The Locker Room(29)

The way he shifts and the tightness of his shirt, I catch glimpses of the six-pack that’s beneath the neoprene fabric of his shirt. And I shouldn’t forget to mention the slight bulge I always see when he’s wearing sweatpants. He’s big. His hands, his legs, his shoulders, wide and broad, and if he wasn’t so nice, I’d be intimidated by his sharp features and mesmerizing eyes that always hide under the bill of a hat.

“Have you always been a ball-buster, Em?”

“Not always,” I answer honestly. “Took me a while to find enough courage to show my true self around guys.”

“Really? Were you demure and quiet?”

“Pretty much.” I take a big lick of my ice cream. “I was shy growing up, but it wasn’t until college I actually let my true colors show. I think it was one of the things my ex started to really dislike about me. Probably what drove him away. He hated my jokes, my teasing, my outspokenness around his friends.” I twist my lips to the side. “Now that I think about it, he would always reprimand me after, telling me not to talk to his friends like that.”

“Sounds like your ex was a real dick.”

“He wasn’t at first. He kind of swept me off my feet in high school. Very charming, friends with everyone, took me under his wing and challenged me to break out of my shell.” I glance up. “Kind of like you.”

His brows draw together, and I can tell he didn’t like that comment at all, but I think it’s fair for him to know where my apprehension is.

“I’m not like him, Em.”

“You don’t know him.”

He sits taller in his chair. “And you don’t know me well enough to make that assumption.”

“I don’t.” I hang my head, feeling a little guilty.

“Then get to know me.” He leans over and lifts my chin. “Like I said, I’m an open book, Em.”

Instead of anger, all I see is kindness, understanding, and if that’s not my undoing, it’s the smile that trails after.

Whispering, he continues, “Ask me anything.”

I bite my bottom lip, trying to figure out what I should ask. What do I want to know?

“Don’t be shy,” he adds, casually draping his arm over the back of his chair. “I’ll answer anything.”

Honesty. If there is one trait I see in Knox, it’s honesty. He knows how attractive he is, that eyes follow him when he enters any room. Yet he doesn’t look for that attention. He’s not exactly humble, but he is . . . unassuming. When Neil walked into a room, it was with attention-seeking noise. As if everyone in the room was much better because of his presence. Asshole. As much as I hate comparing the two, Neil had been the man in my life for too long not to. Until he wasn’t.

And now there’s Knox, a naturally charismatic, driven male, who’s made more effort for me to notice him. So perhaps . . .

“Okay,” I say. “Why are you so interested in me?”

“Because anyone who slaps me with a campus map in the face is someone I want to get to know.”

“And here I thought you would say anyone who has a boob that can make me pass out is someone I want to get to know.”

He chuckles. “The heaviness of said tit was just too overwhelming, and I had no choice but to take a nap mid lift.”

“They’re not that heavy.”

“I can’t remember. Here, let me reacquaint myself.” He reaches his hand out, but I playfully slap it away.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“In a good way.” He pops the rest of his ice cream in his mouth and wipes his hands with a napkin while I finish my ice cream as well.

“Be serious, why are you interested in me?”

He shifts in his seat, striking a very relaxed pose. “Fishing for compliments, Ealson?”

“No, just wondering why you’re after me when you could have any girl on campus.”

“Is it too far-fetched to say that you interest me? Do I need a specific reason drummed up in a romantic fashion, written on cream paper in calligraphy and in the form of poetry?”

“No, smart-ass.” I laugh. “But I don’t consider myself particularly special.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong. You’re all kinds of special, and I intend on showing you that.”

“You really think you can win me over?”

He drums his knuckles on the metal table between us. “I know I can win you over. It’s just a matter of time.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “We’ll see about that.”

“Is that a challenge, Ealson?”

“It very well might be,” I counter.

He reaches across the table, extending his hand out for me to take. “Then challenge accepted.”

Because I like to give in to his antics, I take his hand in mine and shake on it, knowing his satisfied, gorgeous smile is what I’ll remember as I fall asleep tonight.





Chapter Twelve





EMORY





I challenged Knox on Thursday night, or did he challenge me? I don’t know, but there was a challenge set and now it’s Monday.

I haven’t heard a word from him.

Not even a peep.