The Locker Room(97)

Its why I’m thrumming with excitement, pacing back and forth, waiting for him to come to my apartment.

From outside, a car beeps, stilling my pacing. I run to the window where I catch a glimpse of Knox walking to the back door.

He’s here.

I scan my clothing one last time, a simple nighttime romper with nothing underneath it. Check my hair, cute and styled—I might have taken a shower and made myself more presentable after work. And pop my lips, making sure my Chapstick is still fresh.

Pleased with how I look, I run over to the door and fling it open, just in time for Knox to be at the front. His smile consumes me, and I can’t help myself as I leap into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist. He holds me with ease and works his hands up my back, a chuckle on his tongue.

Hands gripping my ass, he walks into the apartment and slams the door with his foot, only to spin me around and plaster me against the wood. His lips find mine with greedy hunger, and his fingers dig into the flesh of my butt, sliding beneath the shorts of my romper. Although I’m not comfortable with the weight I’ve put on, his love of my body—his desire for my body—is helping. Just as he helped my broken heart all those years ago.

Groaning, he pulls away and observes my outfit. My nipples are puckered and poking against the fabric of my romper. There is no disguising how turned on I am. “Are you wearing anything under this?”

I shake my head. “No. Thought you’d want easy access.”

“Fuck, babe, you know me so well.”

I reach in for another kiss but when he pulls me away and sets me on my feet, I’m thoroughly confused.

“We need to talk.”

And just like that, my heart plummets to the floor. Those four words are a death sentence to every relationship. Nothing good comes from “we need to talk.”

“About what?” I ask, feeling almost stupid for being so excited that he was here.

He takes my hands and leads me to the couch where we sit. Still holding my hand, he links his fingers with mine and when he stares at me, I see unmistakable adoration. I realize I’m not about to experience heartache, but I’m about to embark on a journey.

“I love you, Em, more than anything, but we have some hurt feelings between us. Some things were said, some misunderstandings, years of neglect to our friendship.”

“Yeah, I know.” I lower my head but he tilts my chin up high.

“We could rehash it,” he continues. “We could pivot around in circles until we’re blue in the face, but I don’t want to do that. I want to build off what we have and make this into something more. I know what you did in college was selfless, wanting me to focus on baseball, I get that completely now, and it’s one of the many reasons why I love you so much. But I want you to listen to me when I say, my life is a thousand times better with you in it. However I can take you. Over the last few years when our communication started to dwindle, something deep within me was missing, and when I saw you for the first time in the library, that something resurfaced. Anger overshadowed it for a second, but once that blew away, I realized, it’s you I want, you I need.”

Beyond the point of an emotional basket case, I attempt to blink back the tears, but it’s no use. They fall, but he catches them on his thumbs.

“I want to move past the hurt and the pain, and I want to focus on the good with you. The fun, the jokes, the teasing . . . the passion. I want all of it.” He swipes another tear. “Do you want that, Em?”

I nod, not giving a second to consider. “I want nothing more.”

The corner of his lips curve as he reaches into his pocket. “Perfect, I was hoping you were going to say that because I have something for you.” From his pocket, he pulls out a flashy, silver object and hands it over.

I take it out of his palm and look at the medallion. “What’s this? A keychain?”

He chuckles and rubs his thumb over my furrowed brow. “Sort of. It’s a key to my apartment. I want you to move in with me.”

“Wait?” I look at the circular object. “How is this a key?”

“It’s magnetic, fancy shit.” He takes my hand in his. “Did you hear me? I want you to move in.”

Yeah, I heard him, and I’m trying not to jump out of my skin in excitement. But just to be sure, I say, “You don’t think it’s too early?”

“No.”

He’s so confident, so sure in this decision that I want to test him a little bit more, because my answer is on the tip of my tongue, but I want to make sure this is what he truly wants.

“We just got back together like twenty-four hours ago, and you want me to move in?”

“Yeah, because it feels like we’ve been together forever. You’re the one I want everything from, Em. I’m giving you my heart and soul and . . . my apartment.” He glances around my tiny studio. “I can’t have you living here, not with the hooligans outside and the lock that barely works on your door. I was fucking worried sick, knowing this is where you live. It’s not safe, and I need you safe for my own peace of mind.”

I hold up the keychain thing. “And I’m guessing your place is safe?”

“Very.” He winks. “Plus, it has amenities.”

“This place has amenities.” I point to the floor. “Did you not see the easily accessible deli below?”