Chapter 48: Choke in Your Sleep

The hotel restaurant was loud, crowded, and packed with hungry hockey players by seven o’clock.

Long wooden tables had been pushed together down the center of the room to fit the entire Briar roster. The air smelled like seared steaks, garlic fries, and loud pre-game energy.

I ended up squeezed into a booth on the right side of the main table, sandwiched between Bear and Jake. Sitting directly across from me was Knox.

Bear was in full chaotic form. Before our drinks had even arrived, he had already stolen half of Jake’s fries and was happily dunking them into a massive bowl of ranch.

"Nora," Bear said, leaning over with his gap-toothed grin as he pointed a fry at me. "Do you have any of those visual flowchart things for human anatomy? Because I’m ninety percent sure I’m failing my muscle insertion quiz on Tuesday."

"Bear, she’s a business and macro tutor," Jake scoffed, shaking his head. "She doesn’t teach anatomy."

"Hey, a brain is a brain," Bear argued, completely unbothered. "Nora’s smart. She made Sheridan look like a corporate executive yesterday."

I let out a soft laugh. "I can take a look at your anatomy notes on the bus ride back on Sunday, Bear."

"Yes!" Bear pumped his fist. "You’re a lifesaver, Nora. Unlike Jake, who refused to let me copy his flashcards."

Directly across the table, Knox sat quietly.

He was wearing his black athletics pullover, his dark hair messy from his shower. He wasn’t talking much, but every time I looked up, his eyes were locked onto me.

He didn’t say a word as Bear rambled on. But when the waitress brought our drinks and placed a glass of iced water near the edge of the table, Knox reached across without a word and slid it right in front of my plate.

I paused, looking up at him. "Thanks."

Knox just gave a subtle, unreadable nod, taking a drink of his own black coffee.

Near the front entrance of the restaurant, a group of glamorous girls wearing sleek coats and high boots drifted over from the hotel bar. Two of them recognized the Briar varsity logos and strolled right up to the head of our table, trying to get the players’ attention.

One of them, a blonde girl in a tight white sweater, parked herself right near Knox’s shoulder.

"Are you guys the Briar team?" she asked, putting on a bright, flirtatious smile. "We’re in town for the weekend event."

Milo and Theo immediately perked up, flashing easy smiles. But Knox didn’t even turn his head. He kept his eyes squarely on his plate, cutting his steak with quiet, dismissive disinterest.

When the girl tried to lean down to catch his eye, Knox casually picked up his water glass, shifted slightly toward my side of the table, and asked me, "You done with those fries?"

I blinked, a subtle smirk touching my lips. "Go ahead."

The girl flushed red, realized she was being completely ignored, and strutted off toward the bar with her friend. Bear snorted into his napkin, muffling a laugh, while Knox calmly picked up a fry like nothing had happened.

—

By eight o’clock, the team piled into a second-floor conference room that had been converted into a film room.

The lights were dimmed, a large projector screen was pulled down at the front, and Coach Brennan was standing near the laptop.

I took a seat in the back row by the door, pulling my legs up onto the rungs of the chair to stay out of the way.

The second Coach Brennan hit play on the Western State game footage, Knox transformed.

The quiet, aloof guy from dinner vanished. Knox stood up from his front-row seat, stepped up to the white board beside the screen, and took over the breakdown with precision.

"Look at their defensive pairing on the left wing," Knox said in a lat, clear voice. He pointed a dry-erase marker at the screen. "They run a heavy trap when we enter the neutral zone. Bear, when I carry the puck across the blue line, you drop back to cover the gap. Jake, you cut high to draw their defenseman."

The entire room went dead silent.

Twenty loud, rowdy hockey players watched Knox with focus, nodding along to every instruction he gave.

It was a side of Knox Sheridan I had never seen before.

He wasn’t acting like the arrogant jock who got into bar fights or the playboy who ignored his tutors. In this room, surrounded by his team, he was a natural leader. He understood the game on a level that was almost terrifying... reading spatial movements, anticipating plays three steps ahead, and commanding respect without raising his voice once.

Bear leaned back toward my row, whispering out of the side of his mouth: "Once the game’s on, nothing else exists for him."

