“Cancún? Beach Olympics?” The memories float to the forefront of my mind. Before I can bring them into sharper focus, he turns and drops the waistband of his running shorts. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”
My cheeks heat, but I can’tnotlook. He’s got the kind of glutes you could bounce a quarter off of, and—Holy. Forking. Shirt balls.
My fingers fly to the back of my neck. To the flock of sparrows tattooed just below my hairline. I had them inked in Cancún. The same night I threw caution to the wind and had a one-night stand with a stranger—and the best sex of my life.
My thighs clench at the memory, but it can’t be… “Flamingo Boy?”
He chuckles, the quiet rumble reverberating in his chest. “I prefer Knox these days.”
Knox. The name suits him, but I can’t think about that right now, because I’m freaking the fudge out. I had sex with this man. The really filthy, adventurous kind.
Only because you never expected to see him again.
Obviously. That doesn’t change the fact that I enjoyed it immensely.
Knox leans against the railing, crossing his long legs at the ankles. “And you are?”
Completely out of my depth, because what are the odds my one-night stand would be my new neighbor? It’s inconceivable. Heck, it would be laughable if it weren’t so mortifying. But I can’t say that, so I force myself to meet his eyes and pretend I’m not a hair’s breadth from a full-blown menty B.
“I’m Ava.” I clasp my hands together and regret it instantly. My palm throbs from the splinter, and the added pressure isn’t helping. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you. From before.”
“To be fair, that’s probably because I spent most of the night behind you.” He smirks, and my entire body goes up in flames. Whether it’s embarrassment or memories of our scorching hot night together is anyone’s guess. Thankfully, he takes pity on me and changes tack. “Do you have any idea how much shit I’ve taken for this tattoo?”
“No, but I’ve got a pretty good imagination.” After all, the man has a pink flamingo inked on his butt, the result of losing a bet to yours truly.
His smirk stretches into a full-on smile, and I catch a glimpse of the perfectly matched dimples that drew me to him when we first met. “Whatever you’re imagining, triple it.”
“That bad, huh?” Laughter bubbles up from the pit of my stomach. After the stress of the move, meeting my father for the first time, and starting a new job, it feels good. I give Knox a slow once-over, drinking in every inch of his rock-hard body. “I don’t see any fresh ink, so I guess it’s safe to say you learned your lesson.”
He huffs a laugh. “That’s one way of looking at it.”
“It could have been worse.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “It could’ve been a kitten. With a pink bow.”
If only I’d thought of it sooner.
“You’re an evil genius,” he says, shaking his head.
“I prefer the term devious mastermind.” I grin and hook a thumb toward the back door. “Can I get you a bottle of water? I’d offer you coffee, but I haven’t had a chance to go shopping yet.”
“That would be great, if it’s not too much trouble.”
When was the last time a man—or anyone for that matter—worried about inconveniencing me?
That would be never.
“It’s the least I can do.” I open the back door and gesture for him to follow. “After all, you saved me from calling a locksmith.”
Or worse, my father. He would have dropped everything and raced over here to save the day. Which sounds great in theory, except for the fact that he already sees me as a child and not as an independent, capable woman.
The temperature drops fifteen degrees when I step inside, and I sigh with relief as cool air caresses my skin. I should be used to the oppressive Georgia heat—I grew up in Texas, after all—but after living up north for the last few years, readjusting to the climate has been brutal.
I grab two bottles of water from the fridge and hand one to Knox. He twists the top off and immediately takes a drink, eyes closed and head tipped back. I study him over the top of my bottle as I sip. His throat bobs like a model in a Gatoradecommercial, which, combined with his golden skin and rock-hard biceps, does unholy things to my ovaries.
You’re staring. Quit being a thirsty bitch and make your move.
I choke, water spraying from my mouth as my best friend’s advice echoes in my head.
Knox’s gaze snaps to mine, and his eyes search my face. “Are you okay?”