappropriate,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest as we left the store, his arm still around me.

  “You wanted me to buy something. I bought something.”

  “Underwear. For me,” I screeched.

  “You look tired,” he said smugly.

  “Tired? I’m exhausted. We’ve walked fifty miles in a mall. I spent every dime and then some. I’m tired. I’m hungry. Most of all, I’m confused, Knox! You’re so mean all the time, and then you show up today and buy me nice underwear?”

  “Maybe you’ll think of me when you wear them,” he said, his gaze scanning ahead of us.

  “You’re the worst.”

  “You’re welcome. We got one more stop,” he said, taking my hand.

  I was tired. Too tired to fight. Too tired to pay attention to what store he dragged me into.

  “Mr. Morgan.” A tall, skinny kid with a dark goatee waved at us. “We just finished up,” he said.

  We were in a cell phone store. I dug my heels in, but Knox merely pulled me forward to the counter.

  “Good timing, Ben.”

  “Here she is,” the kid said, sliding a brand-new phone toward me. “It’s all set up and in the case. If you need any help downloading your old contacts from the cloud, we’ll be happy to help you. Your new number is written inside the box.”

  Baffled, tired, hungry, a little furious, and a lot confused, I stared down at the phone, then up at Knox.

  “Thanks,” Knox said to Ben, then handed me the phone.

  The case had sparkly daisies on it. “You got me a phone?”

  “Let’s go,” he said. “I’m hungry.”

  I let him pull me out of the store, remembering at the door to give Ben a wave and a “thank you.”

  We were halfway to the arcade when my brain started connecting the dots. “You walked me all over this damn mall without complaining just to wear me out so I’d be too tired to fight you on the phone, didn’t you?”

  “Burgers, sushi, or pizza?” he asked.

  “Burgers. Knox?”

  He kept on walking.

  “Knox!” I poked him in the shoulder to get his attention.

  When he looked down at me, he wasn’t smiling and he didn’t look smug. “You needed a phone. I got you one. Don’t make this into a thing.”

  “You call me needy. You yell at me for working at your bar and tell me the only part of me worth spending time with is my body. Then you show up on my shopping trip uninvited and buy me underwear and a really expensive phone.”

  “That about sums it up, minus the only part of you worth spending time with.”

  “Are you always this…this inconsistent? This confusing?”

  He stopped walking and looked down at me. “No, Naomi. I’m not always this fucking inconsistent. And I blame you. I don’t want to be into you. I don’t want to spend an entire day wandering around a goddamn mall and fighting traffic for you. I sure as hell don’t want to watch you try on underwear. But I also don’t want you home alone when there’s some guy back in Knockemout looking for you.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Some guy? Who is it?”

  “Dunno. Justice and Wraith are taking care of it. They’ll call Nash in if they need to,” he said grimly.

  “What do you mean ‘taking care of it’?” I had visions of bodies and tarps and duct tape.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  I started laughing and kept right on going. I couldn’t help it. I’d spent the last four years in a relationship where I took care of everything. Every dinner reservation. Every vacation. Every load of laundry. Every grocery run.

  Here I was in town for less than two weeks, and the grumpy guy who mostly hated me had just taken care of me.

  Maybe someday I’d find a guy who both liked me and was willing to share the burden of taking care. Or maybe I would just end up alone like Tina had always predicted.

  “You having some kind of breakdown? ’Cause I sure as hell have better things to do than watch that.”

  “Oh, good,” I said, smothering my hysteria. “Grumpy Knox is back. What does this guy look like?”

  “According to Justice, he looks like some dude named Henry Golding.”

  “Henry Golding the hot actor or Henry Golding some local biker?” It was a very important distinction.

  “I don’t know any Henry Golding biker. But this guy showed up at the cafe asking for you. Justice said he about lost it when he saw your sister’s mug shot behind the register.”

  I was never going to live this down.

  “You know him?”

  It was my turn to be evasive. “Can we get Waylay and go for those burgers?”

  SIXTEEN

  THE INFAMOUS STEF

  Naomi

  On the way home, I programmed Nina’s dads’ numbers into my shiny, new phone. They were not the first numbers in there. Knox had already programmed contacts for Liza, Honky
Tonk, Sherry, Waylay’s school, and Café Rev.

  There was even one for himself.

