The Locker Room(52)

Knox: I’m not average, babe. In any way. Plan to be wooed Friday night, think you can handle it?

Emory: Easy. I’m just wondering if you’ll be able to handle the dress I’m planning to wear.

Knox: Bring it, Ealson.

Emory: Get ready to take a trip to Boner Town.

Knox: Erection City, here I come, I just booked a one-way trip.





“Oh my God, he’s going to die.”

I glance in the mirror, twirling so I can look at my backside. “You think so? The dress isn’t too much?”

“Not at all,” Dottie says, sitting on my bed. “And your hair, the honey highlights you added are gorgeous. They highlight your eyes.”

I sift my fingers through the soft waves. I took a chance and got my hair done today, adding some honey coloring and more layers. It’s not much of a change, just enough to make an impact. I spent the afternoon after classes primping for my date. I shaved all over, lotioned every last inch of my body with my best bergamot lotions, spent at least an hour on my makeup, and thankfully my hairdresser did my hair.

And the dress? Yellow with a razorback and deep V in the front. The fabric clings to every piece of my body and the hem hits at mid-thigh. I paired the dress with white heels and a white peacoat. It is winter, after all.

Knock. Knock.

“Ah, he’s here,” Lindsay screams while running in place.

“Settle down.” I laugh. “We’ve seen him before.”

“But this is different. You guys are taking things to the next level. What if he proposes tonight?”

“Oh my God.” I roll my eyes. “We hardly see each other, but he’s proposing? Get your shit together, Lindsay.”

She tamps down her excitement. “Sorry, I got a little overzealous there. Want me to get the door?”

“Sure. I’m going to apply my lipstick one more time.” I chose a subtle pink, but it gives my lips one solid color.

Lindsay takes off toward the door while I reapply and then fluff my hair. Dottie comes up next to me and says, “You look perfect, Emory. Enjoy tonight and let down your shield. He’s a good guy, better than Neil ever was.” She gives me a side hug and then takes off toward the common room where Lindsay is gushing over Knox.

“Oh my God, could that shirt be any tighter. Look at your biceps.” His deep laugh floats into my room.

“I shrunk it on purpose. Did it do the trick?” I can imagine him flexing his biceps for Lindsay.

“Oh yes, is that a six-pack or an eight-pack? Can I feel?”

I take that moment to step out of my bedroom. “There will be no feeling of Knox’s abs.”

Knox spins around and the look on his face when he sees me is entirely too satisfying and something I’ll remember for a very long time. His eyes peruse my body slowly as his hand drags over his mouth.

“Holy . . . shit,” he says under his breath, taking a step forward. “Babe, you look . . . fuck, you look good.”

“Thank you.” He snags his hand around my waist and pulls me in close. He sifts his fingers through my hair, examining my new locks.

“This is sexy. I liked your hair before, but I like this even more.” He glances down. “And your tits, fuck you’re going to kill me with those things. Our bet was only about sex, right? I can suck on these tonight?”

Dottie snorts from behind.

“It’s any kind of sex acts.” I pat his cheek and then slide my hands over his black tight-fitting button-up shirt. Lindsay was right; you can see every curve of his strength through this fabric. His biceps are bulging, threatening to tear through the material. His pecs test the sturdiness of the buttons, and the taper of the shirt clings to his narrow hips, where he’s tucked the hem into a pair of dark-wash jeans with a belt that sits low. Super sexy. “You look really good.” I want him to know I just don’t bust his balls, but I can appreciate everything about him. Why the hell did we make this bet? I want to climb him.

“Thank you.” He lifts his hands to my cheeks where he lightly presses a kiss against my lips.

“Oh my God, they’re sickeningly cute, aren’t they?” Lindsay asks.

“Unfairly made for each other,” Dottie answers.

Even though I want to keep my heart out of this as much as possible, because I’m still trying to put it back together, it’s hard not to agree with them.





“I’m obsessed with this,” I say, taking in the carts moving around the dining space. “Am I dressed too fancy for this place?” I scan the other patrons and take in their simple street clothing.

“You’re dressed perfectly . . . for me. Who cares what everyone else thinks?”

After Lindsay and Dottie gushed for five more minutes, we left in Knox’s truck and drove along the lake parkway until we came to Sauce and Dumplings, a beautiful dim sum restaurant right on the water. I’ve heard a lot of students talk about it but haven’t been before. The surroundings are beautiful with the panoramic views of the lake, but since we’re in a college town, the attire isn’t as fancy as the candlelit restaurant.

But that’s okay, because Knox is right: it’s only about us.

We started out with tea that Knox didn’t touch but instead ordered a Coke. Then some wanton soup, and now we’re on to the main course that will be delivered on the carts. We’ve ordered a few different dumplings that I can’t wait to sink my teeth into.