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“I can sleep on the couch,” I said, clearing my throat, because we were in a very small space now. I’d always had a keen sense of smell, and suddenly, the scent of cedar and sage was flooding my senses. Like he’d bottled up manly swagger and doused himself in it.
He chuckled. “You can take the bed. I’ve got a rollaway that I keep here.”
He moved across the room, opened the double doors of what appeared to be a closet, and pulled out a twin-size bed, which was on wheels and standing straight up. He moved it near the couch and away from his bed. Thank freaking God for small blessings because sleeping near this man was going to be torture.
Even if I claimed I’d choose celibacy over a night with him, I was fully just trying to save my dignity when I said that.
I imagined sex with Romeo Knight was probably like the kind of sex I read about in romance books. I was an avid reader, and I lived vicariously through the many heroines’ sex lives I’d read about over the years. I’d personally never found sex to be all that memorable. But I would bet my life that this man knew how to please a woman.
He dropped the bed down and then went to the closet and pulled out some sheets and a blanket and pillow, as if this was something he did all the time. I moved closer and took one end of the sheet, helping him make up the bed.
“I’ll take the cot because I don’t think you’d fit on it anyway,” I said, trying to hide my smile. “Do you have a lot of visitors who sleep in their own beds?”
“One of my best friends, Nash, has a little boy named Cutler, and he likes to have a sleepover here once a month, sometimes more if Nash needs a break. He’s raising him by himself.”
“I know Nash. He and Kingston worked on my renovation. They’re both nice.”
He raised a brow as he shook the blanket out and tucked it beneath the mattress. He was full of surprises. I wouldn’t have guessed him to be such a proper bedmaker. “I don’t know that anyone would describe them as nice.”
“Well, they were nice to me.”
“That means they were probably hitting on you, the dickheads.” He tossed a pillow at the head of the bed.
“It happens occasionally. Even if I’m the last person you’d be attracted to, not everyone finds me to be hideous.”
He stared at me for the longest time. “I don’t think anyone could find you hideous, Demi. Your looks have nothing to do with why someone wouldn’t be hitting on you, but you know that, don’t you?”
My cheeks heated at the intensity of his stare. “I don’t know another reason someone would feel that way.”
“You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.” He turned away, pointing toward a door. “Bathroom’s in there. If you’re hungry, I’ve got some leftover pizza in the fridge.”
“Thank you. I’m okay. I’ll just go to sleep if that’s fine with you.”
“Yeah. It’s late. I’m ready to crash, too.” He moved toward his bed and tugged the sweater over his head, and my mouth went dry. His back was chiseled perfection. Damn, was this what boxers looked like? Cut and toned, almost like someone had sculpted him from stone. All hard edges and defined lines. Before I could even process what was happening, he kicked off his shoes and dropped his jeans to the floor, standing there in a pair of black fitted boxer briefs.
Holy freaking hotness.
Strong thighs, a lean, tapered waist, and a perfectly hard ass. I hadn’t seen the other side of him yet, but I couldn’t look away. When he turned around slowly, I had no shame in my game as my eyes perused down his entire body. Dark ink on his right arm and his left thigh had his last name written across it. A six-pack that looked like something you’d see photoshopped in a sports magazine. He had a deep V that led down to a light layering of hair, and I stood stunned when I realized I was staring at the outline of his erection. When I finally forced myself to look up, I met his dark gaze, watching me with a sexy smirk on his face.
“Is this the first time you’ve seen a man in his boxers?” His voice was low and deep and sexy.
“Those aren’t boxers. Those are briefs.”
“I guess you’d know since you’ve been staring at my dick for a ridiculously long time.”
“I have not!” I hissed, before quickly whipping around and kicking off my shoes. I climbed beneath the blanket, fully clothed and completely mortified.
And awkwardly turned on.
Because he was right—I was staring at his package.
He just chuckled before the lights were turned off and the room was dark.
seven
. . .
Romeo
