Chapter 20 #2
The crazy hair and two-buttons-undone shirt don’t help me not notice Knox’s attractiveness.
From muddy work attire to evening wear to late-night comfort, the guy launches a fleet of butterflies in my stomach.
The man is made of muscle, and the fact that those muscles come from hard work lands squarely on the pros list.
I swallow down a fresh burst of attraction.
“Sure. What do you suggest?”
“Hmm. Isn’t that always the question?”
Truthfully, I doubt I can focus on a movie, but my mind has already developed a snapshot of Knox and me, relaxed against the headboard, elbow to elbow, sharing more laughs.
He clasps his hands between his knees. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”
“You know that one about a reindeer?”
He coughs a laugh. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. And the snowman comes second.”
He snorts.
“I don’t see what’s so funny. What’s your favorite?”
“A Christmas Carol,” he answers sans hesitation.
“The one with the ghosts?” As if I don’t know.
He rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, that one.”
I tap my fingers across my open mouth. “Yawn.” Knox hurls a pillow and it slams into my nose before I bring it to my lap. “Hey!”
“You deserved that.”
“Gimme a break. That movie and the book are a snooze-fest.” I may be exaggerating a touch.
He squints. “Just know, if I had another pillow, it would also now be in your face. It’s a classic.” He shakes his head. “And you call yourself a reader."
I flick my hand. “Sorry. It bores me to tears.”
He keeps shaking his head as if disgusted by my lack of sophistication, but I think he’s onto my tease.
He starts tapping on his phone. I scoot my way to the head of the bed and prop a pillow behind my back.
A second later, my phone vibrates with a text from Mom fretting over the weather and when I’ll be home. Oops. This could be tricky. I meant to reach out first and let her know the haps.
Surely the direct approach is best. Explain what happened and where I’ll be spending the night. My fingertip tingles as I push send.
A minute later, I gawk at her response.
MOM: Make the most of your time, Ev. Don’t let this one get away.
“You alright over there?”
The strangled sound I thought I’d only imagined must have made its way beyond the safe zone of my brain. Knox is watching me as he fumbles around the back of the television with a cord from his phone.
“Um, stay calm, but there is a slight chance the world might be ending tonight.”
His eyebrows lift, but he keeps working. “How so?”
“I just filled Mom in on the situation here…”
That stills him. He waits as if I’m about to drop a bomb, which, Mom’s text has the impact of. “And?”
“And she said…well, let me just read it to you.” I clear my throat and recite Mom’s baffling response.
“Make the most of it?” Ears reddening, he refocuses on the TV. “I’m guessing you weren’t supposed to share that with me.”
I toss my phone to the mattress. “Your guess would be as good as mine.” I snort.
“My goodness. Just when you think you know someone, you get a message like that.” Mom just blew to smithereens a lifetime of expectations.
What? Does a daughter turn some magic age where her parents will do anything, violate any norm, to offload her?
Knox rests his forearm along the top of the television. “And here I was worrying she wouldn’t like me after tonight.”
I fling out my arm. “Thank you! At least someone is worried about my wellbeing.”
“Hey, I worried. That’s the whole reason we’re in this mess.”
“And your concern is appreciated.”
His blush shifts into a beguiling smile. “You weren’t thanking me an hour ago.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.”
He chuckles, resuming his efforts, blessedly without a deep dive into the don’t let this one get away part.
The TV screams to life, blaring an awful racket. He winces and scrambles for the remote. “Yikes. Sorry.”
I spy it by the lamp on the nightstand and toss it to Knox’s waiting hands. The volume dips way down. A snowman grins from the screen. “Knox, no! I was giving you a hard time!”
Aw. The sweetest, most adorable little boy face massages my heart. “You were?”
“Well, sorta. I mean, those were my faves. Until I was ten.”
“Oh.” His wide shoulders slump. “What do you want to watch?”
I pat the empty spot by the pillows. “This.”
“No, my bad. I’ll find something else.” He scrolls his phone.
“Come on, sit. I haven’t seen the show in ages.” I stand the extra pillow along the headboard. “Get over here. It’s gonna be great.”
Wearing a fresh grin, he holds up a finger. “Okay, but first…popcorn.”
“Perfect!” I clap my hands. “You read my mind.”
He grabs a box of buttered popcorn from a stash of snacky foods clustered near the television on the low dresser. At the end of the dresser, a microwave sits atop the minifridge.
While the packet rotates on the turntable, Knox disappears into the bathroom, emerging wearing a long-sleeved gray t-shirt over his slacks.
It’s a funny mismatch that adds to his ever-increasing charm.
He sweeps his hand across his hair as if in attempt to straighten up, but when finished, the curl at the top refuses to cooperate. Should I tell him?
Not a chance. It’s adorable.
He’s adorable.
He takes two water bottles from the fridge and hands me one. “You warm enough?”
“For now.” I smile up.
He eyes me for a split second. Did that sound flirtatious? Kind of like, you can keep me warm later, baby?
Hope not. Because, while such a scenario sounds…blissful…I’m not going to tempt fate.
The bed dips when he adds his weight to it. He swings his long legs up and crosses at the ankles.
Blinking, I stare at his feet.
“What?” His eyes dart.
“Your socks.”
He tears open the popcorn, sending steam spiraling like a smoke signal. “Like ’em?” His toes wiggle.
I thought his tie was festive, but these bright suckers take the Christmas cake. They’re jolly red and imprinted over every square inch with the face of a Frenchie dog. In each image, the dog’s precocious mug is wreathed with strands of brightly colored bulbs.
“What are you, five?”
He pops a puffy kernel into his mouth. “Just keeping the season bright. Ho, ho, ho.”
Recalling ads I’ve seen online, I squint for a better look. “Is that your dog?”
He uncrosses his feet and rotates them like windshield wipers. “Everly, meet Dozer.”
“Dozer.” I pull back and look at him hard. “Wait…as in bull?” He told me the name before, but I didn’t connect the dots.
“Yep, as in bull. And he’s even more adorable than I am, if you can believe that.” Chewing, he wobbles his eyebrows.
I highly doubt it.
“Thank you for giving me an opportunity to show these babies off.”
I humph. “I cannot believe you spent good money on those things.”
“Oh, I didn’t. Mom is to thank for these masterpieces. Tonight is the first time they’ve ever been on my feet. I haven’t much been in the mood.”
“Too much work?”
His mouth parts, hanging in the slightly open position for a heartbeat. “Yeah. Super busy.” Knox taps play on his phone screen.
The snowman is fat and happy as he sings, but, call me crazy, my mood meter detects a shift in my handsome, icebound buddy.