“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble. “G’night, Phoe.”
“Goodnight, Knox.”
Chapter 10
Taylor
Monday morning, I’m out of bed by six-thirty. Knox didn’t text the rest of the weekend, and I didn’t force myself on him, but I have to admit, his silence has only made his presence louder in my mind.
I’m used to getting what I want, and for some inexplicable reason, I want Knox Bennett…at least once. I’ve completely deluded myself into thinking it could be good for us both. Satisfying his curiosity while helping me heal kind of makes it sound like a win-win.
Throwing on another pair of spandex shorts, I grab a crop top and make my way to my parents’ basement, where the home gym is set up. I have a fuck-ton of energy to burn before Knox and his guys get here, or I’ll do something stupid.
Like believe the lies I’m telling myself.
I grab a set of dumbbells and burn my chest and shoulders with about a thousand reps each of flies and bench. Next, I move on to abs, and only when I physically cannot do one more sit-up do I finally get on the treadmill.
Earbuds in, I pick a comfortable pace and let myself zone out.
I’msozoned out that I completely lose track of time. My music fades as a text alert comes through, and I slow my speed to check my phone.
Knox
We’re here. No one answered the door. Just wanted you to know. Sorry if we wake you.
My heart rateis suddenly much higher now than it was throughout my entire workout. I grab my water and sprint up the stairs, thirstier for a glimpse of Knox than I am for the liquid in my bottle.
Through the windows in the kitchen, I see Phil and Javier out back, but no sign of my brooding contractor, so I make my way to the front of the house.
Wrenching the front door open, I spot him at the back of his truck. I stand totally still and watch him for a second as he digs around for something. The way his arms flex against the sleeves of his blue T-shirt has me squeezing my thighs together to relieve the ache in my balls.
I only last fifteen seconds before I’m descending the porch stairs, walking toward him.
He notices me right as I’m wiping a drop of sweat from my eye. With my other eye still open, I see his jaw clench as he tries—and fails—not to rake his gaze over my body.
“Morning,” I say cheerily. “Sorry I missed the doorbell. I was downstairs getting a run in.”
“It’s fine,” he sighs. “The guys are out back already. I’m waiting on the concrete truck. Should be here any minute.”
He averts his gaze and goes back to whatever he’s messing with.
I take a step closer.
“How was your weekend?” I ask, propping a hip against his truck.
“Fine,” he grumbles.
“That’s all I get?” I ask playfully, but it’s clear he’s not in the mood, making me wonder what the hell happened between his last text and this moment.
Before he can answer, we turn to look down the road as a giant concrete truck makes the tight corner and rumbles toward my parents’ house.
It comes to a stop in the street, far too large to fit in the driveway, and three guys hop out of the cab.
One look at the driver and I know exactly how this is going to go. Won’t be my first rodeo, although it sucks that it’s going to happen in front of Knox.
“Whoa, get a load of this guy,” the driver says, slamming his door shut and throwing a thumb in my direction. “You’re a little late. The drag festival was last month.”
Ignorant prick.I’m good, but I’m not nearly good enough to do drag makeup. Those fuckers are artists. Besides, I’m not even wearing makeup right now.Get your assumed insults right, dickwad.
