I shatter.
I wake up with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in bed. My heart is racing so hard it hurts. My body is pulsing, my skin flushed and damp with sweat.
Maisie stirs beside me, mumbling something about dragons, but doesn’t wake up.
I clutch the sheets to my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The dream was so vivid. I can still feel the ghost of their hands on my skin, the echo of their voices in my ear.
I look around the dark room, trying to ground myself. I’m in my bed. I’m safe. I’m not in a kitchen with three men.
But as I lie back down, pulling the covers up to my chin, I can’t deny the throbbing ache between my legs or the way my body yearns for something I can’t name.
Jude’s words echo in my mind.They can be intense.
He had no idea.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Fallon
The back door opens,letting in a blast of freezing air. Knox walks in, dressed in his running gear, sweat sheening his forehead despite the cold.
He’s breathing hard, his cheeks flushed from the elements. He grabs a towel from the rack and wipes his face.
“You’re up early,” he says, his voice a bit rough from the exertion. He moves immediately to the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I reply, flipping a slice of bacon. “Figured I’d get a head start on the day. Want some?”
Knox takes a sip, leaning against the counter. “S’te plaît.Where did you disappear to last night? You weren’t here when I got back from the gym.”
“Smokehouse,” I tell him. “Needed to get out of the house for a bit. Clear my head.”
Knox arches a brow, watching me over the rim of his mug. “Should I expect one of your conquests to come traipsing out of your room in a few hours? Or did you manage to contain yourself this time?”
I shake my head, sliding the finished bacon onto a plate lined with paper towels. “No conquests. Just a few drinks and a game of darts. I came home alone.”
“Ah bon?” Knox looks curious. “That’s unlike you. Usually, you can’t walk into a bar without leaving with someone.
“Yeah, well.” I turn the heat down on the pan and crack four eggs into it. “I just wasn’t feeling it last night.”
“You weren’t?” Knox takes the plate I slide toward him and crunches on a piece of bacon.
“I guess I just wasn’t in the mood,” I admit with a shrug. I grab a fork and start scrambling the eggs.
I don’t want to examine it too closely, the reason why I wasn’t exactly interested in any of the women in The Smokehouse. Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe the grind of the restaurant is catching up with me.
Or maybe it has something to do with a certain florist with hazel eyes and a smart mouth who has been occupying a lot of our mental real estate lately.
I push that thought away before it can take root. I’m not ready to go there.
Knox looks at me like he wants to say more. Luckily, he doesn’t.
“How was your workout?” I ask.
“Pretty standard.” Knox chews slowly. “Now that you are choosingmonachismeyou should consider joining me in the gym. The exercise would be good for you.”
“Mona-what now?”
He taps the side of his head as he tries to come up with the English word. It’s a gesture I’ve come to recognize over the years. “What do you call it? The silent treatment place? You know, likeAvatar?”
