Page 5 of Sunrise (Monarch Club #3)

Knox

I’m so fucking fucked. We leave Midnight Run with Sophie sticking close to Vault, being his backpack when she should be mine.

It’s fine. I’m not going to pout. Something shook her up tonight and the only way to find out what happened, is to let her relax.

If holding onto Vault’s waist and snuggling up against his back while we drive through the summer night will help her, so be it.

There are other chances for me to get my turn.

Once home, I pull off my helmet and run my hand through my hair, scratching my scalp. Vault pulls in behind me with Soph, and we head inside my place.

“Ladies first.”

My girl sighs the instant she steps into my home. “I love it here,” she says dreamily.

Vault keeps his mouth shut and kicks his shoes off at the door.

It’s a habit he was raised with. If you were caught wearing shoes in his house growing up, his mom would not only lecture you but give you a mop and make you wash her entire first floor.

At my house, my pops didn’t give a shit—he’d pass out on the couch or bed with his dirty boots on often.

“I’m going to freshen up,” Sophie says, immediately making herself at home. I love that about her.

Once she slips into my bathroom and shuts the door, I pour Vault and I each a glass of water. “We need to talk.”

He nods, draining his glass.

“We need clear boundaries.” Sipping my water, I wait for him to process. He’s crazy smart, but not always great at social cues. Dude’s logical and unemotional with most shit in life. “I’m willing to put aside what happened at the Shibari thing, for—”

“Knox, let me just explain what I—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I whisper-growl. Fucking hell, my temper is a hair-trigger today. “Just drop it. It’s not important tonight. We’re here for her .” I point at the bathroom. “She needs comfort and safety from us. Not two boys fighting over stupid shit.”

Vault looks like he wants to throat punch me. Guess calling the sunrise thing “stupid shit” rubbed him wrong. Oh fucking well. He started it.

“Fine.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his hip against my kitchen counter. “What are your boundaries, then?”

I don’t think I have any. This is new territory for me and I’m clueless about expectations with them both in my bed. “I won’t touch you. You don’t touch me.”

His Adam’s apple bobs big time with his next swallow. Our little staring contest gets more intense. “What if she asks us to?”

“She won’t.” I know that for a fact.

“But if she does?”

Why is he acting like he knows her better than me? “She won’t.”

“But— ”

“Jesus, Alex.” I slip past him and head into the living room.

If Sophie asks us to touch, I’ll do it. It’ll tear me up inside because it’s the one thing I want most, but she’s not going to ask.

She’s been scared tonight. Triggered by something.

That means she wants to be held and kept safe, and nothing more.

This isn’t the first time she’s come to my house for a cuddle sesh in the middle of the night. My girl has nightmares, too. Does Vault know that?

On cue, Sophie comes out wearing a pair of my sweatpants and a T-shirt. They’re too big for her, which makes it extra hot, in my opinion. “You ready for bed?”

She nods and disappears into my dark bedroom.

Vault and I look at each other for a hot second before we follow her. Sophie pulls the covers down and climbs into the middle. Like well-trained dogs, we each take a side and pull the sheets over us. Fully dressed.

“Thank you.” She closes her eyes and tucks up against me, making me feel like a winner. “Happy Birthday, Knox.”

I kiss her head while staring at Vault. “Go to sleep, we’ve got you.”

She drifts off just as I’m falling down memory lane…

“Happy birthday.” Vault pulls out a cake box with a plastic window on top. Icing is smeared all over it and one corner is crushed.

“What did you do, sit on it?”

“It was in my bookbag. Sorry.” He lifts the top off and whatever it said is now a blue blurry mess. “It’ll still taste good.”

Yeah, it will. The scent alone is sugar overload. And it’s chocolate, my favorite. I’m having a sleepover with my best friends and my pops is going to be gone all night at the club, which means we can do whatever we want. I hid a bottle of Wild Turkey in my closet for later.

Vault points at the bruise on my arm. “What’s that from?”

“He had a bad night.”

It’s no secret my pops hits me. I don’t hold it against him.

He’s got PTSD and if something triggers him, there’s no stopping the blows.

He’s not hitting me, he’s fighting his demons.

My mom took off about two years ago because she couldn’t handle it anymore.

I couldn’t just leave him, too. It’s not his fault he’s this way.

I heard him tell a friend that therapy hasn’t helped, so he’s been using other methods lately.

Last night was a bad one though, and the fresh bruise on my arm is going to look worse by tomorrow.

Five minutes later, the rest of the party shows up.

“Happy Birthday, motherfucker.” Dmitri steps into my house with a pillow and a bag of chips.

Ryker’s right behind him. “I ordered a pizza.”

We eat like kings. Music blasts so loud, my windows shake, and we play hours and hours of video games.

Ry lowers the music somewhere around midnight, saying he didn’t want the cops called on us.

