Filed To Story: The Perfect Spiral Book PDF Free by Ashley Constantine
But I didn’t. It felt good to be wanted after what Drew had just done to me. And then I remembered-I was still wearing the black lingerie under my hoodie. Suddenly, I wanted to see how he’d react to it.
He was so close now I could smell him-clean and warm, like cedarwood and something distinctly male. His shoulder brushed mine, and when I turned my head, our faces were only inches apart.
My breath caught as Knox leaned in a little more, his lips hovering near mine, his eyes fixed like I was the only girl left in the world.
His breath was warm on my lips, his eyes locked on mine. Our faces were so close now, I could feel the heat of his body. A thrill of anticipation raced through me, the same wild flutter I used to feel when he came over for sleepovers in high school.
Back then, it was all whispers through the walls and stolen glances in the kitchen when my brothers weren’t looking. Now we were alone. Just the two of us, no interruptions or brothers, nothing to stop the kiss I’d dreamed about since I was a teenager.
BANG BANG BANG.
We both jumped. A fan was grinning through the window, phone already up, practically vibrating with excitement. “Holy shit, it’s Knox Carter! Dude, can I get a pic?!”
Knox didn’t move for a second, like he was trying to will the moment back into place. But it was gone. We both felt it.
He let out a quiet sigh, then climbed out of the car. “Yeah, man. Sure.”
I pushed open the door and started walking toward the building. Then I heard his voice behind me. “Alex, wait. I’ll walk you up.”
“That’s okay,” I said, suddenly just wanting this whole crazy night to end. “I need some sleep.”
He nodded, then asked, “You gonna come to the game next week?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
His brows drew together. “Maybe? You’re seriously gonna play coy right now?”
I blinked. “It’s not about being coy, Knox. I just-“
He laughed bitterly. “You should be thanking me. I literally saved you back there.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“Message received,” he said with his jaw clenched. “I’m late for a date with one of the hottest pop stars on the planet, so I’ve got to go.”
“You’re free to go,” I said, giving him a sarcastic wave goodbye. The tires squealed as he pulled away, leaving me to stomp into my building, pissed. Between Drew and Knox, fuck men!
Before I could even put my key in my apartment door, my roommate Andy flung it open and shouted, “WHAT THE HELL, ALEX?! WAS THAT KNOX CARTER?!”
I didn’t even answer. I just walked past her, tossed my purse on the couch, and collapsed on my bed.
Andy burst into my room holding up an issue of GQ. “You seriously got out of this man’s car?” she demanded, waving the magazine in my face. Knox’s face stared back at me from the glossy cover-smoldering, perfect. His dark hair was damp, his sculpted arms on full display, a football strategically placed over his lower half while beads of sweat trickled down his abs.
“Look at him! The jawline, the arms, the damn glisten-Alex, there’s actual glisten.” Andy swooned, clutching the magazine to her chest like it might escape.
I rolled my eyes, but a tiny part of me-the part that remembered the weight of his gaze just hours ago-tingled. “He’s my brother’s best friend. Our families had always been ridiculously close. His mom and mine had grown up together in Savannah, childhood besties who somehow reconnected when my family moved to the Upper West Side. Our brothers were basically attached at the hip.”
“I’d like to be attached to his hip,” Andy said.
I laughed, but then explained how he basically tortured me as a kid. And he was the leading man-slut at our high school, leaning all the way into the star football player role. “I know he’s hot as hell on the covers, but believe me, his personality ruins the rating.”
“Personality is optional when the man looks like a Greek god thirst trap. I’m here for the abs, the arms, the smolder.”
“He does smolder with the best of them.”
What I didn’t tell her was that Knox had been my first kiss. When I was fourteen and Knox was sixteen, we played spin the bottle. Fate-or rather, the spin of the bottle-forced us into a closet together for what was supposed to be seven minutes in heaven.
Knox and I shared a heated make-out session in that closet. It was as if neither of us wanted it to end. It left my stomach in knots, and we were both breathless when we pulled away, startled by a loud banging noise from outside the closet. It was Kyle, practically dragging us out of the closet well before seven minutes was up.
Andy was still going on about Knox when my phone started vibrating on the nightstand, making both of us jump. I groaned and grabbed it. The screen lit up: Drew.
Drew
Let me explain. It’s not what it looked like
Drew
I miss you, please come back! Don’t give up on us. Please give me another chance. I’m willing to fight for you, for us! Babe please answer me! I love you too much to let this all go.
Drew
Fine! Be like that and don’t answer me!
Drew
Baby, I’m sorry I know I messed up, but please know I love you more than anything! Take me back!
Andy peeked over my shoulder, eyes narrowing. “Wait… what the hell is he talking about?”
I spent the rest of the evening curled up with Andy on my bed, retelling everything that had happened. There were a lot of tears and a lot of hugs, and Andy’s sarcastic one-liners had me feeling better by the time we were ready for sleep.
Alone in my room, I tugged off the sweatpants and then sadly removed the lingerie I didn’t get to use. Then I reached for my favorite shirt to sleep in, an oversized jersey with Carter written on the back. Knox’s mom was so proud of him that she sent me a jersey with his name and number on the back. It’s super comfy and warm, which is the only reason I wear it.
God, if Knox ever knew I wore his jersey to bed, he’d never let me hear the end of it.
***
The next morning, Andy insisted we go to the salon. “New hair, new chapter,” she’d declared, dragging me out of bed before I could protest. She said it was a breakup survival essential, and honestly? She was right.
Works out too, because there’s a party tonight. Wes had invited us. Like Knox, he’s another one of my brother’s best friends from high school. We came to the same college and he’d always looked out for me, under strict orders from my brother. My brothers and their friends were all overly protective, treating me like a delicate china doll. It used to annoy me, and it still does.
Wes was tall and athletic, a soccer player for the college team. His current injury meant he was off the field, but in his words, “I can party every night now.”
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