Chapter 95

“Sweetheart!... Sweetheart! Wake up!... Alex!”

Am I dreaming about him again? I open my eyes to find him standing at the foot of the bed, tapping my foot. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and red shorts, topped off with a matching red baseball cap.

I rub my eyes, making sure this isn’t a dream. I roll over and check the time—4:22 am—and see a string of messages from Knox asking if I’m awake.

I blink rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes to the light. The darkness of the room is a stark contrast to the brightly lit screen, making it difficult to adjust.

“Sweetheart, get up. Get dressed,” he whispers again, trying to get my attention.

So, this is real? What is he doing here? Why is he here? Why is he so annoying?

“Who the hell let you in?” I grumble, prying my eyes open with my fingers to send him a much-needed glare. I’m so tired right now, I don’t need this.

He needs to leave me and my beauty sleep alone. If not, I’ll look like a demon. And nobody wants that. I push myself up off the bed, looking over at his tall, well-built frame.

“Your mom kindly did. Come on, get dressed,” he says, pulling the covers off me to expose my bare legs, now prickled with goosebumps. He’s getting on my last nerve.

“Knox, what the hell? It’s 4:22 am! Fuck off and let me sleep! My mom shouldn’t have let your ass in, especially not in the room where I sleep! Get out and let me continue to sleep. You know the way out.”

I point to the door and let my eyes drift closed. I slam my body back onto the mattress and cuddle back up, pulling the covers up to regain some warmth.

After a few silent moments, I feel two arms pick me up and hoist me over a solid shoulder. He walks me over to my suitcase and picks out clothes for me.

“Put me down, you asshole! I can dress myself—” He lowers me to the floor and I proceed to pick out clothes.

I’m too tired to argue with him because we both know it’ll end up being a screaming match between us. Once I have my clothes in hand, I walk into the bathroom to change.

“Oh, so now you’re shy,” he comments sarcastically. I give him the finger to shut him up and leave him standing alone in my bedroom.

Leaving the bathroom fully changed, I throw my top back onto the bed and walk out to the main area. I see my mom sitting in a white hotel robe with Eric on the sofa. I growl at her while she smiles and rolls her eyes at me.

“Why did you let IT in?” I ask, folding my arms. I’m not happy with her for letting him in. I told her I wanted him to stay away from me.

It’s like it goes in one ear and out the other with her. Sometimes I think she does it on purpose.

“Go out and have an adventure, sweetie. It might be fun?” She rises from the sofa and makes her way around the coffee table to get to me.

Hearing her feet shuffle in her slippers along the tiles, she stops in front of me and cups my face with her delicate hands.

“Adventure? At four in the morning? It would be even more fun if it was during normal hours or if it involved sleep! And I have a funny feeling it doesn’t,” I whine, but get pulled out of the room into the hallway.

Knox pushes me down the hall towards the elevators, and I hear a faint goodbye from my mom and Eric, who are both standing at the door watching us leave.

Traitors.

There’s a heavy silence between us in the elevator, punctuated by a few awkward glances reflected in the well-polished metal.

We stop at the underground car park and he walks me over to the large four-by-four Mercedes parked near the exit. I slip inside and buckle my seat belt.

Looking around at the rows of cars parked in the desolate car park, it’s creepy at this hour.

“You are quite possibly the most annoying person I’ve ever met, Carter. I hope you know that.”

Seeing his lips tilt up for a second, he puts the car in motion, reversing out of the space and leaving the hotel car park. The idiot is depriving me of my sleep. Damn him.

I stare out the window, watching the trees blend into one large line of green, and I feel my seat reclining.

My head snaps to him and I try to hold myself up against the reclining seat, having a slight panic attack as to why it’s doing that and I haven’t pressed anything.

He has his finger on the controller and softly orders, “Sleep.”

I lie down on the gray leather seats to get comfortable. Watching his movements, I see one hand resting on the wheel and the other leaning on the armrest, a finger laying across his upper lip.