I also hadn’t given my hot, grumpy, urinating neighbor a passing thought. That’s when I lost my focus and walked smack into a solid wall of chest under a black t-shirt. “Pardon me,” I said, slapping a hand to the muscley obstacle to stay upright. “What the fuck are you doing?” Not. Again. “Are you kidding me?” I squeaked, looking up to find Knox scowling at me. “What are you doing here, Naomi?” “I’m checking Santa’s Naughty List. What does it look like I’m doing? I’m working. Now get out of my way, or I’ll hit you with my tray and I’ve had a lot of espresso today. I could get you on the floor
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