My Number One: Kasha & Knox Read Online Free Page A

more minutes, we eased up, eventually getting to our feet. Knox busied himself with my hair and peach sundress. He pressed his palms to my cheeks, only to slide two fingers down to my chin and lips.
    His touch sparked something foreign in me. I wanted to keep him close, to always be at one. He ignited a desire, an energy, a longing I’d never known; one that I never knew existed either. This scared the life out of me.
    Every time I got comfortable, I literally heard Ma’s voice. Her reminders of what could and what should never be helped maintain my sanity.
    “You’re not good enough for love.”
    “Don’t expect to fall in love.”
    “Love only leads to heartbreak.”
    “Guard your heart because giving it away will only lead to disappointment.”
    Mom’s words became more real to me than the guy attempting to soothe my cares at this very moment. I twisted out of his grip, and willed myself away.
    “You can’t leave again without giving up your number, or at least taking mine.” I moved like the world was on my shoulders, cautious and worn down. Even as his eyes begged me to give in, I knew better. Ma’s words should’ve been my guide on how to navigate the universe, but Knox stepped closer. He wore me down by simply being this remarkable guy.
    ~
    The following week, as I prepared for an interview at a local community center, my iPhone buzzed. Not many people texted me; in fact, not many had my number. Then I remembered him and my heart jumped.
    Knox: Lunch? Dinner? Whatever?
    We’d exchanged numbers at Chesapeake early that morning when Knox had let me crash onto him instead of into the river. I couldn’t bring myself to be the one. Even when a guy shows some kind of interest, you never truly know what he’s really after. That night, he’d used my phone to call his. Went so far as to attach his name to the number, to make sure it was saved. I was frickin’ out of touch with all things related to dating.
    When I left home in Port St. Lucie, I’d walked away from a guy I once swore was “my future”. That time seemed like a long forgotten dream; actually, personal nightmare was more realistic. Everything I once treasured died. In a way, so did I. But this guy Knox fed a need I thought was buried. Then just as suddenly, as light funneled into my dark world, another text came in.
    Mom: Please call .
    The request was her way of demanding my immediate attention. Communicating with my mother before an interview wasn’t wise. Unlucky for me, she was ultra-persistent.
    “Mom?”
    “Are you planning to move back down here anytime soon?” She spoke like we were in a business meeting.
    From the window in my bedroom, a cool breeze whisked in. Good thing, because my pulse rate increased. I exhaled into the line. “Mom, you know I’m not coming, and maybe never moving, back to Florida. No.” What would be the purpose? Van aside, I needed to be away.
    “Fine. I hope you’re not whoring again.”
    My thumb itched to slide across the bottom of the screen, and forget I ever had a mother. I didn’t need a reminder that I was born to her. Being my only remaining parent, claiming zero paternity might work. Let’s just say osmosis.
    “Mom, I’m heading out for an interview.”
    “Doing what exactly?” she barked.
    “Training with a social worker.” I paused for the courage to proceed. “I’m training to be a counselor.”
    “Counsel who?” Mom burst into my ear.
    “Are you kidding me?”
    “Kasha, dear, listen to me. Don’t aim high. Happiness is only meant for good people.” She literally got choked up between the laughter and words. My insides dropped. A wave of sadness flushed over me. But then she stated, “And even if you’re fortunate enough to find happiness . . . it won’t last.”
    The phone slipped through my fingers. Could life be so cruel to bait anyone with the promise of a happily ever after only to rip them apart in the process? I absolutely hated my mother’s world. I couldn’t