“Ugh, that’s so terrible.” Oh, I pray I’ve never done the same, but, well, I am human. And I admit, I probably stuck my nosea little higher in the air while I was in law school. Even now, yes, I know a rush of satisfaction when an opportunity comes along to drop that I’m an attorney into a conversation. People act like it means something, and—true confession—I enjoy those moments.
Shame. On. Me.
“Hey, lady, there’s an awful lot of sighing going on up there.”
“Just a guilty conscience at work. As you know, I’m not above a little snobbery myself.”
He surprises me with a chuckle that’s a low rumble and more upbeat than I expect after outing myself as a pretentious snob.
“Are you saying the guys and I didn’t make a great first impression?”
I love that he’s teasing, because I know he just shared a piece of his heart, one that’s been stomped on and tossed aside. “In my defense, I was in a lousy mood that day.”
“Plus, Mike was there.”
I clamp my hand over a laugh. “That guy needs a muzzle.”
“And a good whupping.”
“For sure.” We share a laugh.
Scooting into the spot Knox vacated, I dangle my hand over the side of the mattress. “Hey.” My fingertips brush his shirt, and he snugs my fingers in his. “Thank you for telling me about Becca.”
“Sure. I just wanted to clear some of the junk out of the way.”
Out of the way of…us? The implication puts my breathing on hold.
Knox adjusts his hand, taking my wrist. His thumb finds its way under the turned up shirt sleeve and sweeps circles on the sensitive underside. “Your skin is so soft.”
And his is calloused from hard work. The meeting of the two makes me gulp. His voice, husky and low, messes with my ability to breathe normally.
“Thank you for taking the bull by the horns and asking me out.”
I love how his smiles are audible. “Thank you for accepting. Tonight was amazing.”
“The night’s not over yet.”
Are we in an oxygen-free zone? Because I literally can’t breathe.
He tugs me closer to the narrow no-man’s land separating us, rising onto his side, making our foreheads touch. “I want to kiss you, Ev.” His words breathe across me.
I can’t seem to formulate the simplest response, but my heart answers,yes, please.
He lets go of my wrist and cups my cheek. His fingers, callouses and all, slide into my hair. Yes, there is oxygen, because suddenly we’re sharing the same air. Every fiber of me clamors for our lips to meet.
But a tremor outside my control rattles me head to toe, because it isn’t outside the realm of possibility that the two of us, this room, high emotions…
Where are the brakes? One of us should definitely stop this train…
Knox’s hand falls. With a groan that fills the room, he eases to the floor.
He’s right. He’s smart.
One of us needed to be—and his decision to be that one settles in the middle of my heart like an encouraging word.
“I refuse to kiss you for the first time in a crummy motel room, Everly Wilkes.”
I lie back onto my pillow wearing a giant smile. First time? Ah, I like the sound of that. It also rattles me with toe-tingling shivers and promises to make sleep all the harder to come by.