I didn’t answer.

I just kept my eyes on Knox as he capped his marker, his broad shoulders squared against the light of the projector screen.

For the first time all week, I felt something shift quietly in my chest... a sudden, unexpected warmth that I refused to name.

—

It was nearly ten-thirty by the time we made it back up to the fourth floor.

The carpeted hallway of the executive level was quiet. We walked side by side toward Room 402, the silence between us surprisingly comfortable for the first time since he had knocked on my apartment door on Wednesday.

Knox tapped his keycard against the lock, the green light beeped, and he pushed the heavy door open.

The moment we stepped inside the entryway, I grabbed the decorative throw blanket from the armchair in the sitting room and tossed my tote bag onto the cushions.

"I’m taking the couch," I announced flatly, unzipping my boots.

Knox stopped in the doorway leading to the main bedroom. He leaned his broad frame against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked out at me.

"Just sleep in the bed, Bennett," Knox said quietly. "We’re adults."

I looked up at him, hands resting on my hips. "I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you."

Knox raised an eyebrow, a lazy smirk touching the corner of his lips. "Why? You scared?"

"Of catching whatever’s living in that mattress? Yes," I shot back smoothly. "Besides, if you actually cared about me sleeping in a bed, you’d offer to take the couch yourself."

Knox scoffed. "Why would I deny myself beauty sleep?"

"Don’t I deserve beauty sleep too?" I countered, raising a brow.

"Well..." Knox gestured lazily toward his chest. "I have a major game tomorrow, Bennett. I actually need to sleep well."

I grabbed one of the throw pillows from the sofa and threw it straight at his head. "You’re a jerk and an asshole."

Knox caught the pillow effortlessly with one hand without even flinching. "I can hear you, Bennett."

"I wasn’t saying it in secret," I snapped.

Knox tossed the pillow back onto the armchair, turning around with a low, insufferable chuckle as he walked into the bedroom. "Goodnight, Bennett."

"Choke in your sleep," I grumbled.

I dropped onto the couch, pulling the thin throw blanket up around my shoulders as I pulled out my phone to text Priya.

Nora: Update: The hotel is fully booked, so Knox and I have to share a room. It only has one bed and His Majesty refused to take the couch because he needs his ’beauty sleep’.

Priya: Tell me you did not let that jock take the king bed while you sleep on a sofa!

Nora: I don’t have a choice. I’m currently sleeping on the sofa, and it feels like cardboard.

Priya: You should punch him in his sleep!

Nora: No need for that. I’ve slept in worse places.

Priya: Are you going to be fine?

Nora: Always. Goodnight, Pri.

Priya: Goodnight, babe.

I smiled softly, adjusting the thin blanket around my neck before locking my screen and staring up at the dark ceiling.

I thought sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa was going to be the hardest part of my night.

I was wrong.

By midnight, the suite’s central heating system made a loud, metallic clanking noise and died completely.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered into the dark room, pulling the blanket tighter around my chin.

At first, I tried to ignore it.

But by one in the morning, the temperature in the sitting room had dropped into a freezing chill. The cold air seeped right through the thin throw blanket, making my toes numb and my teeth chatter softly.

I lay there for twenty painful minutes, my stubborn pride refusing to let me give up.

Finally, my fingers were too cold to hold the blanket edge.

I sat up, shivering violently. I grabbed my pillow, wrapped the thin throw blanket around my shoulders like a cape, and crept quietly across the carpet toward the bedroom door.

Just as I reached out to grab the handle, the bedroom door suddenly swung inward from the inside.

I gasped, pulling back mid-step, but my momentum carried me forward and I collided straight into a wall of solid, bare chest.

Strong hands instantly clamped around my arms to steady me before I could fall.

I looked up in the dark, my heart hammering against my ribs. Standing in the doorway wearing nothing but dark sweatpants was Knox. In his hand, he was holding the extra heavy duvet from the closet.

He had been coming out to bring it to me.

Knox looked down at me shivering in front of him, his dark eyes wide in the shadows, his thumb brushing against the bare skin of my arm.

"Bennett," Knox’s low voice came out rough in the quiet hallway. "What are you doing?"