When I feel the bed shift beside me, my heart begins to race. Even though I was intoxicated, I know I didn’t bring anyone back with me, so there’s only one guess as to whose bed I’m in. Peeking under the covers, I’m relieved to find that I’m clothed, but that’s short-lived when I realize that I’m in a pair of his boxer shorts and an oversized t-shirt, presumably also his.
I’m wearing his fucking clothes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, I think, trying to remember how I ended up in his clothes, but my mind’s drawing a blank. Turning towards him, I’m thankful to find that he’s still asleep, and although I know I need to get out of here, I can’t help but look at him.
Knox is lying on his back, his broken arm propped up on a pillow next to him. My eyes drift down to his body and I can see the outline of muscles on his lower abdomen as the sheet falls just below his belly button. His dog tags rise and fall with every breath. I want to reach out and touch them and then stroke the skin that they lie on. His face is beautiful and serene, and for the first time since I met him, he looks completely vulnerable. Something about it takes my breath away. He’s gorgeous when he’s awake, but right now it’s unnerving how breathtaking he is when he looks so peaceful. I can’t help but move a little closer to him, stopping just inches away.
My eyes fall on his left rib, where I’ve previously spotted a tattoo but haven’t ever been able to study it. Taking a closer look, I see the words “Perfer et obdura; Dolor hic tibi proderit olim.” I’m pretty sure that it’s Latin. Now I’m even more curious to know what it means and what caused him to get those words tattooed on his skin.
My hand takes on a mind of its own as my fingers reach out and graze the skin where the tattoo is. It goes on a quest, in search of every scar that covers his torso. I can see where shrapnel tore into his skin and feel the raised scar tissue underneath my touch. No matter how much he can drive me crazy, I can’t help but wonder how much pain and suffering he’s seen and had to endure. My heart aches at the thought of him lying on that road in Afghanistan, unconscious, bruised, broken, and burned. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and scarred, a strange sadness washes over me, and I wonder if his experiences of loss have played a role in the gruff exterior he likes to portray.
As my fingers trace the lines in his abs, a moment goes by and I swear I feel him tense beneath me, causing my fingers to freeze and my breath to catch. Terrified that he’s going to catch me, I’m holding it, my fingers still lightly touching him but no longer moving. A moment passes, and then another. Relief flows through me when he doesn’t wake and his breathing stays normal. I’m hoping it was just a fluke and that he didn’t actually feel me making my exploration.
My heart is still racing, and I don’t know if it’s from the fact that I was almost caught or if it’s from the close proximity to him. I’m completely confused at my reaction to him. I want to gouge his eyes out in one moment and then rip his clothes off in the next. He’s sweet, he’s an ass, he’s warm, he’s cold. He flirts, he scowls, he drives me absolutely crazy, but dammit if my heart doesn’t melt when he smiles. Not that it’s often, but I love that smile—the one he gives when he doesn’t think anyone’s really paying attention, when the smile actually reaches his eyes.
I don’t know what it is about Knox Wellington, but in this moment, I know that Lexi was right in her response when I told her I didn’t know what I was getting into. It’s going to be fun finding out, but I’m also scared out of my mind at the same time. I never felt this physically attracted to Drew, like there was a pull to him like I feel with Knox. Like I could stare at him for days, never looking away. Although he made my heart race in his own way, it was nothing like this, and it definitely didn’t happen this fast.
The banging, which I now identify as a loud knock at the door, resumes, tearing me out of my thoughts. I can see that Knox is beginning to stir, and I know I need to get the hell out of here. I slip out of bed in hopes that he doesn’t catch me. My memory of the night after that last shot is foggy, but I’m pretty sure he told me to raid his closet, get comfortable, and go to sleep. Nothing happened, and part of me feels disappointed. When I get to the door, I take one last look at him, and I have to fight the urge to return to the bed and kiss his inviting lips.
Making my way down the hall, I fix my ponytail and look down at my clothes. I’m athletic and not a stick figure, but I’m still swimming in them and I love the feel of it. Before I make it to the front door, I look down to make sure that I’m not showing off the chill in the air, and when I do, I catch the scent of his cologne that’s lingering on the shirt. My hands involuntarily bring the top of his t-shirt up to my face to inhale the scent. Closing my eyes, I savor it, reliving the moment I was pressed against his chest during the slow dance last night. Another loud bang jolts me out of the memory, and I’m mortified when I spot Jace and Lexi grinning at me through the glass window in the front door with grocery bags in their hands.
Crossing to the door, I pull the t-shirt back down and smooth it out as I let them in. Jace takes one look at my clothes and whistles, and Lexi grins knowingly at me as she hands me my car keys, having agreed to drop my car off this morning.
“I was going to say nice outfit, Charlie, but you already seem to be enjoying it,” she teases me as I take one of the bags from her. They follow me into the kitchen and we start unpacking them.
“Oh, that? It was nothing. I’ve got to pick up some more fabric softener when I head to the store later today, and I was trying to get a feel for what scent Knox usually prefers,” I say, knowing it’s a lame excuse.
Jace chuckles as he rummages through the cabinets and pulls out a frying pan. “Lately, it’s eau de can’t shower, but I’m sure you can find something better.”
Lexi playfully punches him in the arm at his comment. “Hey, that’s not fair. He can’t help it.”
A gruff, sleepy voice fills the room. “Can’t help what?” I freeze. It’s only been a couple of minutes since I left his bedroom, and when I turn to look at him, I can’t tell if he just woke up or if he’s faking the grogginess. I’m suddenly nervous at the liberties I took when I thought he was asleep, but now that he’s avoiding eye contact with me, I’m mentally freaking out that he wasn’t exactly in a deep slumber.
“Oh, Charlie here was just trying to figure out what kind of fabric softener you like,” Jace informs him.
He finally looks at me, and I can’t read his expression as he takes in the sight of me, looking me up and down as I stand here barefoot in his kitchen, wearing his clothes. It’s unnerving the way he’s watching me, and I still can’t believe that I agreed to move in with him. I’m kind of wishing we could have this morning to ourselves to actually talk this out without Jace to butt in, but at the same time, I’m grateful for the distraction.
Still looking at me, he simply shrugs. “I usually just get whatever’s on sale. I don’t care what it smells like. Just none of that girly shit,” he informs me, and the brisk note in his tone has me wanting to run out and buy the Gain Lavender & Vanilla detergent that I love so much.