Page 72 of Find Me

“Can we talk?” he asked.

I smacked my forehead with my palm. “I forgot to look through the peephole. Logan’s gonna to be so, so mad at me. Lemme do this again,” I said, slurring a little, and slammed the door closed. I struggled to get my eye to line up with the peephole. “It’s still Knox,” I mumbled to myself and snorted. “I don’t wanna talk to you. I’m not home,” I yelled through the door before pushing off of it and heading toward the kitchen. I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten today, and I was pretty sure I had leftover pasta salad in the fridge. Carbs sounded amazing right now.

I heard the front door open and close behind me. I spun around, stumbled, and had to catch myself on a piece of furniture again. This time it was my yellow armchair.

Knox was inside. He looked from me to the coffee table, eyeing the half-empty bottle of Jack. “You’re drunk.”

“Nope. I’m numb,” I corrected and scooped the bottle off the coffee table. I zigged and zagged as I traveled to the kitchen. I opened my fridge. The cold air hitting my skin felt amazing. As I scanned the shelves, I took a big gulp from the bottle. The burning had long since passed and I couldn’t taste it anymore. When I found the pasta salad, I sighed. “I want French fries and chicken nuggets.”

“You don’t like fast food. It’s too fatty and greasy for you,” Knox said from behind me.

“I don’t care,” I snapped. “I don’t care about anything.” I was starting to feel sad again. So I took another gulp, then another to make sure that feeling got washed away.

“I’ll go get you all the chicken nuggets and French fries you want if you give me the bottle.”

I turned to glare at him. He was watching me from the other side of the kitchen island. My gaze dropped to his tight white T-shirt that hugged all of his big muscles. Why did he have to be hot? “I’m mad at you.”

“I know.”

Really?Glad to know that he didn’t care. “You’re an asshole and your sexy muscles can go to hell.” I turned back toward the fridge and pulled out the pasta salad. I slammed the door with my hip and dropped the container of pasta and bottle of Jack angrily on the counter.

“Shiloh.”

I ignored him by pulling a plate from the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer. I slammed both the door and drawer shut because my anger needed an outlet.

“You think I’m sexy?” he asked.

I scoffed as I scooped some pasta onto my plate.Someone is full of themselves.

“You just said I was sexy.”

“No, I didn’t,” I said and accidentally dropped a scoop of pasta on the counter. “Gah!” I threw the spoon down and ran my hands through my hair. Why couldn’t anything go right today? Feeling sad again, I reached for the Jack.

My wrist was grabbed before I could touch the bottle and I was spun around. Knox stared down at me with that intense look he had down pat. It was a mixture of determined and searching, like he wouldn’t give up until he was done seeing every inch of my soul. “Why are you here?” I asked.

He let go of my wrist to put his hand behind my neck. His fingers kneaded the base of my skull. “To apologize.”

“I don’t think you know how to apologize.” What he was doing felt so good, I had to fight to keep my eyes from rolling back into my head. I bit my lip to stop from groaning. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

His eyes dropped to my mouth and he leaned closer until his mouth was almost touching mine. “I only apologize to people I care about.” He was so close, I felt his words on my lips. It made my toes curl.

I wanted him to close the breadth of distance between us.

What did I have to lose?

Nothing.

All I did was lose and lose.

Right now, I wanted to take.

My hands went to his hips and I leaned forward. He pulled back a little, slightly stunned.

I pushed up onto my tiptoes. “Kiss me, Knox,” I whispered against his lips.

I was pretty sure he stopped breathing. I thought I heard something clank behind me and I went to look. Knox’s mouth captured mine before I could see. His hand at my neck pulled me even closer and he kissed the crap out of me. His lips were dominant and his tongue was controlling. Everything about the way he kissed represented him perfectly and because of that, I wanted to rebel. I enjoyed giving as good as I got with him way too much. I fisted the front of his shirt in my hands and kissed him back. My tongue caressed and danced with his in a passionate battle I knew he was enjoying just as much as I was.

He broke our kiss with a frustrated noise and pressed his forehead to mine. We both were breathing heavily. His hand at my neck squeezed a little as he stared down at me with a pained expression. His mouth moved back to mine and then pulled away.