9. Gemma
Chapter nine
Gemma
Rule #32: Do not walk alone after dark.
R ook's hands slid over my stomach, flat and warm against my chilled skin. He wrapped them around my waist, drifting up to my ribcage, and I arched into his touch with a low moan. Then his lips were under my jaw, pressing against my pulse point and caressing the skin with a warm gust of air. "Gemma," he whispered.
I moaned again, writhing. I wanted him to keep moving upwards with his hands, toward my breasts, toward my aching nipples that longed to be plucked and sucked. "Mnh," I moaned.
"Gemma," he spoke against the sensitive skin of my throat. He licked my pulse point, and I shivered gratefully. I could smell him. I could feel him all around me.
"Knox," I moaned. My center heated, pooling with moisture and tightening painfully. I needed him. I needed release. I was so pent up with worry and discomfort and anxiety.
Then he was licking my face, sloppy and wet and warm, and I cringed. "What—?"
Mini whined, and my eyes popped open. In the blue-black darkness, I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The bedroom was nice . Too nice. Like a SpaceBnB I couldn't afford, and the linen and down comforter cocooned me securely in a room that my nose told me had grown icy cold. Then Mini whined again, and I turned to find my Doberman staring at me, licking her chops and pricking her ears back and forth.
Oh.
I was in Rook's apartment. I was in Rook's bed , and I'd just been having… a wet dream about him? "Jesus, fuck," I muttered. I slid a hand down my face, wiping Mini slobber off my skin and giving her an irritated glower. "Do you know how long it took me to fall asleep in this man's bed? Of course, you do. You were here the whole time. Why are you waking me up?"
Mini made a growl-whine that told me she had to use the bathroom. My eyelids shuttered to half-mast. "You drank out of the toilet bowl while I was sleeping, didn't you?"
Mini cocked her head, ears twitching. That was a yes.
Groaning, and this time not from arousal—what the hell had I been thinking?—I sat up and scrubbed the top of Mini's head. "Alright," I sighed. "Alright. Midnight walk, it is." I glanced at my phone screen where it was charging on Rook's bedside table. "Make that two AM walk."
Mini scampered away from me, doing her dainty Doberman trot in a circle before returning to me happily. I dragged myself to the bathroom to take care of my heavy period flow nonsense, throwing away the pad, replacing it, and adding a tampon for good measure. Endometriosis was the actual worst . My cramps were ramping up again now that I was awake, so after washing my hands, I shakily sorted through Rook's medicine cabinet until I found the Ibuprofen. I needed something stronger than Ibuprofen. Like a lidocaine shot. Or meth.
Once I'd finished, I pulled a hoodie over my tank top and pajama pants set, and then I opened the bedroom door with as much stealth as I was capable of. Which wasn't much. I tiptoed out, but Mini scrambled over hardwood floors, her long nails clacking and scraping as she booked it for the elevator entrance. I hurried after her, but Rook had already sat up from where he'd been sleeping on the couch. There was plenty of light in the apartment, courtesy of the streetlamps outside and the enormous windows along the west side of the room.
Rook rotated a look around, his blond hair ruffled and his sleepy eyes blinking. "Gemma?"
Had he been having a wet dream about me? I shook my head. What an inane thought, of course, he hadn't. He was about as attracted to me as he would have been to a rodent infestation in his home, I imagined. I stopped at the back of the couch, looking down at Rook's confused features and resisting the urge to touch his overnight beard growth. He was such a beautiful man, with his sharp angles and hard features. Ridiculous. "Sorry," I whispered.
Rook glanced at Mini, then back at me, and then he checked his smartwatch. Peering up at me, he asked, "You're not going for a walk, are you?"
I motioned to Mini apologetically. "She has to pee. I think she drank the toilet bowl water."
Rook scratched his beard shadow, squinting one eye. "I told you not to do that by yourself after dark."
