Chapter 112: Fourteen Missed Calls

NORA’S POV

Ten minutes after Bear and Jake left the room, three soft taps sounded against the bedroom door.

I walked over and pulled it open.

Bear was standing there balancing a large plastic tray on one forearm. He had loaded it with two huge plates of fluffy pancakes, a mountain of crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, a pitcher of maple syrup, and two tall glasses of orange juice.

"Delivery for the captain and his girl," Bear said with a wide grin.

"Bear, this looks amazing," I said, taking the loaded tray from his hands.

"Don’t let him complain," Bear told me, pointing a thick finger toward the bed. "I cooked the bacon extra crispy just like he likes it. Shout if you need anything else."

"Thanks, Bear."

I carried the tray over to the low coffee table and set it down.

Knox carefully swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, mindful of his bruised shoulder, and settled onto the floor cushion across from me; his dark hair was still a tangled mess.

He picked up a strip of bacon with his good right hand and took a bite, letting out a satisfied groan. "Kowalski actually didn’t burn it," he murmured. "Miracles happen."

"Stop complaining and eat," I said, pouring syrup over my pancakes.

"I thought you weren’t hungry, Bennett."

"I lied," I replied, cutting off a piece of pancake and popping it into my mouth. "Nursing a grumpy hockey player burns a lot of calories."

Knox chuckled, a quiet, warm sound that made the room feel cozy and safe.

We ate in easy, comfortable silence for the next fifteen minutes. Knox ate half his plate, while I stole two of his bacon strips when he wasn’t looking.

Before sitting down to eat, I had grabbed my phone from my winter coat hanging across the room, plugged it into Knox’s nightstand charger, and flicked the silent switch off.

I hadn’t even checked the lock screen yet.

Right as I took my last sip of orange juice, the phone suddenly vibrated violently against the wood, lighting up with fourteen missed calls, twenty-six unread texts, and an incoming call from Priya.

"Uh oh," I muttered, wincing as the wall of notifications flooded in.

"What is it?" Knox asked, swallowing a mouthful of eggs.

"My phone was buried on silent in my coat pocket all night," I confessed, showing him the screen. "Priya has been calling me nonstop since ten-thirty yesterday."

Knox gave a low groan, leaning his head back against the edge of the bed frame. "Put it on speaker. Let’s get the execution over with."

I swiped the green button and tapped the speaker icon.

"Nora Bennett!" Priya’s voice shrieked through the tiny speaker so loud it made both of us flinch. "I have called you fourteen times! Fourteen! I was ten seconds away from marching to campus security to report a missing person! You dropped your sign, vanished down the tunnel stairs, and completely ghosted me all night!"

"Priya, I’m so sorry," I said, holding back a laugh. "My phone was buried in my coat on silent while the doctors were examining Knox..."

"I don’t care about your coat!" Priya yelled back. "Someone in our dorm group chat said they saw a girl driving Knox’s giant black truck out of the arena alley at midnight! Did Knox survive?! Is his head attached?! Are you at the hospital?!"

"I’m at the SinBin," I said calmly. "In Knox’s bedroom."

A moment of dead, stunned silence hung over the line.

Then Priya made a sound that was half-gasp, half-scream.

"You spent the night at the SinBin?!" she demanded. "Did you guys... are you his nurse? What is going on?!"

I looked up at Knox. He was watching me with an amused, crooked smirk on his face.

"He has a mild concussion and a bad shoulder bruise, but he’s fine," I told her, feeling a warm flush spread across my cheeks. "And... we’re official, Priya. He asked me to be his girlfriend last night."

An ear-piercing scream blasted through the phone speaker.

"I KNEW IT!" Priya roared, her voice vibrating with pure victory. "I knew that fake dating contract was dead! I knew it the second you wore his hoodie! Oh my god, my best friend is officially dating Knox Sheridan!"

Knox winced, pressing the heel of his good hand to his temple.

"Tell your roommate to lower her voice, Bennett," Knox grunted. "My brain is rattling."

Priya gasped over the line. "Is that him?! Tell your concussed captain boyfriend he owes me breakfast for holding your cardboard sign all night! And you better get back here soon for a full debrief!"

"I’ll see you later, Priya," I laughed and hung up before she could start screaming again.

I set my phone down, smiling at Knox. "She’s very excited."

"She’s loud," Knox corrected with a smirk. "Remind me to buy her earplugs."

