Chapter 3
I looked at Knox and then back to Sam. “I’m more than capable of walking myself home.” I rolled my eyes.
“Good thing this is the city of lights and I do this almost every night,” I quipped back. “You should worry more about the prince and make sure he gets back to the hotel safely.”
“He has security from one of the most highly reputable firms with him. He will be fine. My dad taught me to always walk a lady home.” His eyes flashed with sadness before reverting to their impassive stare.
“Then it’s settled. Knox will walk Birdie home. Text me when you get there.” Sam smiled a bit too cheerily. “Make good choices, love you!” She wiggled her fingers at me as she said our customary goodbye.
“Make good choices. Love you,” I replied dryly.
While Knox said his goodbyes to Prince Oliver, Tej, and Chauncey, I cleared the table of the beer bottles and trash and took it to the back. I grabbed my stuff out of my locker and made sure my taser was in my pocket. When I came out, everyone was gone, and Knox was sitting at the table by himself.
“I’m just going to wipe these tables down and then we can get going.”
He gave me the solemn nod I was coming to think of as his signature response. What a grump, I thought.
We left Americana and headed east toward my apartment.
The winter air was crisp, and, despite the late hour, there were plenty of people out and about.
It was true what they said: This city never slept.
At this time of night, it was people heading home from the bars and clubs.
There were two girls walking arm in arm in front of us with their five-inch heels in their hands.
One of them darted into an alley and I heard her friend yell at her to not pee in the middle of the alleyway—she at least needed to squat down behind the dumpster.
“God, I do not miss being twenty-one and peeing in the street,” I laughed to myself.
“You’ve peed in the street?” Knox asked from beside me, giving me an incredulous look.
It shook me to hear him talk. I had almost forgotten he was walking next to me—almost. His towering height was pretty hard to ignore.
“Sure have.” I smiled at him. I honestly didn’t care what he thought about me anymore. I had tried my damnedest all night to include him in our conversations and connect with him, but he was a tough nut to crack.
We walked in silence for a few more blocks, passing the party goers that littered the sidewalks. I tossed a ten-dollar bill into the hat of a homeless man who sat on the corner as we crossed the street.
“Do you like shawarma?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t had more than a few bites of fries since finishing my shift.
I needed something to soak up the beer flowing through my system.
One of my favorite things about New York: it didn’t matter what time it was, you could always find something to eat and had a full array of food choices at your disposal.
He looked me over and said, “Sure. But if I had to pick, I’d go with a gyro.”
Jesus, take the wheel, here we go again.
“Okay. Well, there is this amazing shawarma place on the corner of my street. For walking me home, I’ll buy you one.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m good.”
“Oh, come on. Are you one of those guys who doesn’t eat after a certain hour to keep your body in tip-top shape?”
He rolled his beautiful blue eyes at me.
“Come on, let me buy you food.”
We walked a few more blocks until we got to Khallas, my favorite corner shop that always had beautiful Arabic music blaring from the speakers and people shuffling in and out regardless of the hour.
As soon as we walked through the door, the smell of cardamom, cumin, turmeric, and roasting meats filled my nose.
I ordered us two shawarma pitas to go and said goodbye to my favorite late-night clerk, Hamza, before continuing the walk to my apartment.
“How do you like it?” I asked Knox.
“Not bad. But I prefer tzatziki sauce over this tahini.”
“Sir, we are not doing this again.” I chuckled. Prince Oliver wasn’t wrong; this man loved to have any type of debate.
“I’m just saying, it’s so refreshing. It’s the superior sauce.”
“I don’t know, you could have fooled me about not liking it since you have it running down your shirt.” I pointed to the sauce dripping down the red-and-black flannel. He looked to where I gestured and swore under his breath.
“Lucky for you, this is my apartment right here. You can come up and clean it off.”
“Thanks,” he said in that smooth monotone.
I entered my code to unlock the lobby door and we walked to the elevator. As we stood there waiting for the ancient elevator to make its way to us, I noticed Knox looking around.