I bristled. "Okay, Mother ." Ignoring him, I went to get the leash from its hook. At the same time, Rook unfolded himself from the couch, obviously intending to cut me off. Somehow, he managed to look unhurried but still moved far faster than my short legs could carry me. As I grabbed the leash, his fingers closed around it, too. He was standing close behind me, and I realized then that he was shirtless. And warm. And fuck , why did I have to have a sexy dream about him?
"I'll go with you," he murmured low. He still had the grainy quality of sleep to his voice, and his body near mine was firm and so tempting. "But let me get dressed first."
I turned as he stepped away, pressing my back against the wall. The top of my head brushed the rack of hooks, and I stared at him, wide-eyed. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah," he replied, somewhat warily with an eye bounce. "Why?"
"Nothing," I said quickly. Who was this guy? First, he'd helped me with my cramps, and then he'd flirted with me in the kitchen—I was pretty sure that was where the disturbingly sexy dream had come from—and now he was helping me? Bizarre. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde. I glanced out the windows. It wasn't a full moon, either.
Knox took the leash with him, like he was worried—okay, like he knew— that I would go without him anyway. When he returned, he had on a zip-up hoodie, sweatpants, and sneakers. I'd slid my feet into my rubber clogs, and as I pressed the elevator button, he clipped the leash to Mini's collar. Knox gave me a sideways look. "I'm awake now. You can go back to bed if you want."
I lifted my chin, offended that he thought I was some lazy dog owner who didn't want to take care of her own puppy. "I can take care of Mini."
He gave me an up-down perusal as the doors slid open. "You're already bending over at the waist. You're in pain."
Well, fuck. I straightened. "Still."
"Still, you're in pain and you need to take care of yourself or you'll get burned out." Knox gave me an icy look like I'd yanked out a bunch of stitches he had personally sewn into my body. But he didn't argue with me anymore as I joined him in the elevator and we took it down to the next floor. He muttered something about "stubborn women," and I folded my arms, keeping my chin aloft.
As we stepped out into the building lobby, I heard something clank in the gym. I peered through the glass door to the workout room and found our downstairs neighbor, Dave, lifting iron. At two in the morning. My brow furrowed, but Knox didn't even hesitate, walking forward and out the front doors. "Dave has weird work hours. Don't worry about him."
Dave had dark hair dyed blond at the tips, muscles so large, I wondered if he could even touch his hands together, and headphones over his ears. He was lifting a shit ton of weight by himself, his back drenched in sweat, and his enormous, tree-trunk thighs bulged. Dave was clearly a bit of a roid-head. Good for Dave, I guess.
"Do you think he cares that you have another tenant in your apartment?" I asked, walking through the door Knox held open for me.
Knox shrugged, following me out. "Doubt it." Mini bounded and leaped around us, clearly thrilled to have a repeat of yesterday afternoon with both of us taking her for a walk.
The dark streets swallowed us whole as we left the bright floodlights outside the building, and even the occasional street lamps did little to add light. Knox turned on a flashlight on his smartwatch, which was surprisingly bright. I cocked my head, shoving my hands in my hoodie pocket and considering him thoughtfully. "How long have you lived here, then?"
"Almost two years. My parents own real estate holdings in the area, and I hop from place to place while I flip and sell properties of my own." Knox said this so carelessly, like it wasn't incredible that he was amassing wealth like that.
"Oh," I breathed.
He glanced at me, and the light from his watch cast geometric shadows along the sharp planes of his face. "Are your parents nearby? You didn't mention them as a possibility to get you out of our… predicament."
I laughed hollowly. "No. My mom lives in Colorado, and my dad moved to Cincinnati when I was like twelve. My parents are still 'married,'" I made exaggerated air quotes, "because they refuse to admit anything is wrong. But they’re both kind of a mess, and I’d rather eat a bowl of toenails than move in with either of them."
"That is graphically disgusting.”
“Thank you,” I grinned.
