Chapter 151: Saved By Two Dozen Bagels

NORA’S POV

Knox’s dare hung in the warm morning air, impossible to ignore.

I looked right into his smoldering gray eyes, watching the cocky tilt of his smirk daring me to back down. My heart thumped against my ribs, but for the first time in my life, I had zero interest in playing it safe.

"Double-dog dare?" I whispered, tilting my chin up. "You really shouldn’t give an honors student a challenge she knows she can win, Sheridan."

Before Knox could reply, I shifted my weight, pressing my palms against his muscular shoulders and sliding one knee over his hips.

Knox let out a sharp, ragged breath as I settled right over his lap. His hands clamped onto my waist in an instant grip, his fingers digging into my skin as if he were trying to keep from losing his mind.

"Nora..." he groaned.

I leaned down and caught his lower lip between mine, kissing him with a slow, confident heat that silenced every word in his throat. Knox responded immediately, his tongue tangling with mine, one of his hands sliding up to tangle in my curls while his hips surged upward into mine.

The friction beneath the duvet flared hot and urgent. Knox reached out blindly with his free hand, his fingers grazing the handle of the nightstand drawer...

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A violent fist hammered against the solid oak of the bedroom door, rattling the frame and shaking the hinges.

"Yo, Cap!" Bear’s booming voice bellowed through the wood, loud enough to rattle the windowpanes. "Wake your lazy ass up! We got two dozen fresh bagels from Goldie’s and Jake bought the large box of hazelnut roast! If you don’t come down in five minutes, we’re eating the whole damn box!"

Knox froze instantly.

His eyes squeezed shut, a look of pure, murderous disbelief washing across his face. His jaw locked, and he dropped his forehead heavily into the crook of my neck, letting out a muffled, agonized groan that vibrated against my skin.

"I am going to murder him," Knox muttered into my collarbone. "I am literally going to take a hockey stick and beat him to death."

A breathless, helpless laugh bubbled up from my chest. I scrambled backward across the mattress, yanking the duvet all the way up to my chin.

Knox stayed face down against my shoulder for another five seconds, gathering every ounce of his willpower, before lifting his head.

"Ten minutes, Barrett!" Knox roared at the door in his deepest, most terrifying captain voice. "Touch my jalapeño cheddar bagel and you’re skating herbies until you puke on Thursday!"

Bear’s booming chuckle echoed from the hallway, followed by the heavy thud of his boots heading toward the stairs. "He’s alive! Hurry up, Romeo! Coffee’s getting cold!"

The hallway went quiet again.

Knox turned back to look at me, running a large hand down his face with a heavy sigh. His dark hair was sticking up in every direction, and the sheer frustration in his gray eyes was so endearing it made my heart squeeze.

"Saved by two dozen bagels," Knox muttered, leaning across the sheets to press a lingering, reluctant kiss to my parted lips. "This isn’t over, Bennett."

"Whatever you say, Captain," I teased, smiling against his mouth.

Knox rolled out of bed with an athletic grace that made it hard to look away.

He pulled a pair of dark gray sweatpants from the floor and stepped into them, then walked over to his dresser. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a massive, charcoal Briar Hockey hoodie with a bold white #19 stitched across the front, along with a pair of black cotton drawstring joggers.

Walking back to the edge of the bed, Knox tossed them both onto my lap.

"Put those on," he said softly, a tender warmth replacing the irritation in his eyes. "Floors are cold downstairs, and Bear’s eyesight is already too good."

I reached over the side of the mattress to snatch up my lace panties from last night, slipping them on under the duvet before pulling on the joggers.

They completely swallowed my waist. I had to roll the thick waistband three times and knot the drawstring tight so they wouldn’t slide right off my hips, the cuffs bunching up around my ankles.

Then I slipped the hoodie over my head.

The fabric was thick and soft, completely burying my frame. The sleeves hung well past my knuckles, and the hem fell over my hips. It smelled entirely like Knox—cedar, clean laundry, and warm skin. ℯ

Knox leaned against the dresser, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched me drown in his clothes. A slow, thoroughly pleased smirk spread across his lips. "Come on," he said, holding out a hand.

I took his calloused palm, letting him pull me up from the mattress. The moment my bare feet touched the hardwood, that delicious, tender ache pulsed deep between my thighs, making my steps slightly stiff.

Knox noticed the small hitch in my stride. He wrapped an arm around my waist, supporting half my weight without saying a word, and guided me into his bathroom.

We stood together in front of the wide double vanity. Knox pulled a fresh, unopened toothbrush from the cabinet under the sink and handed it to me with a tube of paste.

As we brushed our teeth side-by-side, our eyes met in the wide mirror.

A quiet, profound sense of peace settled into my chest. There were no cameras, no fake-dating rules, and no tactical plans to save his draft stock. It was just the two of us on a regular Tuesday morning, standing close enough for our shoulders to brush.

Knox rinsed his mouth, wiped his jaw with a hand towel, and turned to me. He tucked a loose curl behind my ear, his thumb brushing over my cheek.

"Ready to face the wolves?" he asked with a faint smirk.

"If they have fresh bagels, absolutely," I replied.

Knox smiled, interlaced our fingers, and led me out into the hall.