Chapter 14
SLOANE
I rise early in the morning, having not slept very well.
It turns out Sawyer talks in her sleep. The creepiest part was when I heard her laughing.
Let me tell you, when you’re dead asleep, and a weird voice starts whispering then laughing, it will inspire some really fucked up dreams. We’re talking clowns, dolls, and strangers making eye contact on elevators.
My alarm was set for six so I could try and put into action the scholarship idea Knox and I came up with.
It seemed important to make it happen, even if Knox only decided to do it as some kind of charitable act to get time away to screw me since he learned his favorite toy would be unavailable for the rest of the night.
Turns out thanks to the bride of Chucky in the next bed, I didn’t end up needing my alarm.
My eyelids drag over my eyeballs like sandpaper.
A gallon of coffee and a shower might make me human, or at least pass for a human.
With that thought I force myself out of bed.
I didn’t unpack any of my things, so I just grab my toiletries and head to the bathroom.
I stand under the spray of the shower until I can manage to go three seconds without yawning. I pay extra attention to my hair and makeup. It’s going to take every trick I’ve learned to banish the bags under my eyes.
When I’m done even I would believe I got a good night’s sleep.
I blow out my long, dark hair. Usually I do some kind of updo.
My hair is thicker than most people’s, and hangs nearly to my waist. I’ve thought about cutting it many times, just to have something new, but that would take money.
But it isn’t only that. My mom always used to tell me how much she loved my hair.
She’d sit next to me on my bed and brush it out.
It’s the last time I felt loved.
I know that Xander loves me. It’s not the same as having a person who loves you without needing anything from you. We’ll have our day, sometime in the future when I can be his sister again and not a mother figure making sure he’s taken care of.
The rest of my morning is spent making phone calls.
It’s amazing how many hoops you have to jump through to give away some money.
Usually these kinds of scholarships are set up then funded, but Knox being his usual self, of course we’re doing it backwards.
I manage to find a technical college across the river in Illinois that is willing to work with me.
Actually, the woman in the scholarship office started to cry when I explained what we wanted to do.
I immediately research the school after we end the call, and I feel good about this.
The community needs a win, and having the ability to send several students off to learn a trade without starting their life in debt will have a ripple effect.
Now all I have to do is wake up Knox and shove him in front of some cameras with his checkbook.
I knock on his door. I’ve learned over the few days we were together that he’s a pretty sound sleeper. He often sleeps through a regular alarm and even his phone ringing. I’m envious of that ability after having spent a night sharing a room with Sawyer.
I’m about to go to the front desk and try to sweet talk the clerk into giving me a key to his room, which probably wouldn’t work, when he finally opens the door. His hair is mussed from sleep, and he’s only wearing a pair of flannel pants, leaving his glorious chest on full display.
His full lips curve into a lazy smile as he grasps my waist and pulls me into his room.
“I like this form of room service,” he says as he nuzzles into my neck.
“As much as I’d like to service you right now, you need to get ready. I found a technical college for you to donate for a scholarship.”
My words play in my head after I finish speaking, and my cheeks burn bright red. I can’t believe I told him I want to service him.
He groans, having caught that slip of the tongue as well. “How am I supposed to do anything with that image in my head. The only thing I can think about is you kneeling in front of me with my cock in your mouth. I can’t go another night like last night.”
That’s when I look up, finally able to stop ogling his amazing torso, and notice the bruise on his jaw.
My fingers shake as I reach out to touch it. He stands still as my fingers barely graze the skin. “What happened?”
The muscle in his jaw tics, making the bruise more noticeable. “It’s nothing.”
He won’t look at me though, which means it is most definitely not nothing. “How am I supposed to address anything that comes up if you don’t tell me things?”
“If I wasn’t separated from you last night it wouldn’t have happened,” he grumbles.
“I’m going to need you to explain this to me,” I press.
He shoves his hand in his hair, making the longer strands fall in messy waves. Worse, it makes his biceps flex and all of his other muscles ripple right in my eye level.
There’s a look of guilt on his face, and my mind runs to all sorts of horrible scenarios.
Did he hook up with someone last night after I left and get in a fight?
I mean the first time we were together was because I stopped him from taking home a bride-to-be from her bachelorette party.
Did he get into a fight with a jealous boyfriend or husband?
He sighs, probably sensing I’m not going to let this go. “Apparently we weren’t very quiet last night. One of the men from the VIP section next to ours started making lewd comments about you.”
My mouth falls open, and I’m praying for a hole to swallow me up. “They didn’t watch us did they?” My voice is quiet, afraid of what he will say.
He shakes his head. “No. They did see you when we walked past though. The guy who gave me this—” he brushes his fingers across the bruise “— plays for the Arctic Knights. It wasn’t all about you though.
He was pissed they lost, and probably that he’s a mediocre little bitch that won’t ever see any of the same kinds of highs I’ve had over the last sixteen years. ”
I lean my head back against the door. “Please tell me that no one saw you guys outside of the team.”