Knox tilted his head back, taking in the blanket of bright stars. “Your parents sound like mine. My father travels the globe with the girlfriend de jour, and he runs their business remotely. My mother stays here and conquers the world one property at a time."
I nodded. "And she's kind of… bossy… I take it."
He gave me a hard look. "Bog witch made more sense."
“I have other ones. Sniveling Karen.”
“Crypt fungus,” he offered.
With a laugh in my voice, I added, “Diseased barnacle.”
“I’m taking notes for her eulogy,” Knox said seriously.
"I love that for us.” I gave him a hesitant smile. “Shared parent trauma."
"Your mom doesn't visit you?" Knox asked softly.
I wasn't sure where the "get to know you" inquisition was coming from, but it wasn't unwelcome. Ruth had been my bestie for years, and she knew absolutely everything about me. Emma did too. But sometimes it was nice to connect with new people in unique ways, sharing your story and seeing it reflected back to you in their singular reactions. "My mom isn't the supportive type. After her split with my dad, she tried to control me—if I messed up, I was hurting her. She kept telling me she loved me more than anything in the world, that she would die for me. But she never lived for me. She didn't stop drinking for me. She didn't attend school plays for me. She didn't make time for me. She expected the world from me and gave me what was left of her trauma in return. Which wasn't much."
I didn't dare look at Knox, but he stopped walking. I stopped, too, and finally, I glanced at him. He lifted a hand, like he wanted to reach out and comfort me, and then he dropped it again. "I understand," he replied, his voice husky. "Unfortunately, I relate.”
I tried not to take it personally that he refused to touch me, but damn, did it feel wrong. I was sure he had a reason… but somehow, I assumed that sharing truths about our pasts might open that door, even a little. Apparently not. I shrugged even though I felt anything but nonchalant. "We get what we're given, I guess."
"Doesn't mean you didn't deserve more." Knox walked again, and Mini, who had paused, like she was listening to us, trotted over to a dying bush near the curb and squatted to pee.
I sniffed, wiping my nose. "I'm sorry your mom is a controlling asshole."
Knox laughed quietly at that. "I can handle my mother. I'll get us out of this."
"Sure, you will," I muttered, craning my neck to stare at the sky.
Suddenly, Knox's features blocked out my view, and his intense stare captured my attention instead. "Marry me, and it'll go faster."
Whoosh . All the oxygen left my lungs again. I squeaked out, "No thanks."
His lips lifted a fraction. "Worth a try."
"We aren't even friends," I pointed out. “What makes you think I would trust you enough to marry you, even as a ruse?”
"We can be friends," he said mildly. Mini was done, so we turned around and headed back.
"Bullshit," I challenged, squinting.
Knox lifted his long hands in surrender. "I'm friendly when I want to be."
"Prove it." My mouth had drifted into a smile, despite my insecurities.
Knox seemed to ponder that for a few seconds. Finally, he said, "I do know what I would do if we were friends, right about now." He said the word "friends" with a suspicious kind of inflection that made me think he was talking about people other than Spencer. Female friends, maybe.
"What's that?" Why was my heart pattering? What did he do with his friends ? God, I really wanted it to be something dirty. My love life was so dry. Not that Knox belonged in my love life but… shit. I didn't even know what I was thinking. The wet dream had messed with my brain.
"I'd make popcorn and play Rummy," Knox grinned. His knowing look told me he suspected I'd been thinking something completely inappropriate. Ass.
I cleared my throat. "I'm very good at Rummy."
"If you lose you have to marry me," he said, opening the glass door to our apartment.
I faltered as I passed him, and my arm nearly brushed his hard chest. He smelled like Knox, like clean detergent and whatever unique, masculine scent had made me lose my mind in his bed tonight. My heart knocked in my chest and my body wavered, held between his body and the doorway. I swallowed. Then, I stuck out my tongue. "You wish."
Knox followed me, and I felt the sultry darkness of his gaze as he did. "You have no idea."