“I know it’s not much, but when I first moved here, it was all that I could afford. It’s a miracle I found something with an elevator at all, really.”
“I wasn’t thinking that,” he said, shaking his head slightly.
The elevator dinged and we stepped inside.
I had obviously noticed how tall Knox was when we met, but it wasn’t until we were in the small enclosure of the elevator that I noticed how built he was.
His shoulders were broad, his thighs were the size of both of mine put together and—dear God—he smelled great, even with shawarma covering his shirt.
I unlocked my door and walked inside, hanging my bag and keys on a hook as I flipped on the lights. Knox took a look around my apartment. I loved this place, but watching him analyze everything shook my usual confidence.
“Here, let me get you some paper towels and we can wipe that stuff off your shirt.”
I dampened a paper towel and started to work on the stain.
Damn, this guy was nothing but hard muscle.
I didn’t know if it was the fact that I hadn’t slept with anyone in months or the alcohol still coursing its way through my bloodstream, but this had me sensing things I hadn’t felt in a while.
My pulse quickened and I was having a hard time just focusing on wiping at the spot. His muscles tensed under every touch.
“Um…” I cleared my throat. “Maybe you should take your shirt off and just rinse it in the sink?” I needed to stop touching this guy.
He stared at me like he was digesting what I had just said before it clicked for me.
“Oh gosh! I don't want you to take your shirt off just so you get naked. Sorry. I just thought maybe rinsing it off would help it not look like you had dried cum on your shirt.” Did I just say that? “Oh my gosh, that’s not what I mean. I mean, it is what I mean but not in a bad way….” Boy, I am digging myself a very large hole here.
“I’m going to go see if I have another shirt for you. ”
I turned to my dresser and started digging through the drawers. Surely I had an old shirt from an ex-boyfriend. Although even if I did, I wasn’t sure the shirt would fit Knox. I had never dated anyone his size and build.
I kept searching and heard the sink running.
I found an old shirt of my brother’s and hoped it would fit.
It would probably hug him like glue, but it would do the job.
I turned around to see Knox shirtless in my kitchen, tattoos of mountains and pine trees trailing up his right arm before morphing into an enormous dragon and scrolls that spanned from his shoulder blade across to his chest.
Holy shit. The muscles on his back were tense as he rubbed the shirt in the sink. Is back porn a thing? Because I think a new kink has been unlocked for me.
Get a grip, Birdie! He’s a human being, not a piece of meat for you to ogle at. But if he was a piece of meat, he’d be wagyu beef, because damn.
Knox turned around and caught me staring. Abort dirty thoughts, he knows! Play it cool.
“I have this shirt!” I yelled. Yep, you’re so cool.
The next thing I knew, water was spraying all over my tiny kitchenette and Knox was fumbling to turn the knob on the sink.
“Oh shit!” I sprinted across the small space to discover that the faucet had fallen into the sink, spraying water all over the counter and walls—and Knox.
“The knob isn’t working,” Knox said, his usual cool demeanor wavering.
I dropped to my knees and reached under the sink to cut off the water.
When I pulled myself out from under the sink, I was face to face with a wet crotch. Just like everything else on Knox’s body, it was large and well-built, his wet jeans doing absolutely nothing to hide the outline of his thick cock.
Knox cleared his throat.
Oh shit. I was just staring at his dick!
I jumped up, slipped on a puddle, and fell straight into Knox’s chest.
“I am so sorry. I did a lot of the improvements myself, but this faucet has been acting finicky lately. Typically, I’m really good with my hands and working tools.
I mean,” I choked on my words, cursing the alcohol fogging my brain and making me unable to form coherent sentences, “not like that. Well, I mean I’m not bad in bed, I just mean—” I stopped myself and took a breath.
“You know what? I’m just going to stop talking. ”
“Where’s your toolbox? I’ll fix this and then I’ll leave.”
