Page 4 of Quarantine Crush
Another knock sounds from the front door, this time a little louder.
“Coming!” I call loudly as I jump up.
“Not yet, but hopefully you will be soon.” Nina’s naughty words are met with another round of snorting laughter from my friends, and I flip them the bird before crossing to the chair in the corner of my room. I riffle through my bag as I pad back across the room, pulling Hadley’s “surprise” from my purse.
A tiny bottle of 151 is nestled inside the shot glass from last night. I don’t even think twice. I uncap the rum, pour it into the glass, and throw it back before I can second-guess myself.
With one last ruffle of my long, blonde waves, I blow my friends a kiss and shut my laptop, silencing their shouts of encouragement.
I rush from my room, chewing the inside of my lip nervously as my eyes dart over my tidy apartment one last time, allowing them to linger on my favorite piece of decor–the telephone box bookcase that Knox bought me as a housewarming gift–before pulling open the front door.
Heat rushes through my body as I take in the sight of Knox leaning casually against the hallway wall outside my door. He’s wearing faded jeans and a long-sleeved tee pushed up to his elbows with his alma mater’s logo printed across the front. It’s a change from the suit and tie I normally see him wearing during our video calls. More casual. And somehow sexier.
His warm, honey-colored eyes take me in while a smile pulls at one side of his lips as he reads the words written across my chest. My nipples harden against his attention, and I thank God for the invention of padded bras.
“Hey, Knox.” The words come out breathy, and I clear my throat before shooting him a grin.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” The words are low and playful. He looks past my shoulder as though I’m hiding someone behind me. “I was looking for my childhood friend, Emy. Always in pj’s. Messy hair. Always with her nose stuck in a book. Sound familiar?”
“Ha-ha,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’m not always in my pj’s, you jerk.”
“Could have fooled me. After our million Facetimes, I was starting to wonder if you owned real clothes.” His eyes do a second sweep, and damn if my body doesn’t respond, tingling and tightening in excitement.
He’s here.
He’s really, truly here. After all this time.
“Stop moving halfway across the world, and you’d see what I look like during the daytime hours more often.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before I feel Knox’s strong arms wrap around me. My breath whooshes out of me as I’m lifted off my feet. Knox presses his face to my neck, holding me against his chest as he crushes me in a hug. The hard planes of his body feel like they’re made for the softer curves of my own, and my heart pounds painfully against my ribs. I say a quick prayer that this FlipFlop won’t...well, flop, then I wind my arms around his neck and breathe in the smoky sandalwood scent that smells like home.
2
Embry
“Ican’t believe you still have that shirt,” he says, pulling back. A lazy smile spreads across his face, and I know what he’s thinking right now. Our mutual love of this song is an homage to an innocent kiss we shared when we were kids. Unfortunately, even the mere hint of a kiss is enough to send me spiraling right now, so I duck my head as I usher him inside.
“This shirt has been through almost as much shit as we have,” I say, and he laughs as he grabs his bags from the floor.
My eyes land on the smaller of the bags, and I grin.
“Did you bring the goods?” I ask.
Knox grins a wolfish grin. “You know it. Be prepared to go down, Hess. I’ve got some particularly terrible entries for this contest,” he says as he follows me into my apartment.
His scent trails after him like a superpower, and I force myself to breathe through my nose.It’s just Knox. He’s been your best friend since you were kids. Play it cool, I remind myself.
“Cool place,” he says, looking around.
I shrug, watching him take in the warm reds and soft grays of the furniture and artwork. The sliding glass door that opens to a balcony off the living room faces west, so the room gets good afternoon light. The view from the balcony is one of my favorite things about the place. “It’s nothing fancy, but I’ve had fun decorating it over the last year. You’ll probably recognize a lot of it,” I say, motioning toward the bookshelf, throw pillows, and other knick-knacks he’s given me over the years. “It’s nice to have something that’s mine.”
Rent in New York is hella expensive, but I’ve managed to scrape by with the graphic design work I do for our dads’ company.
He meets my eyes, and there’s a note of apology in his relaxed expression. “I’m sorry, Emy. The bookcase looks great. I knew you’d love it. Still, it shouldn’t have taken me a year to see your first place in person. It’s been way too damn long.”
“Kind of a long commute for movie night, though,” I tell him, and he laughs, throwing an arm around my shoulders. We’ve had movie nights before, watching the same movie while Facetiming, but being in his presence again for the first time in years makes me realize how much I’ve missed him.
“Good point. Now that I’m here though, maybe we can make up for some lost time?” His grin is the same lopsided smile that sent butterflies through me at sixteen, but there’s a magnetism behind it now that makes me weak in the knees.
