Page 85 of Pick Me
By the time Knox and I had picked ourselves off the floor, we’d barely had the energy to stumble into Knox’s bedroom, all sticky and sweaty. Knox had shucked what was left of his jeans before pulling me down and rolling on top of me, and we’d fallen asleep just like that—in a naked, tangled heap on top of the blankets—while it was still light outside.
Fortunately, nobody came to collect us for dinner, which meant no Sunday eyeballs had to be bleached from the horror.
A couple of hours later, though, when it was fully dark and quiet outside, we’d woken up to shower and eat toast standing up in the kitchen. I’d snort-laughed when Knox had stepped on the missing button of his jeans and gone hopping around the room on one foot, because I was a sympathetic individual that way.
Knox had retaliated by holding my toast in the air with one hand—the tall bastard—and not giving it back until I’d said the words “Knox Sunday is a sex god,” but the joke was on him because I would have said it anyway, especially if I’d known he’d kiss me breathless afterward.
We’d ended up back in his bed, curled up with me behind him for some reason, watching a boring-as-fuck zombie movie.
Knox had fallen asleep almost right away, which left me tired but wired, sleepy but awake, lying on my side in the cramped valley between Knox’s broad, warm back and the wall, unable to move his bulk without waking him.
It was a breeding ground for overthinking.
I was not an overthinker by nature. In fact, several people who shared my DNA would probably say I was anunderthinker when it came to certain things—case in point: me ending up trapped in a bed, in the apartment over a barn-slash-gift shop, in a little orchard, outside a tiny town, an hour away from the closest city, fifteen hundred miles from home, with the lumberjack lover of my dreams, who’d heard me confess that I was upset at his lies because I’dthought I was special to himand had promptly shut down the conversation by fucking me senseless.
I mean, as distraction techniques went, this was a ten out of ten, and I was not complaining. But it was also a reminder that my plan of just enjoying this thing with Knox for as long as it lasted was… you know…flawed.
The kind of flawed that would end in great personal disappointment if I didn’t start drawing some boundaries.
I pushed gently at his shoulder, hoping he’d roll onto his stomach without protest so I could make my way to my own bed, but of course, even in sleep Knox had his own ideas.
“Mm-mm.” He captured my hand in one of his and pulled me so that my arm was around him, curling himself into a ball to do so. It was adorable—or would have been, if I’d had big-spoon-sized arms.
“Knox,” I whispered. “Move.”
He didn’t budge.
For a guy who used to have trouble sleeping, he seemed to have no problem when he was with me… which was both an insult and the highest possible compliment.
“Shove over. I have to get up.”
He made the same negative sound as before.
I huffed out a breath. “Knox, I can’t sleep like this.”
Knox groaned, clearly put out, but instead of rolling away so I’d leave him be, he rolled onto his back, pulled me all the way over him so I was lying flat on the bed on the other side, then locked me in place with his thigh thrown over mine and his arm over my stomach. He made a satisfied little noise as he drifted back to sleep.
Knox the Stealth Cuddler would not be stopped.
So I did what anyone in that position would do.
I laughed.
I clapped a hand over my mouth to hold it in, but when the full hilarity of the situation—my life with the cows and the dream job I hadn’t snapped up and the gorgeous lumberjack holding me like I was his teddy bear—hit me, I couldn’t help myself. Giddy mirth bubbled up inside me and spilled over until I was shaking the bed with it and tears were running down my face.
“Wha—?” Knox grumbled, blinking his eyes open. “Wait, is the movie over? Did the zombies live?”
I laughed harder, and his arm tightened around me, like he wanted to pull my laughter into him… or maybe like he just wanted me to shut the fuck up and let him sleep.
“Sorry,” I sighed a moment later. I sniffed and patted his arm soothingly. “Sorry, something just struck me as funny, but I’m done now. Go back to sleep, baby.”
He grunted in reply, but his fingers tensed on my waist.
“Goodman? Can’t sleep likethis,” Knox whined softly, repeating my words from earlier. He pushed against me like he wanted me to move, but there was nowhere for me to go while he was holding me except the floor.
“Roll over, then,” I said gently.
“No, I mean… Can’t sleep likethis.” He pushed against me again, but this time he gave a roll of his hips that slid his erection against my bare thigh.