“No! It’s freezing outside. You can’t walk back to the hotel with wet clothes. That’s just asking for a cold or pneumonia. There’s a dryer down the hall, it’ll take maybe ten minutes. You take your clothes off and I’ll go get some towels.”
I went to the bathroom and grabbed a few towels from under my sink.
This night was not going how I had thought or even planned.
Never in my wildest dreams could I have thought I would meet a prince, drink with him and his friends, and then have his right-hand man covered in water in my kitchen. What a night.
I stepped out of the bathroom and locked eyes with a boxer-briefed Knox. I stood there for a good few moments just looking at him.
Towels! The man needed a towel.
“Here!” I basically screamed. I needed to get a grip on myself.
I had seen a naked man before. Several, if we’re being honest, but none of them ever looked like the Adonis standing by my sink.
I handed him the towels, swiped a few coins from the quarter jar on the counter, and ran down the hall to throw his clothes in the dryer, hoping that it wouldn’t take long, because the tension in the apartment was thick and I needed him to leave soon.
The alcohol in my system was making me think crazy thoughts and act like a complete idiot.
I was not an idiot. I had a master’s degree, for God’s sakes.
I was a confident woman who didn’t fumble her words and get caught staring like a freaking weirdo.
I returned to the apartment, grabbed the toolbox from my storage closet, and handed it to Knox.
“There’s not much in there but I’m sure it’s got what you need. Are you sure you know how to do this?”
He huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, I know how to do this.”
My phone dinged with a text message as he opened the toolbox and shuffled a few things around. I pulled the phone from my pocket to find a text from Sam.
Sam
You make it home ok?
Yes! Sry I didn’t text, got home and things got wild
Wild?! Did you hook up w/ the lumberjack?
No…but he is standing in my kitchen in nothing but his boxer briefs
WHAT?!
I’ll have to tell you tomorrow. Good night, love u. Make good choices
Love you, make good choices…by sleeping w/ the lumberjack!
I laughed and threw the phone onto my bed. Knox looked over at me and I gave him a smile in return.
“Do you need any help?”
“No,” was all he answered.
I plopped onto the bench at the foot of my bed and watched as he worked on the sink, enthralled by the way his shoulders tightened and relaxed as he worked the wrench.
The veins in his forearms bulged as he gripped the faucet and screwed it back into place.
This man was unlocking new kinks for me left and right.
I tried not to look at him, but it was so hard given that the behemoth of a man who stood half-naked in my kitchen really was an elephant in the room.
My mind wandered to the last time I’d had a man in my apartment.
Through the alcohol fog, I recalled that it had been some hipster guy that I met at an art gallery opening I attended with my friends Stefan and Clark a few months prior.
The free champagne had snatched away my good judgment.
In hindsight, the fact that he was couch surfing with friends should have raised a red flag, but once he started talking about Jackson Pollock, I was done for.
My panties drop for art, I can’t help it.
That guy didn’t hold a candle to Knox, though.
Where he had been skinny and all limbs, Knox was thick and muscular with an ass that didn’t quit, and his boxer briefs didn’t help by leaving nothing to the imagination.
They clung to his cock so tightly that I could clearly see the head of his dick.
It looked thick and long enough to both satisfy and leave you wanting more.
Well, hello, Knox Junior…
“I think I’m done,” his deep voice echoed as he pulled himself away from the counter.
I shook my head, bringing myself out of the satisfying but objectifying thoughts I was having about this man who was just being nice and fixing my sink.
The timer on my phone went off to check on his clothes. I dashed down the hall to make sure they were dry before bringing them back to him.
“Here you go.” I blushed, trying not to think about his penis as he pulled on his pants and buttoned the shirt over the deep V of his hips.
“Thank you. I’ll get going.” He walked to the front door, and I followed. He opened it, taking two steps into the hallway before he paused, then turned around.
“Hey, make sure you lock this,” he deadpanned, motioning to the door.
“Will do.” I smiled. “See you tomorrow.”
He looked me once over and I swore I saw a small smile run across his face.