I shoveled half the chocolate cake onto my plate earlier and am now working on polishing off the rest that’s left.

Oh shit, I forgot about the Wild Turkey. “Who wants some?”

Dmitri passes.

Ry takes a swig. “Jesus, that’s fucking awful.” He passes it to Vault. “It burns.”

Vault takes a whiff from the bottle and shrugs before taking a massive pull from it, then he passes it over to me. I take a healthy sip, trying my best to not yack it up. This stuff doesn’t mix well with all the junk I’ve eaten.

We finally crash around three in the morning and the room is spinning a little. I have to keep one eye open to make sure I’m not going to fly off the edge of the world. “I ate too much cake.”

“Fucking idiot, you’re drunk,” Dmitri grumbles. He rolls over and pounds his pillow into submission on the floor.

I didn’t have that much booze. I’m just whirly. But I probably shouldn’t have taken those last two chugs. I don’t even know why I did it. I have regrets now. It wasn’t even good. How the hell does my pops drink this shit?

Taking in a deep breath, I stare at nothing until my gaze finally focuses and I realize I’m looking straight at Vault.

He stares back.

Hey, at least I’m not the only drunk at my party. Ryker didn’t take more than a couple sips and I think he fake swallowed. Dmitri never touched it. Vault hung in there with me, though. He’s a good friend like that.

For no good reason, or maybe for every good reason, I lean over and keep staring at him. If I keep moving in like this, we’re going to head butt. Neither of us blink, and the room doesn’t so much as spin but stops existing. We’re closer. A lot fucking closer.

I’ve been wanting to kiss him for months just to see what it’s like.

He helps me with my homework all the time and I stare at his mouth a lot.

He chews on the corner of his bottom lip when he thinks too hard.

It’s cute. And I love how smart he is. I’m trying to keep up with him, which is why he tutors me in both math and science.

He’s at the top of the class at his school.

I’m not a good student. Probably not a good kisser, either .

I should find out.

We’re super close now. He doesn’t back away. We still haven’t blinked.

Fuck it.

I press my mouth to his and it’s everything I thought it would be. Scary, fun, soft and—

He lightly pushes against me, and I ease back.

Shit. I fucked up.

Panic sobers me and I go to make up some stupid bullshit for my behavior, but Vault silences me with the look on his face. He’s… terrified.

No wait. Maybe he’s turned on?

I mean, I’ve got a hard on right now, does he have one too?

What does that look on his fucking face mean?

“Sorry,” I mumble and turn away.

Ryker’s watching us from across the room. He doesn’t say a word, just closes his eyes and pretends to fall asleep. D’s already snoring.

The next morning, I wake up with a pounding headache. It’s afternoon already. Ryker’s playing video games. D’s still passed out.

“Where’s Vault?”

“Left super early.” Ryker doesn’t mention what he saw us do last night. Maybe he didn’t see it at all. Maybe it didn’t even happen, and I made it all up in my head.

I’m never touching Wild Turkey again…

When I wake up the next morning, Sophie is in the kitchen and Vault is nowhere in sight. I feel his absence in my house considerably, which fucks with my head.

“Happy birthday!” She saunters over and hands me a mug with… not coffee in it.

“What is this? ”

“Chocolate lava mug cake?” She looks down at it, confused. “I think that’s what Vault called it. He made it this morning before going back to the Monarch.”

I glance at the clock on the microwave. It’s ten in the morning.

Of course he’d ghost me. It’s what he’s best at.

“How did you sleep, gorgeous?” I kiss Sophie’s temple and grab a spoon while she pours two coffees.

“Like a baby. Thank you for helping me. Again.”

“Any time.”

We sit down at the breakfast bar, and I scoop out a bit of the mug cake and offer her the first bite. “No, you have it, birthday boy.”

It tastes… not awful.

“You did amazing at the show last night, Knox. I know that was difficult for you.”

“Sorry I pitched us off balance and nearly sent us to our untimely deaths.”

She laughs. “Such a drama king.”

I devour half the mug cake. The middle is way better than the top. “Why’d he pick me?”

“Why do you think?”

“To make me suffer.”

Her mug is poised at her mouth, the steam billowing around her beautiful face. Our silence stretches for a long time, and I stuff another spoonful of this chocolate thing into my big fat mouth.

“He’s going through something,” she finally shares.

“We’re all going through something.” I’m not taking the bait. If she was going to reveal the truth, she would have by now. I respect the fact that she’s obviously keeping his confidence, but there’s a terrible part of me that’s jealous because I used to keep his secrets. No one but me .

Hell, I used to be his biggest fucking secret.

“He loves you,” she whispers.

“He’s got a funny way of showing it, then.”

“He wants you.”

I rest the mug on the table and walk away before I throw it up.