Page 25 of Knight
He opened the gate to the yard and gestured me through. While a lot of the yards in the park appeared to be overgrown, Knight’s was neatly mowed and trimmed. That was a good sign.
He led the way up the wooden steps to a small deck that included a grill and two lawn chairs. He opened the screen door and waved me inside.
“It won’t make the cut atHomes & Gardenmagazine,” he said. “But I try not to be a slob.”
I glanced around the living room. There was a small gray sofa—really more of a loveseat—a cozy-looking leather recliner, and a flat-screen TV on the wall. There wasn’t a lot of personal decor, but it was clean. The kitchen was to the left, a Formica bar separating the rooms. I walked past it to see a small card table with folding chairs set up.
“Uh, yeah, my budget for furniture wasn’t great,” he said. “If you have nicer things, you’re welcome to bring them. I’m not attached to anything but my recliner.”
“Unfortunately, I came from student housing. I don’t own any furniture.”
“Ah, well, this is what you get, then.” He chuckled. “Although, once you’re working, I imagine you’ll make a lot more than me. Not that it obligates you to buy anything. Just, if you want…” He trailed off and rubbed a hand over the scruff on his jaw.
He seemed nervous, and that put me more at ease. Knight was an intimidating man at first glance. He was tall, broad, and while he wasn’t bulky, he looked strong. He’d picked me up easily at the club, holding me on his shoulders while he?—
Abort! Abort! No sexy thoughts allowed.
I turned quickly, scanning the room for a distraction.
An avocado-colored refrigerator that had to be about fifty years old whirred nearby, and a cream-colored dishwasher was next to the sink, the gas stove on its other side.
“Everything works?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Knight knocked on the side of the fridge. “They don’t make them like this anymore. These suckers last forever.”
I nodded. “Can I see the bedroom and bathroom?”
“Sure.” He stepped into the hall just beyond the refrigerator. “Laundry and bathroom are down here.”
He pointed out a small room with a washer and dryer. Clothes were folded in stacks on top of the dryer.
“If you move in, I won’t do that.” He stepped forward and picked up the laundry. “Sorry.”
“I’m not a neat freak,” I said. “I appreciate that the place is pretty tidy, though. You’re already way better than my undergrad roommate. Kris was a huge slob. Drove me batty.”
“Yeah?” He chuckled. “Glad I can compete.”
He stepped back into the hallway, brushing against me, and I tried to ignore the tingles that rushed over my arm at the contact.
“Sorry, tight quarters,” he murmured, eyes meeting mine briefly.
My breath caught in my throat. I made an inarticulate sound of agreement.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice my reaction.
He turned away and started down the hall. “Your bathroom is over here. It’s small. I’d be willing to give you the larger one, though.”
I leaned through the doorway to give it a peek. There was a bathtub/shower combo, a toilet, and a small vanity—all the same shade of off-white. It was smaller than Flynn’s bathroom, certainly, but if I got it all to myself, it would be fine.
“This seems okay,” I said.
“You’re easier than I expected.”
I turned, raising an eyebrow at him.
He grinned unabashedly. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded, but it was kind of true the night we met too, wasn’t it?” He waggled his eyebrows. “You were?—”
“Anonymous,” I cut in. “I was a stranger you hooked up with. Not Aiden Donovan.”
