AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I close my eyes and drop my arm to my side. He probably thinks I’m the biggest dummy that’s ever walked the earth. This is why I don’t talk to boys–especially hot ones. I don’t know what to say or do. And why I’ve never been properly kissed.
The door swooshes open, and he holds his arm out to block the sensor, motioning for me to go in first. “After you.”
His chest stretches the fabric of his light-colored t-shirt, and my brain melts into a puddle. There’s nothing boyish about Knox. He’s every bit a man.
The door shuts, and I’m alone with him in the enclosed elevator car. I’m alone with Knox Tillman. Shit. Don’t say shit. Shit. My hands are sweaty. I stare blindly at the elevator panel. He’s the epitome of every romance hero I’ve ever swooned over. Tall. Dark. Handsome. Helpful.
What would it be like to kiss him?
Why would you even think that? Don’t be pathetic. He’s dating a model who walks the runway in New York. You’ll never find out what it’s like to kiss him.
I straighten my shoulders. “I appreciate your help. I should have taken more than one trip.”
He chuckles, and a shiver runs up my spine. “Or you could have asked any one of us guys to help.”
His dimples are popping. Lord, he’s good-looking. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t stolen more looks than I can count watching him over the last few months.
“It’s a building full of football players who enjoy showing off for the ladies.”
“Everyone’s busy.” As the elevator creeps higher, my eyes narrow. It’s 1:05 p.m.Why is he not in the weight room? He’s in the gym from 11:00 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. On Tuesday and Thursday, he’s on the field practicing with the defense.
I glance up, and his eyes meet mine. They’re…. Intense. That’s the only word that comes to mind. My nipples tent against my bra. What am I doing?
“Next time you need help, come find me.” All the air in the space disintegrates, and seconds pass in which I forget to breathe. Is he serious? He can’t be. Not like that anyway.
I’m Saylor Brennon. The girl whose parents died when I was twelve and spent the last ten years studying to make them proud while reading smutty romance novels that will never come true. I’m not the girl guys find attractive.
As a matter of fact, the ones in my school made it clear I was the opposite of girlfriend material. They teased me. Pulled my hair. Knocked my food tray on the floor of the lunchroom. And then made up limericks about my bright red face.
The door slides open, and he bites his bottom lip while raising his eyebrows. “We’re here.”
Holy cow. This is not real. Someone knocked me on the head in the parking lot when I grabbed the box out of my trunk. That’s the only explanation. I’m passed out on the pavement, no one is looking for me, and a vulture is swirling above my head.
