Chapter 16- Naked

Paige’s POV

The towel hit the floor.

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I just stood there, completely and utterly betraying every rational thought I’d ever had, staring.

I should’ve looked away. Any reasonable person would’ve looked away.

Water still clung to his skin in places, catching the fluorescent light. My eyes moved without my permission—over the hard lines of his stomach, downward, and I felt my face catch fire before I even fully registered what I was looking at.

I’d never seen a naked man before.

My eyes widened.

How was that even…

Was it supposed to be that big?

“Eyes up here, midget.”

My gaze shot upward so fast my neck almost cracked. Knox was watching me, one eyebrow arched, that infuriating smirk already spreading across his face like he’d been waiting for exactly this reaction.

Heat exploded across my face.

“Oh my God!” My hands flew over my eyes. “I am so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

I spun around so quickly I nearly tripped over my own feet.

“Wasn’t what?” He chuckled, the sound low and throaty. “Staring?”

I cleared my throat, my face flushed. “I was not staring.”

“Sure, if that’s what you say.” I didn’t have to look to know he was smirking.

“Knox.” My hands were still pressed over my face. “Please put something on.”

There was a pause, then the sound of him grabbing the towel again.

“You can look now,” he said, laughter still threaded through his voice. “Unless you’d rather keep them there.”

“I hate you,” I said, turning back.

“No you don’t.”

I dropped my hands just enough to glare at him over my fingertips. He’d wrapped the towel back around his waist, arms crossed, watching me like I was the best thing that had happened to him all week.

“You’re still red,” he said.

“I’m not.”

“You are. All the way down your neck.” He stood there, his gaze trailing slowly from head to toe. “Kind of impressive, actually.” That infuriating smirk was still plastered across his face.

“I hate you,” I said again, with slightly less conviction than the first time.

“So you’ve said.” He strode toward me, unhurried, and I hated how my pulse picked up at the movement. “Didn’t peg you as the type to stare, midget.”

“I wasn’t staring.” Instinctively I took a step back. Then another, until the cold tiled wall pressed against my spine.

He stopped mere inches away, his breath warm against my skin. “You were staring so hard I thought you forgot how words work.”

“I was in shock.”

“Sure.” His voice dropped, low enough that it did something unfair to my stomach. “That’s what we’re calling it.”

A whimper escaped my lips. “Knox…”

He tilted his head. “Admit it.” The grin widened. “You were impressed with what you saw.”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t see anythi—” But the words wouldn’t come out convincingly.

“Tongue-tied?” One brow arched. “That’s new. You always mouth off. Every argument, every time I open my mouth, you’ve got something to fire back.” His head dipped slightly, closer. “And now you’ve got nothing to say.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to prove him wrong out of pure spite if nothing else, and nothing came out. Not one word.

“Nothing,” he said, his fingers at the side of my neck, trailing feather-light strokes that sent a jolt of electricity through me. He pressed me against the wall, his body a solid, unyielding force.

“Knox—” His name came out closer to a plea than I meant it to.

“Yeah?” He grinned, slow and knowing, like he could hear exactly what I wasn’t saying.

Something about that grin lit a fire I’d been trying to ignore for days. The danger of it, the wrongness of it—I wanted it anyway.

I didn’t have an answer. I wasn’t sure I wanted one.

His head dipped, just slightly, until his mouth hovered a breath from mine. My whole body went still, waiting, some traitorous part of me leaning in before my brain could stop it.

The door swung open.

“Yo, Knox, have you seen my wa—” Enzo’s voice cut off entirely.

I jumped back so fast I nearly took out a locker, putting the length of the room between us in about half a second, heart hammering somewhere near my throat.

Knox, unbothered, straightened at his own pace, glancing toward the door like he hadn’t just had me pinned to a wall.

Enzo looked between the two of us, water bottle forgotten in his hand, eyebrows somewhere near his hairline.

“…I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

“See what,” Knox said, deadpan, already reaching for a shirt off the bench like nothing had happened.

“Whatever this was.” Enzo gestured vaguely between us, still grinning. “You two good?”

“We’re fine,” I said, far too quickly, already smoothing down my jacket, my face still burning. “I was just leaving.”

“Were you,” Knox said, not even trying to hide his amusement.

“Yes.” I grabbed my bag off the bench, refusing to look at him, refusing to acknowledge whatever had almost just happened. “I have class.”

“Sure you do.”

I was already moving toward the door, past Enzo, who was watching the whole thing with the barely contained delight of someone who was absolutely going to bring this up later.

“Paige,” Knox called after me.

I stopped, hand on the door, and made the mistake of glancing back.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, amusement gleaming in his eyes. Enzo, still very much in the room, looked between the two of us with the expression of someone watching the best show he’d seen all week.

Right.

The money. That was the entire reason I’d walked into this disaster in the first place, and somewhere between the towel and the wall and his hand on my neck, I’d managed to forget every word of the speech I’d rehearsed on the walk over.

“I—” I opened my mouth, and nothing useful came out. Again.

Knox waited, clearly enjoying this far too much, one eyebrow raised like he had all the time in the world. Beside him, Enzo was very obviously biting back a grin.

“I don’t—” My face was still on fire. My brain had apparently not returned from wherever it had gone. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Knox repeated, like he didn’t believe that for a second.

“I have class,” I said, which wasn’t even remotely an answer, and pushed through the door before either of them could say another word.