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An undeniable heat rushes through my body as our gazes meet. He’s so unbelievably sexy. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, paired with a white t-shirt. His golden eyes are burning into mine, his raven hair disheveled, pointing in every direction but straight. I love seeing him look so casual. It feels like I’m getting a glimpse of a hidden part of him that only the people closest to him get to see.
“Can I use your shower? I ask, breaking the silence. “I feel gross.”
“Of course,” he replies, clearing his throat and taking a small step back.
Did my comment affect him?Averting my eyes to his body, I see his hands move to rest in front of his groin.I guess his dick likes the thought of me naked in his shower.
“Let me grab you a towel. The shower is slippery as hell, so please be careful. I’ve been meaning to get a shower mat. Believe it or not, I almost ate shit a couple of times in there.”
His comment makes me laugh. The thought of a naked Knox tumbling in the shower, his bare ass flying around as he slips and slides, cracks me up.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?” he replies with a smirk as he hands me a towel from the rack. “Turn the knob to the left for hot water and the right for cold. I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything.”
“I may need some clothes, although I could just slip my dress back on. You’ll probably be taking me home soon anyways,” I answer with a soft smile.
“No, I want you to be comfortable. I’ll get you something of mine to wear. I’m not taking you home until you’ve slept this off. My place is a hell of a lot more comfortable and quieter than yours. God knows who Maisie took home last night.”
I shake my head. “Knox, I’m not drunk anymore. It’s been hours, and I literally just threw up everything in my system. I’m honestly fine to go home.”
“You’re still going to be hungover as hell. What if you start throwing up again? I don’t want you to be alone, Phoebe.”
I don’t have the energy to argue with him, but mostly, I don’t want to go home. I want to be with him. I never get to just be alone with Knox, see this side of him, and I don’t want it to end.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Well, I guess I’ll just…” I trail off, motioning towards the shower.
“Right. I’ll be in my room. Just shout if you need me,” he responds awkwardly, abruptly, softly closing the door behind him.
When I move to take a few steps to the shower, I suddenly feel lightheaded and dizzy.Shit, I probably need to eat something.My panic combined with vomiting is making my limbs feel weak. I reach for the towel rack hanging on the wall to steady myself, when I accidentally swipe a can of what looks like shaving cream off the bathroom shelf. As soon as it crashes to the floor, sounding more dramatic than it should, Knox comes barging into the bathroom.
“Phoebe, are you okay?” he asks, looking concerned.
“I’m fine. I’m just a little lightheaded from getting sick. Why is your shaving cream not in the shower?” I laugh, trying to direct his thoughts elsewhere.
“I do have one in the shower. That one’s an extra can. Can you stop trying to distract me? You almost just fell. You realize the floor is tile, right? One bad slip, and you could crack your head open.”
“You’re dramatic,” I quip, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms over my chest.
“You need to eat something first. Let’s go get you some food.”
“No, Knox,” I stand my ground. “I want to shower first. I have dried sweat all over my body and puke splattered on my chest. I feel absolutely disgusting. I’m not doing anything without showering first. I could almost throw up again from just smelling myself.”
He stares off into space, gripping his bottom lip between his teeth, thinking long and hard before responding.
“Fine, but I’m getting in with you,” he blurts out. “Don’t fight me on this, Phoebe. We both saw what happened before when you were lightheaded and didn't eat. I’m not about to have you passing out in my shower and busting your head open. I’m not sure how I would explain to an ambulance that my nineteen-year-old athlete is naked in my shower. So, I’m getting in too. Non-negotiable, or you can shower when you get home.” I want to argue, but his expression is dead serious.
“It’s not like we both haven’t come all over each other,” he continues. It’s like he’s trying to convince himself that since we’ve already crossed a line, this will be okay.
“Fine, but if I’m getting naked, so are you,” I respond.
“Naked? Don’t you have on a bra and panties? It’ll be like you have on a swimsuit. I’ll keep my boxers on.”
I scrunch my eyebrows and look at him like he’s crazy. “I don't have a bra on. This dress didn’t exactly lend itself to one.”
“Seriously, Phoebe?” he replies, biting his finger between his teeth.
“And I’m taking my panties off, are you kidding me? It’s a thong. it’s been between my sweaty ass cheeks all night,” I add, placing a hand on my hip.
“I know what a thong is, Phoebe. You don’t need to spell it out for me,” he quickly replies, running his hands through his hair.
