Chapter 8 #2
This man could crush me with his thumb…just how I like them.
He’s even taller than I’d originally thought, and he has the mass to match.
I sing along to the current song as he cups my face, his thumbs trailing across my press-on freckles.
The look of wonder in his expression melts my heart.
This man is clearly going through something, and, not for the first time, I’m grateful that I’ve never felt the need to hide who I am or what I want.
But before I can figure out what he’s dealing with, a face I instantly recognize interrupts us.
As a hockey fan, it’s impossible not to know Ryder Kingston, the goalie for the Hydras.
As a division rival of my home team, I can name most of the Hydras players, but Kingston’s also hotter than the sun, so that helps to make him memorable.
While I’m fangirling, he barks at my partner to stop dancing with me.
Two things catch my attention.
One, Ryder calls the man Knox. Of-fucking-course I would end up in the arms of a man with the same name as the one I came here to forget.
And two, maybe not everyone on the Hydras team is here because of a PR stunt. I think Ryder Kingston means to lay his own claim to this giant hottie…and who could blame him?
My suspicions are confirmed when this fucker growls at me with his teeth bared, causing me to hold my hands up in surrender. Turning my attention back to my dance partner, I let him off the hook because the look of longing on his face tells me he wants Ryder as much as the goalie wants him.
I bid them goodnight and move about the club to find my next dance partner, which doesn’t take long in this crowd.
By midnight, I’m rocking a decent buzz and wearing a smile indicative of my fun evening, but no one’s coming back to my hotel room because ever since hearing Knox’s name, I’ve been unable to get him out of my mind.
I already know any attempt at hooking up with someone new would be futile.
My sister’s words from earlier come back to haunt me, and I wonder what’s wrong with me that I can’t just find someone my own age to fuck like she suggested.
For someone who doesn’t have daddy issues, my preferred type remains a mystery to me.
I pull my phone from the waistband of my shorts and open the messaging app. Like the only way to get a song out of your head is to listen to it, I know there’s only one way to get Knox off my mind.
It’s late, but these are the perfect hours for making bad decisions. My parents texted me Knox’s number before they left, in case I needed to contact him…and I’m thinking that need just arose.
Taylor
I came to the club to try to get you out of my mind, and wouldn’t you know, my first dance partner had the same name as you, rendering my entire trip useless.
A few minutes pass while I sober up with some water at the bar. I travel alone enough to have a few ground rules in place, and even though Callum is here tonight, technically making me not alone, I’m definitely the responsible one in our party.
Those rules include: always watching the bartender make my drink, never allowing them to turn their back to me, and never, ever walking to my hotel or taking a rideshare while I’m still buzzing.
I love meeting new people, but I also know there are plenty of shitty ones who think just because I like things that shine and the colors of the rainbow, I’d go down without a fight.
Good luck, motherfuckers. Those years of martial arts training have kept me safe on more than one occasion.
My heart skips a beat when my phone buzzes in my hand, alerting me to a text reply.
Knox
Who is this?
I stretch my arm out, take a picture, and hit send.
My selfie game is strong. With one eye closed in a wink and my lips parted in a playful smirk, the low lights of the club give me the perfect shadowing, and the rhinestones on my face catch the light from the bar, making me look like a fae prince.
I chuckle, realizing Knox probably has no idea what that is.
Knox
Oh, for fuck’s sake. How did you get my number?
Taylor
My parents left it for me in case I needed to get in touch…and I definitely need to get in touch.
Knox
Are you okay?
The fact that he takes the time to ask about my well-being instead of going straight to being pissed off makes my stomach swirl.
Taylor
I’m fine.
Just wanted to say hello.
Knox
It’s 1:00 in the morning.
Taylor
If you didn’t want to be woken up, you should’ve put your phone on silent.
Knox
I’ll be sure to remember that from now on.
Before I can type something witty, my phone goes off again, making me smile.
Knox
Where the hell are you?
Taylor:
Atlanta
Knox
Atlanta? I thought you were going to say downtown somewhere.
I was going to offer you a ride since you’re clearly drunk, but Atlanta’s a little far.
Be still my fucking heart. He was going to come get me at one a.m. because he thought I was drunk?
God, I’d have his fucking babies if I could.
While I’m lost in my thoughts, my phone vibrates again.
Knox
I’ll check on your parents’ house tomorrow when I swing by to make sure the batten boards haven’t shifted for the concrete pour on Monday.
Taylor
I’m sobering up from a buzz, but I’m not drunk.
I don’t know why I feel the need to clarify. Justifying and explaining myself aren’t things I do often, but I don’t want him to think I’m immature or irresponsible like everyone else.
Wait…
Taylor
You’re going by the house tomorrow?
The thought leaves me with a strange feeling, like the thing I’m missing out on is at home for once and not somewhere else in the world. I can’t ever remember a time where I wanted to run toward home instead of away from it.
Knox
Yeah, but I won’t need to get inside.
Taylor
I would’ve stayed home if I’d known you were coming by.
Knox
That’s not necessary.
I really can’t explain it, but I have the need to get under this man’s skin.
I want to see his calm snap, his politeness turn possessive, and his grimace turn into a smile that sets his eyes ablaze…
and I definitely want to see his abs again.
The second time I was gifted a glimpse, his shirt was high enough that I could see a patch of dark chest hair that matched the trail leading south from his belly button, and I almost lost it right there on my parents’ driveway.
Although I don’t like body hair on me, I love the way someone else’s scratches against my delicate skin, the way it holds their scent, the way it makes me feel like I’m fucking a beast.
If the way Knox checked me out didn’t give it away, the fact that he’s still texting me instead of blocking my number is a pretty good indicator that he’s interested…or at the very least, curious.
And I can work with that.