Page 37 of Knot Guilty

Not trusting my voice, I whisper a simple thanks. Aaron opens his fist, and I pluck the ring from his hand, turning toward the one place I don’t want to be. Alone.

It’s just before twenty-one hundred, and all is quiet when I enter the lobby. My wobbly first few steps make me think the stairs are a bad idea. Elevator, it is.

On the way up, I consider collecting Gunny tonight, but one look at me, and Bonnie will have dozens of questions. Isn’t that odd? She doesn’t want to be alone, but she doesn’t want to talk. Giving my inner bitch voice the finger, I decide to put off facing Bonnie and her anticipated questions tomorrow.

The slow elevator finally stops on my floor, and the doors slide open. As I step into the hall, I zero in on a tall someone waiting outside my apartment.

Maxen is still in his Knot uniform and leans a shoulder against my door. I freeze at the sight as he slowly lifts his attention from his phone screen. The phone goes into his pocket, and he pushes himself upright, all without breaking eye contact with me.

I snap out of my momentary paralysis and start moving again. Maxen steps aside when I reach the door, watching intently as I jam the key into the cylinder.

Without any sort of greeting or welcome, I shove my way inside, leaving the door open for my unexpected guest. I’ve stripped off everything above the waist and am halfway to my bathroom when I hear the front door close and lock.

I could have issued Maxen an invitation to join me for a shower, but I don’t feel like talking to him any more than I felt like talking to Bonnie, or Aaron, for that matter.

Maxen’s a big boy. He’ll either figure it out or he won’t.

I’m sitting on my bed, untying my boots, when Maxen darkens my bedroom doorway. He watches as I stand, kick off my shoes, and strip off the rest of my clothes.

With me totally naked, Maxen steps forward but keeps his eyes on mine.

“Sadie.”

I cut him off with a raised hand and step into the bathroom, leaving him staring after me. I can’t handle words right now.

A loud thunk sounds outside the bathroom as I turn on the shower faucet. Not curious in the least about the noise, I close my eyes and lean my hands against the counter, waiting for the water to heat.

Minutes pass with me still in the same position, though the bathroom has long since filled with steam. I should either get in the shower or turn off the water, but I can’t find it in me to move.

At some point, Maxen must figure out that I wasn’t rejecting him, just any and all conversation. Deft fingers inch around my waist once he steps into the bathroom. I don’t respond, and he slides his hands up to my shoulders to dig into tense muscles.

Maxen attempts to loosen the kinks, and my head lolls forward as a breathy groan spills from my lips. The massage feels heavenly, but that feeling is cut short when Maxen’s touch leaves my skin.

I lift my head to look in the mirror and watch him reach into the shower to turn off the water. Maxen’s shirt is gone, as are his boots, but he’s still in his tactical pants and belt.

My eyes lock onto his in the mirror, and his hands go right back to work on my tense shoulders.

Instead of the expert massage I’m getting, I focus on his face. I wish so much I could read him, know what he’s thinking. That I can’t frustrates the hell out of me. Especially now that Aaron and Maxen both indicated that I harbor no mysteries.

I inwardly curse this blind spot that I have and push off the counter, suddenly needing to be in control of something I do understand.

Turning around, I claw at Maxen’s pants, frantic and intending to undo the belt at his waist. He grabs my wrists, stopping me entirely and, honestly, pissing me off a little. Maxen forces my hands behind my back and holds them hostage in one of his.

Still without speaking, Maxen lifts his free hand, caressing the backs of his fingers down my cheek. He then cups that cheek and traces his thumb over my bottom lip. I’m helpless, trapped by his hands and hypnotized by his eyes.

I hate that he can see my pain and weakness and pull against his hold on me. Maxen doesn’t allow me to budge until releasing me completely, only to pick me up and carry me from the bathroom. Back out in the bedroom, Maxen swings by to turn off the lights and walks us to the bed, still holding me in his arms.

His hand at my back moves just long enough to pull back the covers, and then I’m gently laid on the bed. Maxen finally sheds the rest of his clothes and climbs in beside me, but his next moves are simply pulling the sheet up over us and gathering me to his chest. Surprisingly I let him do it.

I fall asleep to the slight touch of his fingertips trailing up and down my spine and his lips at my temple.

Morning brings with it a warm body at my back and a hand draped across my hip. This is a first for me. I’ve never stayed over or let a man stay over after sex. I’ve certainly never just slept with a man before. I think, maybe, I don’t mind it.

I stretch my legs out, brushing my ass against Maxen’s morning wood. He doesn’t stir with the movement, so I lie a while longer, analyzing my feelings over this new experience.

The sun's angle outside my bedroom window tells me it’s after zero eight hundred. I must have slept like the dead.

Dammit. Dead. Brock.

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