Before I could answer, Knox’s phone on the nightstand vibrated with a sharp double buzz.

BZZZ. BZZZ.

As his designated concussion gatekeeper, I picked it up to check the preview.

The name on the screen made my smile instantly freeze: Garrison Sheridan.

My stomach dropped into a cold knot.

"Who is it?" Knox asked, his sharp eyes catching the sudden change in my face.

"Your dad," I said quietly.

Knox’s jaw tightened. The easy, playful mood in the room vanished in a fraction of a second. "Read it," he said flatly.

I tapped the screen and read the text out loud:

"Saw the game tape. Getting blindsided and knocked unconscious in a November conference game is careless. Chicago and Montreal scouts were in the building. Concussion flags tank first-round draft value. Call my office by noon."

Anger flared hot in my chest.

Not a single word asking if Knox was in pain. Not a word asking if his neck was okay, or how his concussion was, or congratulating him on the 3–2 win over Boston.

Just business.

"He’s awful, Knox," I whispered, holding the phone tightly in my hands. "You took that hit to win the game. Brennan said the scouts loved your play."

Knox stared at the wooden floorboards for a long, quiet moment. When he looked up, his expression was completely carved from stone, but his eyes were steady.

"Delete it," Knox said quietly.

"Are you sure? He said to call by noon..."

"I don’t care," Knox interrupted. "He doesn’t care if I’m breathing, Nora. He only cares about his agency’s cut of my rookie contract. I’m not calling him."

I reached across the space between us and slipped my fingers into his good right hand, squeezing gently. "You don’t owe him a damn thing," I told him softly.

Knox looked down at our laced fingers. A tiny, faint breath left his chest, and the harsh lines around his jaw softened just a little.

"I know," he murmured, his thumb stroking the back of my knuckles. "And with you here... none of his bullshit gets inside my head anymore."

My heart swelled with a quiet, fierce warmth.

Then my eyes caught the digital clock glowing on his bedside table: 11:55 AM.

I froze, all the air rushing out of my lungs.

"Oh no," I gasped, dropping Knox’s hand and scrambling to my feet.

Knox frowned, startled. "What? What happened?"

"I have a shift at Rusty’s Diner at one o’clock!" I said in a panic, grabbing my coat from the desk chair. "Denise covered my shift on Tuesday, which means if I call out today, Rusty is going to fire me on the spot!"

Knox let out a loud groan, reaching out with his good arm to grab the hem of my sweater, trying to pull me back down.

"Stay here," Knox grunted, his eyes narrowing at me. "Call in sick. Tell them your boyfriend has a concussion and needs private nursing."

I laughed, swatting his hand away as I slipped into my winter coat.

"Unlike you, Sheridan, I don’t have a future million-dollar NHL signing bonus waiting for me. I need my tips to pay my share of rent and send money home to my mom’s bakery."

Knox sighed, knowing I was right, but he still looked grumpy about it. "How are you getting there?" he asked.

"I’ll walk to the dorm, take a fast shower, change into my diner uniform, and take the campus shuttle straight to Rusty’s."

"No way in hell are you walking across campus in the cold," Knox said firmly. He raised his voice, calling toward the door: "Bear! Kowalski!"

A heavy stomp echoed in the hallway, and Bear’s face poked into the doorway a second later. "Yeah, Cap?"

"Drive Nora back to her dorm," Knox ordered. "Right now."

"On it," Bear said, jingling his truck keys from his pocket. "Meet you downstairs in two minutes, Nora."

Bear vanished down the stairs.

I turned back to Knox, shaking my head with an affectionate smile. "You are completely ridiculous, you know that?"

"I take care of what’s mine, Bennett," Knox said simply, holding my gaze with that calm, possessive authority that always made my stomach do flips.

He lifted his chin, tapping his lips. "Come here and give me my medicine before you go."

I walked over to the bed, bent down, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. He reached up with his good hand, his fingers tangling gently in my hair to hold me there for an extra second.

When he finally let me go, I smoothed down his rumpled curls.

"Take your ibuprofen, drink your water, and keep that ice on your shoulder," I ordered softly. "And do not look at your phone."

"Yes, ma’am," Knox murmured, his eyes full of warm, quiet amusement. "What time do you get off?"

"Six o’clock."

"Bear will pick you up at the diner at six," Knox said. "You’re coming back here for dinner."

I smiled, feeling lighter and happier than I had all semester.

"Deal, Captain. See you tonight."