Page 133 of Close Knit

I frown. There has to be something I can do to make her feel good. To take care of her the way she does for me. “I typically have enough tools in my toolbox.”

“This isn’t about your tool or your toolbox, which we both know have never failed me before. This just happens. Even when I’m alone.”

“Can you explain it to me?”

“I’ll do my best.” She sits up on the bed and hesitates for a few moments, seemingly turning over the words in her head. “It’s like every part of my mental and emotional state wants you to shred me to pieces.” She laughs awkwardly. “I’m in the most romantic place in the world with the most gorgeous man—and you’re wearing that mouthwatering hoop earring—but it’s out of our hands.”

I hear her, I really do, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve lost when I’m meant to be her winner.

“Stupid side effects.”

“Tell me about it.” She playfully rolls her eyes.

I am so glad we’re here. Neither of us has seen the northern lights, and it felt like the perfect thing to add to her Yes Year experiences list. However, now my big romantic gesture is feeling like a failure. Well, more accurately, I am.

“All right.” I resign, put on my boxer briefs, and help Daphne get dressed, covering her forehead in kisses. The last thing I want to do is admit to her how insufficient I’m feeling right now. It’s like I’ve let her down in some crucial way. I want to make her feel good, not just physically, but emotionally. I want her to know she’s cherished, desired, and seen. “Is there anything I can do for you? To make you feel good right now?”

“We’re literally in an igloo in Finland. The snow is falling, and there are miles of stars in the sky. All I really want is to feel close to you.”

I kiss her hand. “I do too, sweet girl.” I want to be the man who makes her feel appreciated. “How about we cuddle and watch a movie?” I offer.

“Absolutely,” she says. There’s a small twinkle in her eyes of something more. “And maybe you can give me a massage?”

“You’d like that?”

“Um, yes.” She giggles. “I still want to be touched by you. You know, without the pressure of it needing to end somewhere.”

“Sounds perfect to me. Get comfortable. I’ll throw on a movie and grab some lotion.”

“Now that’s five-star service.”

I grab the remote, flicking through the channels. “On a scale ofUptoPast Lives,what level of tears are we thinking?”

“That may be the sexiest question you’ve ever asked me.”

I chuckle. “Fuck yeah, crying movies.”

“All right, now I know you’re flirting with me.” Daphne playfully tosses a pillow my way. I catch it and set it on the bed.

“I’m always flirting with you.”

Her cheeks blush. “Then turn onBefore Sunriseand put those hands to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I rent the movie, walk over to the bathroom sink, and pick up the vanilla-scented cream she uses, the one that always drives me wild.

My heart pounds when I return and see her lying on her stomach, waiting for me. Her cheek is pressed to her palms, and she gives me a smile. The starlight from our panoramic windows dances across her beautiful body.

I’m so lucky. I take a deep breath, feeling the heat of anticipation course through my veins.

I approach her slowly, the scent of vanilla filling my senses as I squeeze the lotion into my hands and rub my palms together to warm it. The sound of the movie hums in the background. She tugs up her shirt, revealing her bare back. My fingers tremble as they make contact, the smoothness of her skin sending a jolt of electricity through me.

She lets out a soft sigh. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Relax and let me take care of you.”

A small spark ignites in my chest.

I begin at her shoulders, my hands firm yet gentle as they work the tension from her muscles. She melts under my touch, her body softening with every motion. My fingers trace the lines of her spine, moving with purpose and care, as if I’m doing my pregame ritual.

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