Page 34 of Quarantine Crush
I laugh, the sound a little muffled by the painter’s masks we’re both wearing. “You sure you don’t want some of his underwear line?”
“You thinking about my da dunk a dunks, Hess?”
My cheeks heat as the elevator doors slide open, and I quickly step out, not willing to linger on thoughts of Knox’s underwear for too long. Knox’s laughter follows me, and I do my best to ignore the way it sends a skitter up my spine.
I push open the door to my building, smiling at the delivery guy waiting outside.
“Hey,” he says through a cloth mask. “You Embry?”
I nod, and he hands over our order. “Thank you.”
He waves before slipping back into his car and heading off to his next delivery. My eyes take in the usually busy street, and I frown.
“It looks so weird out here,” I tell Knox as he pulls the boxes from my hands.
He nods his agreement. “I’ve never seen New York so deserted. It’s kinda creepy. Although, I did see a wedding earlier that was pretty awesome. They stood right in the middle of the road.”
We slip back inside the building and make our way to the mailboxes.
“Check it out,” I say, nudging Knox with my elbow. He lets out a low chuckle as we take in the woman wearing a Buzz Lightyear space helmet. Suddenly, the plain painter’s masks we’re wearing seem incredibly lame.
“Aw man, I should’ve worn my unicorn costume,” I mutter. “Now I feel ridiculously underdressed.”
Knox turns his startled gaze to me. “You have a unicorn costume?” he asks.
I pull my mail from my box and shrug. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“I have so many questions,” Knox says as he trails me to the elevator. I shake my head, my focus on the stack of mail in my hands.
The elevator doors ding, and I step forward without glancing up. I slam into a hard body, and my arms flail, sending my mail scattering. Strong arms wrap around my waist, preventing me from tumbling backward on my ass. I glance up, words of gratitude on my tongue, and smile as I take in the familiar, warm, brown eyes.
“Nice save,” I say, the words throaty.
Reed’s eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles down at me. A flash blinds me, and I blink up at him in confusion, but his expression is equally bewildered.
“I’m sorry,” the woman in the astronaut helmet says. “You guys looked too stinking cute. You look like you belong on the cover of a romance novel. Look,” she says, turning her phone for us to see.
I blink at the screen. Reed’s strong arms hold me in a deep dip while mail is scattered all around me, and I have to admit she’s not wrong. A throat clears behind me. Knox’s jaw is clenched, his eyes murderous as he takes in the way Reed’s hands grip my waist, and I scramble from his grip.
“Not to sound like a broken record,” Knox says, “but this kind of closeness will probably get you a citation these days.”
I scowl but otherwise ignore him.
“Thanks for the assist,” I tell Reed as I drop to my knees and begin to collect my mail. He crouches beside me, helping to gather the envelopes.
“It’s no problem,” he says. His eyes drift past me to where Knox stands, gripping the boxes of pizza in a white-knuckled grip. “Italian twice in one day, huh?”
I shoot him an embarrassed smile, not that he can see it behind my mask. “Oh my goodness. I planned to send you a thank you note when I dropped your Tupperware back off. Thank you for that. It was so delicious.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“Emy, we should probably get going,” Knox says, his tone hard. “Pizza’s getting cold.”
I glance back at him, my brows wrinkling in confusion and irritation at his rudeness, before turning back to Reed.
“He’s probably right. I’ll drop your dishes back off tomorrow.”
“No rush,” he says, handing me the last of my mail. “It was good to see you again, Knox,” Reed says. He gives my hand a little squeeze. “See you around, Em,” he says before heading toward the bank of mailboxes.
