Page 66 of Crew
“I picked two beds,” I stated.
“I know.”
“Not because I wanted space.”
He looked over. “You don’t want to give them a reason to talk and get back to your parents before you talk to them.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“I understand.”
Once we got upstairs, I unlocked the door and pushed it open. Itwas the opposite of what we were used to when traveling. The team usually put us up in nice digs, but this little motel had worn and outdated carpet, and the TV was bolted to the dresser.
“I’m going to take a quick shower.” I set my bag on the bed closest to the door.
“Need a hand with that?” Knox asked with a smirk.
“Yeah, actually. I could use the release,” I deadpanned.
“Well damn. If you’re gonna make it that easy.”
We headed toward the bathroom. The alcove barely fit the two of us shoulder to shoulder, and when I opened the door, we both paused.
The tub was narrow, the curtain half off the rod, the tile cracked along the back, and the faucet was already dripping.
He leaned in, chin nearly brushing my shoulder. “You sure we’re both fitting in there?”
“Guess we’re about to find out.”
Instead of answering, he reached for the hem of his shirt and peeled it off.
I followed, pulling my own over my head, then stepped out of my shoes. We didn’t talk as the rest came off. We stepped under the water, elbows knocking, knees brushing.
“You’re huge,” I muttered as he turned sideways to let me under the spray.
Knox smirked and reached for my hardening dick. “You say that like it’s a problem.”
Once we gotout of the shower, I went to my bag, unzipping it and rummaging through the smaller pocket. “Shit.”
Knox looked over, towel still around his waist. “What?”
“I forgot my toothbrush.”
He grabbed his shirt off the bed, shaking it out. “There a store nearby?”
“Yeah. Dixie Mart. Just down theroad.”
“I’ll go with you.” We got dressed and headed back out into the Tennessee heat.
The Dixie Mart looked exactly like I remembered with white siding and a cart return that had been bent sideways since high school. Inside, it was cool and smelled like fried chicken and lemon cleaner. I grabbed a cheap toothbrush, a few bottles of water, and we each got sandwiches and chips from the deli.
And that’s when I saw her.
Mallory Wade.
She was coming around the end of the last aisle, maybe ten feet away, pushing a cart with one hand. A little boy sat in the front with light brown hair that curled slightly at the ends, cheeks flushed pink from the heat, and a box of animal crackers clutched in both hands.
Our eyes locked.