  I didn’t know what that said or meant. And frankly, I was too damn tired to worry about it. Especially when I had a bigger problem.

  That bigger problem was sitting on the front steps of the cottage with a glass of wine.

  “Stay in the truck,” Knox growled.

  But I was already halfway out. “It’s fine. I know him.”

  Waylay, crammed in the backseat with all our purchases, rolled down her window and stuck her head out. “Who’s that?”

  “That’s Stef,” I said.

  He put down the wine and opened his arms.

  I ran into them. Stefan Liao was the world’s perfect man. He was smart, funny, thoughtful, outrageously generous, and so pretty it hurt to look directly at him. The only son of a real estate-developing father and an app-developing mother, he was born with an entrepreneurial spirit and exquisite taste in everything.

  And somehow I’d gotten lucky enough to land him as a best friend.

  He swept me up in his arms and twirled me around.

  “I’m still incredibly pissed at you,” he said with a grin.

  “Thank you for loving me even when you’re pissed,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and breathing in his expensive cologne.

  Just seeing him, hugging him, made me feel more grounded.

  “You gonna introduce me to Blondie and the Beast?” Stef asked.

  “Not done hugging yet,” I insisted.

  “Hurry it up. Beast looks like he wants to shoot me.”

  “He’s more of a Viking than a beast.”

  Stef tilted my head back with his hands and planted a kiss on my forehead. “It’s all gonna be fine. I promise.”

  Tears stung my eyes. I believed him. And the relief I felt from that was enough to release Niagara Falls of tears.

  “Where do you want your shit?” Knox growled.

  That was enough to dry up Niagara Falls. I spun around and found him standing only a foot away. “Seriously?”

  “Got things to do, Daze. Don’t have all night to stand around watching you make out with Henry Golding.”

  “Henry Golding? Nice,” Stef said.

  “Waylay, come meet my friend,” I called.

  High from her shopping, arcade, and burger experience, Waylay forgot to look annoyed.

  “Waylay Witt. Knox Morgan. This is Stefan Liao. Stef for short. Way for short. And Leif Erikson when he’s being moody.”

  Stef grinned. Knox growled. Waylay admired Stef’s shiny smartwatch.

  “The pleasure is all mine. You look like your aunt,” Stef said to Waylay.

  “Really?” Waylay looked not too horrified by that statement, and I wondered if my shopping bribery had worked its magic. Score.

  Knox, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to dismember Stef.

  “What’s your problem?” I mouthed at him.

  He glared at me as if I was the one to blame for his sudden mood swing.

  “Knox,” Stef said, holding out a hand. “I can’t thank you enough for looking out for my girl here.”

  Knox grunted and stared at the offered hand for a beat before shaking it.

  The handshake went on longer than necessary.

  “Why are their fingers turning white?” Waylay asked me.

  “It’s a man thing,” I explained.

  She looked skeptical. “Like pooping for forty-five minutes?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” I said.

  The handshake was finally over, and both men were now locked in a staring contest. If I wasn’t careful, the penises and rulers would be next.

  “Knox very graciously took us shopping today,” I explained to Stef.

  “He bought me pink sneakers and he bought Aunt Naomi underwear and a phone.”

  “Thank you for that information, Way. Why don’t you go inside and not talk anymore?” I suggested, giving her a shove toward the house.

  “That depends. Can I have the last ice cream sandwich?”

  “It’s yours as long as you stuff it in your mouth instead of talking.”

  “Pleasure doing business with you. See ya, Knox!”

  He was already halfway back to his truck.

  “Don’t leave on my account,” Stef called after him.

  Knox didn’t say anything, but I did hear some sort of growl coming from his general direction. “Hang on a second,” I said to Stef. “He’s got the better part of a mall in his back seat, and I don’t want him to drive off with it.”

  I caught him just as he was opening his door.

  “Knox. Wait!”

  “What? I’m busy. I have shit to do.”

  “Can you give me one minute to get Waylay’s department store out of your back seat?”

  He muttered a few colorful expletives and yanked open the back door. I looped as many bags as I could over my wrists before his frustration took over. He marched all the new stuff to the porch and set it in a pile next to Stef.

  “You did get new underwear,” Stef said, sneaking a peek into the Victoria’s Secret bag.