Knox shrugs. “A few guys from his team. No idea if they’re going to try to say anything.”
“And how would this have been better if I’d have been with you last night?”
“I would have gone back to the hotel and not been able to get into a fight. I really shouldn’t be left alone,” he says.
“Trust me, I don’t want to continue sharing a room with Sawyer. She talks in her sleep.” I shudder when images of creepy dolls pops back into my head.
“That bad?”
I level him with a look. “Her voice is small and soft, like a child’s voice. But it’s off like some kind of horror movie child. It’s the kind of voice I think a doll would have if it could speak instead of just glaring into your soul with those dead eyes.”
He’s giving me a look that seems to be both horrified on my behalf, and also really concerned about my sanity. “Did you get any sleep?”
I close my eyes for a moment, and have to force myself to open them again. “Not really, but that doesn’t mean the thing about dolls is wrong. They’re creepy as shit.”
“Okay, no dolls. I’ll make sure you never have to be around one ever again.” I know he’s humoring me, but I’ll make sure he remembers this promise.
“Do you want to lay down for a bit while I shower?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, because I won’t get back up.”
He kisses the top of my head, and those damn butterflies take flight in my stomach again. “Okay, I’ll be fast.”
It doesn’t mean anything. He’s not changing his mind about the terms of whatever this thing is between us. I keep repeating that to myself so that hopefully I will start to believe it. But, when he kisses me without an agenda, I get confused.
Once he’s showered and dressed we head to the lobby to wait for the car that will take us to the school. While down there we run into Asher and Weston.
After last night, Asher is the last person I want to see. He seems to read the reticence in my look and gives me an awkward smile. At least he’s not teasing me for last night.
“What are the two of you doing down here so early, and dressed like that?” Weston asks.
“Sloane set up a PR opportunity for me. I’m going to donate money to a technical college to set up a scholarship fund,” Knox tells them.
Weston and Asher share a look. Some silent communication passes between them, and Asher pulls out his phone and starts composing a text. A few moments later his phone buzzes with a reply.
“We’re in. Do we have a few minutes to wait for Jude to come down here?” Asher asks, still staring at his phone.
I look to Knox to answer, in case he doesn’t want them to come with us.
“Yeah, we can wait. I’m sure the school will be happy if we’re able to help more students,” he replies.
I slip into my role as his publicist. “Just remember if the press asks any questions let them know that Knox set this up and asked you to join.”
Weston smiles at me. “I’m glad you’re looking after our boy since he went full nuclear meltdown after, well you know.”
“She takes really good care of him,” Asher says with a smirk.
Before Weston can ponder too much about what Asher is implying, Jude comes out of the elevator with his usual dark cloud hanging over his head. I’m surprised he’s coming because he usually avoids anything press related.
Being around them on the road has changed my perception of these guys.
Weston and Asher aren’t just the jokers I always thought they were from seeing them on TV when my dad watched their games and their interviews afterwards.
Jude is more than a grump. The way he keeps his head down, I think he’s self-conscious about the scar that crosses the corner of his mouth.
I wouldn’t tell Knox this, but it makes him look sexy. The scar isn’t the reason people are scared of him. The glower he usually sports is far more frightening. Combine that with his height and build, and he’s not the most approachable person.
Knox had a similar aura when we were first introduced.
He’s easily six-three, and probably well over two hundred pounds of muscle.
He doesn’t scowl as much as he was when we first met.
I’d like to think that the fact he occasionally smiles in public again is thanks to me.
I’m okay that he doesn’t unleash it all the time though.
His smile has the risk of making panties everywhere combust.
His wide lips curving into a grin softens the angles of his face. His square jaw, high cheekbones, and straight nose are dangerous enough when he’s got a pissed off look on his face. When he smiles his masculine beauty is almost painful to look at directly.
“Mr. Rennick, the car you requested has arrived,” the hotel concierge tells him.
I follow them out to the car, and wonder how we’re going to fit four mountain sized men into the car I ordered first thing this morning. That question is answered when we step outside to find a limo waiting for us.
My mouth hangs open, and Knox lifts my chin with his finger, closing it. “You act like you’ve never been in a limo before.”
I shake my head. “That’s because I haven’t.”
“Prom?” he asks.
Another shake of my head. “I didn’t go,” I whisper.
He cocks his head and studies me. “Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
I look down at my shoes. I want to tell him, not before him, but he’s made it clear that he isn’t even my boyfriend. “No,” I whisper again.
A sound that can only be described as a growl rumbles in his chest. I look up at him, startled. His whiskey brown eyes darken the longer he looks at me.
He leans down and whispers in my ear, “I need to get you to myself.”
I don’t tell him I want that too, even though I do. He’s shaking the ground under me, and I’m not sure how I’ll remain standing when he’s done with me.