Chapter 103: Did You Guys Boink?

NORA’S POV

My feet barely touched the pavement as I walked up the concrete steps.

The automatic glass doors slid shut behind me with a gentle hiss, cutting off the morning air, but nothing could cool the warmth radiating through every inch of my body.

I stepped into the elevator, clutching the straps of my tote bag to my chest like a shield.

Inside the bag was the small, velvet-lined box containing The Rose Deluxe and the memory of Knox Sheridan’s fingers driving me straight over the edge of sanity.

When the elevator chimed on the third floor, I practically floated down the carpeted hallway toward Room 304.

I unlocked the door, slipped inside, and turned the deadbolt until it snapped securely into place.

The dorm was quiet and empty, bathed in pale morning light filtering through the sheer curtains. Priya’s side of the room was tidy, her desk cleared for the morning classes she had already finished.

I leaned back against the solid wood of the door, letting out a long, shuddering breath.

A goofy, uncontrollable smile spread across my face.

"Get a grip, Bennett," I whispered out loud to the empty room, pressing both hands against my flushed cheeks.

They were burning hot.

I walked over to my wardrobe, unzipped the tote bag, and carefully pulled out the sleek little box.

My fingers brushed against the cool blush-pink silicone nestled inside. Just looking at the soft petals sent a sharp, electric jolt straight between my thighs, reminding me of the wicked suction, the breathless gasps, and Knox’s low voice urging me to let go against his chest.

I swallowed hard, tucked the box beneath a stack of thick wool winter scarves on the top shelf, and closed the wardrobe door.

Nobody would ever find it there.

It was twenty past eleven. I had just enough time before meeting Priya at the campus dining bistro downstairs.

I headed straight into the bathroom, twisted the brass knob of the tub, and let steaming hot water rush into the porcelain basin.

I stripped off Knox’s oversized grey hoodie, folding it carefully and setting it on the dry vanity counter.

Looking into the mirror, I paused.

My lips were visibly swollen and red from Knox’s relentless kisses. My neck and collarbones were mottled with faint pink marks where his stubble had scraped against my skin, and my eyes held a dreamy, dazed brightness that was impossible to mistake.

I turned away before I could embarrass myself further and stepped into the tub, sinking down into the hot water with a soft, helpless whimper.

The heat enveloped me instantly, soaking into the delicious, dull ache deep in my muscles.

Every tiny nerve ending felt hypersensitive. The warm water lapped gently against my stomach and thighs, soothing the tender soreness left behind by Knox’s fingers.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back against the edge of the tub, letting the steam rise around my face.

My mind instantly replayed every second of the morning.

Knox kneeling between my trembling legs. His knuckles skimming up my inner thighs. The sharp, breathtaking contrast between my own hesitant touch and his large, calloused hands guiding me into oblivion.

And that possessive, heated whisper against my mouth: Friday after the Boston game... we finish what we started.

A shiver rippled across my skin despite the scalding water.

I scrubbed myself clean with gentle lavender soap, washing away the sweat while desperately clinging to the emotional aftermath.

By the time the water began to cool, it was twenty-five past eleven.

I stepped out onto the fluffy bath mat, towel-dried my skin, and quickly pulled on a pair of clean dark jeans and a fresh white camisole.

I reached for my own knit cardigan hanging on the bathroom hook... and stopped.

My eyes drifted to Knox’s #19 hoodie resting on the vanity.

It was ridiculous. I was a grown woman, a university junior with a four-point-zero GPA, perfectly capable of wearing my own clothes.

Yet before the thought fully formed, I picked up his hoodie, buried my face in the soft fleece collar to inhale his faint scent of cedar and sandalwood, and pulled it over my head.

The fabric swallowed me completely, falling past my hips, wrapping me in an invisible cocoon of Knox.

I quickly brushed my damp hair, swiped a layer of clear gloss over my tingling lips, grabbed my phone and student ID, and hurried out the door.

—

Priya was already seated at a wooden corner booth in the Maple Commons bistro when I walked in. She had two iced lattes and a plate of warm paninis on the table, scrolling through her phone.

"Hey," I said, sliding into the bench across from her.

Priya looked up from her screen, opening her mouth to speak and instantly froze.

Her eyes narrowed, and her fork paused mid-air.

She slowly lowered her phone to the table, leaning forward across the polished wood, scrutinizing every millimeter of my face like a forensic investigator examining a crime scene.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Is there soap on my forehead?"

"Nora Bennett," Priya whispered sharply.

"Yes?"

"You’re wearing his number nineteen hoodie again."

"It’s comfortable," I answered smoothly, taking a sip of my iced latte to avoid her gaze. "And it was chilly this morning."

"Your hair is still damp from a shower," Priya continued, pointing an accusatory finger at me. "Your cheeks look like two ripe strawberries. And your lips look like they’ve been run over by an aggressively sexy lawnmower."

I choked on my coffee, coughing into a paper napkin. "Priya!"

"Don’t ’Priya’ me!" She slapped both hands flat on the table, her eyes widening with manic delight. "You’re glowing. You literally have a neon sign floating over your head that says ’I just had my world rocked.’ Spill it! Did Knox Sheridan finally take you to heaven?"

A knot of heat flared low in my stomach.

I glanced around the bistro. A few students were studying near the windows, and the barista was steaming milk at the counter, but nobody was paying attention to us.

Even so, I leaned across the table and lowered my voice to a whisper.

"Keep your voice down," I hissed.

"I will not keep my voice down until I hear details!" Priya beamed, bouncing slightly on the cushioned bench. "Did you guys... you know? Boink?"