Page 13 of The Perfect Spiral
He chuckled. “Aw, don’t stop on my account, baby doll. I was enjoying the show.”
To my irritation, he stepped closer. “Why?”
“You’re too close and I don’t like you, that’s why.”
He took another step closer, practically backing me up against the kitchen counter and blocking me in with a wall of muscle. “You in my jersey with nothing underneath tells me otherwise.”
“I wear it because it’s big and comfortable. Not for any other reason,” I mumbled.
“Whatever the reason, baby doll, my name looks really good on you.”
His big, warm hand trailed teasingly up my bare thigh and I let out an embarrassing squeak. Even I wasn’t immune to thehottest hunk in the NFL invading my personal space like he wanted to eat me instead of the pancakes.
Licking his lips and lifting the left side of his lip up into his signature smirk that always managed to piss me off, he looked at me. His hair was dark and messy. His piercing blue gaze was haunting, and it was locked on me. There were beads of sweat trickling down his perfectly sculpted body.
I turned and accidentally knocked a few cups to the ground.
“Shit!” I muffled my curse.
“Here, I’ll help,” Knox offered, crouching down to pick up the cups. Once he’d finished stacking them, he rose back up, towering over me.
He cupped his ear, leaning in closer, and said, “What? I don’t think I heard that! Was that a thanks?”
I hit him on the chest, feeling a jolt of electricity through my hand. Damn those electric shocks!
“Shut up, Knox,” I snapped.
He groaned as if in pain. “Say my name again,” he pleaded. Seriously, what is with him? He’s acting so weird today. “No!” I retorted, trying to brush past him. He grabbed my hand and held me there.
“How’d you like your seats?” he asked genuinely.
~This is just too weird right now. His hand feels like it’s burning my skin. What does he want from me?!
“They were comfy, thanks. You didn’t have to get them for us. We would’ve been perfectly fine with economy seats,” I replied. He let go of my hand, seemingly satisfied with my answer, and nodded.
“I wanted to,” he said simply.
I spun away from him and made a beeline for the pantry to get an ingredient for the pancakes. I stood on my tiptoes, reaching for the baking powder on the top shelf, muttering curses under my breath as my fingers barely grazed the edge.
Footsteps behind me, and before I could protest, a warm body was suddenly at my back. Knox’s arm stretched up easily beside me, his chest brushing against mine as he plucked the container down without effort.
“I had it,” I said, my voice tight.
“Sure you did,” he murmured, his lips too close to my ear.
I turned and glared up at him—emphasis on up. “God, you’re tall,” I couldn’t help but say, immediately regretting it.
He smirked, the kind of cocky and dangerous that made my stomach flip. “And you’re adorable when you’re pretending not to need me.”
“I don’t need you,” I said, sharper than I meant to.
“Maybe not,” he said, “but you want me.”
“I don’t,” I whispered, even though my body was already betraying me—my breath shallow, my pulse racing, my skin prickling from how close he was.
He tilted his head, that maddening smirk tugging at his lips. “You sure about that, baby doll? Because right now, I can see exactly what you want.”
He stepped forward and I caught a whiff of his scent—clean sweat, cedar, and something unmistakably Knox. It was dizzying, intimate, and I hated how much it affected me. “You want me to take you in my arms, lift you up, press you against this pantry wall, and kiss you until you forget every reason why you think this is a bad idea.”
