I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath as my head continues to pound. “Nope,” I squeak out.
“Shit, okay. What can I do?”
“Shut the door.”
“Sure.” He gets up and shuts the door. He returns to my side and strokes my forehead with his thumb. “What else? Can I get you anything to eat, drink? Any medicine? Heating pads?”
“No. Can’t think about eating anything right now.”
“Understandable. Have you thrown up again?”
“Oh God, they told you that?”
“Yeah, and I’m glad they did. My mom had headaches like this, and do you know what would help her?”
“What?” I ask, draping my hand over my head.
“My dad. He always helped.” I hear Knox kick off his shoes and then he climbs over me so he’s behind me. He scoots under the covers carefully, obviously trying not to rock the mattress too much, and slides his body against mine. “Is it okay if I hold you?”
“When have you ever cared about asking?” I chuckle.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
He’d never hurt me. I know that at this point. Abandoning a party to make sure I was okay? That’s coming from a man who doesn’t have a hurtful bone in his body.
And honestly, at this point, there’s no fight left in me. It seems inevitable. No matter how hard I try to keep my distance, he’s going to be in my life.
“I’m not going to break,” I tell him, and then I take a leap of faith. “Hold me, Knox. I want you to hold me.”
His hand slides around my stomach and instead of pulling me into his chest, he moves his body closer to mine carefully. How he knows not to rattle me too much is astounding. Never once did Neil care for me in this compassionate, thoughtful, and selfless way. Knox’s touch is gentle, soothing, and when he finally fits himself along my body, I can feel my muscles start to relax, and I melt into him.
“Is that okay?” he whispers, his voice like a velvety caress over my bare shoulder.
“Perfect,” I sigh. “Thank you.”
He kisses my shoulder and says, “Get some sleep, Em. I’m not going anywhere.”
And he doesn’t.
The first thing that wakes me up the next morning isn’t the sun beaming through my dorm window, nor is it Lindsay’s morning jams subtly coming through the wall. It’s the large hand that’s splayed across my stomach, a gentle thumb moving up and down the silk fabric of my camisole.
My migraine is gone, but my muscles are still tense in my neck, which always happens, but I’ll take it over the incessant pounding in my head.
“Are you awake?” Knox’s voice whispers, his breath minty fresh, his body lying on top of the covers.
I peek an eye open to find him hovering over me, a concerned look on his face.
I bring my sheet up to my mouth and say, “Hey.”
He smiles. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thank you.” I take him in and notice his hair is wet. “Did you take a shower?”
He nods. “Didn’t think you’d want to hang out with me after my morning conditioning.”
“You worked out?” My eyes pop open even more. “It’s a Sunday, you have conditioning on a Sunday?”
“Just a quick morning run, not the entire team, just me.”
“What is quick in your book?”
“Two miles.”
“Oh.” I twist so I’m lying on my back. “That is quick.”
“Felt stiff, wanted to loosen up a bit.” He shakes his shoulders. “I like your shampoo, smells all fruity and shit.”
“You used my soap?”
“And towel,” he says unapologetically.
Who is this guy?
I slowly sit up and rub my eyes with my hands, needing the bathroom immediately from all the water I drank last night. I throw the blankets off me and start to get off my high bed when Knox grabs my arm and helps me. I’m about to tell him I’m not a ninety-year-old, but when my feet hit the ground and I wobble, I’m grateful for the assist.
“Bathroom?”
“Yeah, but I can do that myself.” I laugh and pat his hand.
I quickly pee, brush my teeth, and give myself a brief once-over in my mirror. Silk pajama set, no bra, and bedhead . . . could be worse. No. He’s already seen worse. I tame my hair a little, pinch some color into my cheeks, and then walk into my bedroom where Knox is sitting on my mattress, hands behind him, propping him up. His eyes burn a trail up my body and stop directly at my chest.
My nipples are hard, I know they are, I can feel them pointing against the silk fabric of my camisole, but with zero shame, I walk toward him.
He licks his lips and sits up as I reach him, his eyes lazy, his hands falling to my hips.
I reach out and caress his cheek, his stubble rough against the palm of my hand, a delicious feeling I completely forgot about up until now.
How is that possible, to forget the feeling of a man’s coarse cheek under my touch? It should be something I crave, something I long for, but then again, Neil changed that. He changed everything about our relationship as we grew older. He took the simple things away from me like my right to touch him intimately. I tried, but toward the end he always pushed me away when I tried to hug him, or his kisses were barely a peck on my cheek if I was lucky.
I miss this, being intimate with another human without being overtly sexual.
“I’m sorry I ruined your plans last night.”
He wastes no time in pulling me between his legs, keeping me in place with his hands. He’s such a big man and since my bed is higher than normal to fit storage underneath, he’s looking down at me.
“You didn’t ruin everything. Plus, I can see perfectly down your shirt right now, which is a pleasant morning surprise.”
I roll my eyes and attempt to push away from him but instead he hops off the bed, picks me up, and carefully places me on the bed where he joins me, his large body eating up the entire mattress.
“Next time we spend the night together, it’ll be at my place because your bed is tiny.”
“You think there’s going to be another time?”
Lying on his side next to me, his upper half hovers over my body, deliciously trapping me in place.
His fingers trail up the side of my arm, a shiver spreading over my skin.
“There will be another time.”
“You’re so sure of yourself.”
“Babe, your nipples are so goddamn hard, so if that’s any indication, there will be a second time.”
My face flushes but I don’t let it deter me. “That’s just how my nipples are in the morning, excited for sunshine.”
He laughs. “Yeah, they’re not excited for anything else?” His fingers glide over my collarbone and I swear, my nipples grow even harder. Is that even possible?
“Nope,” I answer, even though it’s a weak nope from me having to catch my breath.
He lowers his head to mine, inches apart as his hand travels down my arm to the hem of my shirt. Not waiting for a go-ahead, his hand slips under my shirt, and his fingers spread over my stomach.
I suck in a sharp breath, and for some reason, my legs fall open. He’s nowhere near that area, but that doesn’t stop my body from reacting. A deep, needy throb starts to ache between my legs as his hand travels higher to my ribcage. I shift underneath him, realizing how much I want him to touch me, kiss me, do wicked things to my body, not even caring that my two best friends are a wall away.