  Another low growl emanated from the vicinity of Knox’s chest, and then he was storming back to his truck.

  I rolled my eyes and ran after him.

  “Knox?”

  “Christ, woman,” he said, rounding on me. “Now what?”

  “Nothing. Just… Thank you for everything today. It meant the world to Waylay. And me.”

  When I turned to leave, his hand shot out and caught my wrist. “Future reference, Daze. My problem is always you.”

  I don’t know why I did what I did next, but I did it. I raised on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  He was still standing there when Stef and I walked inside with a dozen shopping bags between us.

  With Waylay asleep in a shopping-induced coma, I changed into pajamas and wondered why in the world I’d left my closet doors wide open. Then decided it had probably been Waylay. I was surprised at the effect an additional human had on a household. Toothpaste tubes were squeezed haphazardly in the middle. Snacks disappeared. And the TV remote was never where I left it.

  I closed the closet doors firmly and returned downstairs.

  The back door was open, and through the screen, I saw Stef on the porch. He’d turned my back porch into a citronella candle fantasy land.

  “You can’t tell my parents about any of this yet,” I said without preamble as I stepped out onto the porch.

  Stef looked up from the tray of fancy meats and cheeses he was organizing on the picnic table. “Why would you even say that? I’m always Team Naomi,” he said

  “I know you talk to them.”

  “Just because your mom and I have a standing date at the spa every month doesn’t mean I’d rat you out, Witty. Besides, I didn’t tell them I was coming.”

  “I just haven’t figured out how to tell them about Waylay. It took me an hour on the phone after I pulled a runaway bride before Mom agreed to still go on the trip. I know if I were to tell them what was going on, they’d be off the boat and on a plane in a second.”

  “That does sound like something your parents would do,” he agreed, handing me a glass of wine. The man had brought an entire case with him. “Your beast wants to devour you like a dozen hot wings.”

  I flopped down on the lawn chair next to him. “How is that the first thing you say to me?”

  “It’s the most pressing.”

  “Not ‘why did you leave Warner at the altar?’ Or ‘what the hell were you thinking answering your sister’s call for help?’”

  He propped his long legs on the railing. “You know I never liked Warner. I was ecstatic when you pulled the disappearing act. I only wish you would have let me in on it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said lamely.

  “Stop saying you’re sorry.”

  “I’m s—our?”

  “You’re the one who has to live your life. Don’t apologize to other people
for the decisions you make for yourself.”

  My voice of reason best friend. No judgments. No second-guessing. Just unconditional love and support…and the occasional truth bomb. He was one in a billion.

  “You’re right. As usual. But I still should have let you know I was pulling a runaway bride.”

  “You definitely should have. Although, I did get great pleasure seeing Warner’s mother break the news to him in front of the entire congregation. Watching them both trying not to freak out to keep their porcelain reputation intact was comedic. Besides, I took one of the groomsmen home.”

  “Which one?”

  “Paul.”

  “Nice. He looked good in his tux,” I mused.

  “He looked better out of it.”

  “Hey-oh!”

  “Speaking of hot sex. Back to the beast.”

  I choked on my wine. “There’s no sex happening with the beast. He called me ‘needy’ and ‘uppity’ and a ‘pain in his ass.’ He’s rude. He’s constantly yelling at me or complaining about me. Telling me I’m not his type. As if I wished I were his type,” I scoffed.

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Because he lives right there,” I said, pointing my glass in the direction of Knox’s cabin.

  “Oooh. Grumpy next-door neighbor. That’s one of my favorite tropes.”

  “The first time he met me, he called me trash.”

  “That bitch.”

  “Well, technically he thought I was Tina when he was yelling at me in front of an entire cafe full of strangers.”

  “That vision-impaired bitch.”

  “God, I love you.” I sighed.

  “Back at you, Witty. So, to clarify, you’re definitely not sleeping with the hot, grumpy, tattooed neighbor who took you shopping for underwear and a phone?”

  “I am five thousand percent definitely not sleeping with Knox. And he only went shopping with us because there were reports of a man in town looking for me.”

  “You’re telling me he’s a grumpy, overprotective hottie next-door and you’re not going to sleep with him? How wasteful.”

  “How about instead of talking about Knox, I’ll tell you why I burned rubber out of the church parking lot and ended up homeless in Knockemout?”