Page 38 of Playing Hard to Get

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“She only wants a first paragraph, like with the thesis question. She said we can figure that out without reading the entire book yet.”

“Okay. Maybe we should discuss some of the themes the novel explores.”

We do exactly that and I’m quietly impressed with Knox’s assessment of the book. For someone who claims he’s terrible at English and doesn’t comprehend much, he’s doing a terrific job talking about the book and debating the subject matter.

He keeps distracting me though. He’ll stretch his leg out, his foot nudging against mine almost on purpose. I pull away every time it happens, outwardly not reacting, but eventually, I give in. I keep my leg in place, his foot gently hitting mine before resting next to it. I’m wearing a dress—fine, I wore something nicer than usual for my meeting with Knox—and at one point, I feel his bare leg brush against mine, the curling hairs tickling my skin.

I still don’t move, but I do go quiet, glancing down at my iPad and making a few notes that make no sense before I lift my gaze to Knox.

To find him already watching me, his body completely still, his warm leg practically wrapped around mine.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, not moving. Not sounding even one bit sorry.

I very carefully, very purposely, place my shoe on top of his and press down. “You’re invading my space.”

“I tend to do that sometimes.” He shrugs. “I don’t mean to, but I kind of spread out without knowing I’m doing it.”

“You are tall.” I say this like it’s an excuse, and his eyes warm. “And…long.”

“Long, huh?” He slips his foot out from underneath mine, then hooks his calf around my leg. We’re suddenly playing a slightly aggressive game of footsie and I’m seriously confused right now.

“Long legs,” I correct, untangling my leg from his. “And we need to finish our discussion.”

He glances at the clock on the wall behind my head. “We still have thirty-five minutes to go.”

“Then let’s wrap it up and start working on writing your first paragraph,” I suggest, my voice weak.

“Yeah, you’re right. We should definitely work on the paragraph.” He sits up straighter, reaching out to tap his index finger on top of my hand. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?” I’m weak over him barely touching my hand. I’ve got serious problems when it comes to this man.

“You know. And it’s been a while since I’ve…flirted with a woman,” he explains.

“Oh, is that what you were doing? Flirting with me with the leg thing?” I blink at him, trying to keep my expression serious. “I couldn’t tell.”

Knox leans back in his chair with a groan, scrubbing his hand along his jaw. “Damn. Am I that rusty?”

I smile. So does he. “It hasn’t been that long since you’ve become celibate,” I remind him.

“I haven’t had sex in two months.”

Wait, what?

Everything comes to a screeching halt at his confession.

He nods. “Wild, right?”

I hate that he just told me that. I hate that I now have a vision in my head of Knox Maguire naked. Touching someone. Kissing someone.

Touching me. Kissing me.

“That’s…a long time.” I don’t know what to say to that. I’ve gone longer.

I’m going longer as we speak.

“It is for me.” He drums his fingers on the tabletop. “How about for you?”

I frown, my brows drawing together. “How is this conversation relevant to what we’re working on…”


Tags: Monica Murphy Romance