The Locker Room(36)

Every month, like clockwork, I get migraines that seem to cut me off at the knees. I was getting ready to see Knox when the nausea hit. A few minutes later, the pain behind my eyes struck, followed quickly by severe sinus pain. Shit. I knew at that moment I wasn’t going anywhere but horizontal. Once a migraine hits, there’s nothing I can do but let my body rest. I tried drinking water, threw some Ibuprofen at it, even some Icy Hot on my neck and shoulders, although nothing made a dent. The migraine hit me head-on—no pun intended—and I was out. Completely immobilized.

After throwing up twice, I was able to make it to my bed and turn off the lights with the help of Lindsay and Dottie. They set me up with a dark room, a trash bin next to my bed in case I was sick again, and a big cup of water.

I asked them to let Knox know, feeling terrible, but there is no way I would have been able to make it out of my room, my bed, let alone to a party. Noise. Movement. Light. All too much.

No, this is where I’m staying tonight.

I finally get into my new position, my head pounding relentlessly. I hear the door to our suite open, but I have no recollection of time at this point, so I’m assuming it’s Lindsay and Dottie. When the door to my room partly opens, bringing in a little bit of light, I’m grateful for my eye mask.

“How was the party?” I croak. “Were you able to tell Knox I couldn’t make it?”

“They did,” a deep voice comes from the other side of the room, startling me.

“Knox?” I push my eye mask up and blink a few times, letting my pupils adjust to the sliver of light in the room.

“No, don’t move.” He’s quickly at my side, setting a backpack down and sitting on the mattress. His hand goes to my head where he lightly strokes my hair. “Hey you. Are you okay?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath as my head continues to pound. “Nope,” I squeak out.

“Shit, okay. What can I do?”

“Shut the door.”

“Sure.” He gets up and shuts the door. He returns to my side and strokes my forehead with his thumb. “What else? Can I get you anything to eat, drink? Any medicine? Heating pads?”

“No. Can’t think about eating anything right now.”

“Understandable. Have you thrown up again?”

“Oh God, they told you that?”

“Yeah, and I’m glad they did. My mom had headaches like this, and do you know what would help her?”

“What?” I ask, draping my hand over my head.

“My dad. He always helped.” I hear Knox kick off his shoes and then he climbs over me so he’s behind me. He scoots under the covers carefully, obviously trying not to rock the mattress too much, and slides his body against mine. “Is it okay if I hold you?”

“When have you ever cared about asking?” I chuckle.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’d never hurt me. I know that at this point. Abandoning a party to make sure I was okay? That’s coming from a man who doesn’t have a hurtful bone in his body.

And honestly, at this point, there’s no fight left in me. It seems inevitable. No matter how hard I try to keep my distance, he’s going to be in my life.

“I’m not going to break,” I tell him, and then I take a leap of faith. “Hold me, Knox. I want you to hold me.”

His hand slides around my stomach and instead of pulling me into his chest, he moves his body closer to mine carefully. How he knows not to rattle me too much is astounding. Never once did Neil care for me in this compassionate, thoughtful, and selfless way. Knox’s touch is gentle, soothing, and when he finally fits himself along my body, I can feel my muscles start to relax, and I melt into him.

“Is that okay?” he whispers, his voice like a velvety caress over my bare shoulder.

“Perfect,” I sigh. “Thank you.”

He kisses my shoulder and says, “Get some sleep, Em. I’m not going anywhere.”

And he doesn’t.





The first thing that wakes me up the next morning isn’t the sun beaming through my dorm window, nor is it Lindsay’s morning jams subtly coming through the wall. It’s the large hand that’s splayed across my stomach, a gentle thumb moving up and down the silk fabric of my camisole.

My migraine is gone, but my muscles are still tense in my neck, which always happens, but I’ll take it over the incessant pounding in my head.

“Are you awake?” Knox’s voice whispers, his breath minty fresh, his body lying on top of the covers.

I peek an eye open to find him hovering over me, a concerned look on his face.

I bring my sheet up to my mouth and say, “Hey.”

He smiles. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you.” I take him in and notice his hair is wet. “Did you take a shower?”

He nods. “Didn’t think you’d want to hang out with me after my morning conditioning.”

“You worked out?” My eyes pop open even more. “It’s a Sunday, you have conditioning on a Sunday?”

“Just a quick morning run, not the entire team, just me.”

“What is quick in your book?”

“Two miles.”

“Oh.” I twist so I’m lying on my back. “That is quick.”