Page 10 of The Only Thing That's Real
Turning Billie down, but leaving her on to keep me calm, I raise my metaphorical pickaxe and attempt to break through his glacier-like exterior. It would be awkward not to acknowledge him, even if he’s too far up his own ass to do the same.
“How’s it going?”
“Great,” he says in a droll tone that says talking to me is anything but.
“Excited for this weekend’s shows?”
“Beyond.”
Oh, this damn man. I must have done something vile to him in a past life or something? Don’t quit, Ry. Don’t let him win.
“Well, I can’t wait. I had never seen the Hollow Knocks live before this assignment and I’m really enjoying the experience. I can’t wait for more.”
Nothing. The man stands there in silence, looking dead ahead as though I’m not there. Following his lead, I shut my trap and do my best not to notice the size of him. In such a small space, his six feet and several inches in height andbroad, tattooed shoulders take up most of the space. He’s wearing athletic shorts, making it impossible to miss the strength of his thighs and calves. He must do a lot of squats, because his butt is, dare I say, perky. Everything about him is big. Overwhelming. I try not to let myself wonder if the rest of him is proportionate in size.
The elevator creeps along in slow-motion, and I can’t get past him and through the doors fast enough when they finally open on my floor.
Even so, his arrogance has gotten under my skin and since I’ve never been one to keep my mouth shut, I, of course, have to speak again before I’m out of earshot. “Well, have a good day. Whatever you do, try your best to contain all that excitement of yours. I’d hate for you to combust with joy.”
Unable to resist, I glance over my shoulder, and I’ll be damned if I don’t find the brooding rock star staring at the ground with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Pride at my accomplishment is short-lived. As the door closes and his eyes lift to meet mine. All hint of humor has vanished, replaced by a glacier glare that sends an icy chill racing down my spine.
Baby steps, Ryan. Baby steps.
Leave Knox McKinnon for another day. You have more important things to deal with.
Chapter Five
Knox
“Trev, why do you always ask for medium spice, when you can barely handle mild? I’m the one who has to sit across from you while you eat.”
He smiles around a mouth full of food.
“It’s a struggle to get my food down, what with your bald ass head sweating and snot running down your nose. You’re in pain, dude. How is that enjoyable?”
“It’s the good kind of pain.” He hisses a breath through his teeth. “You know?”
“You’re a mess, man.”
I toss a fresh napkin in his direction. Once again, I’m eating Thai food alone in my suite with my manager. The rest of the band is with their families. So, here we are.
Dinner with Trevor isn’t a hardship, though. I love the guy. He’s given up a lot to be a part of the Hollow Knocks,including two wives. He hasn’t met the woman he can put first on his list yet. The band always holds the top spot. Everything and everyone comes second. Here’s hoping he’ll have better luck once this tour is over.
What I’m going to do or who I’ll be after all of this is still a mystery, but I know I’ll be spending a lot more time back home in Goose Hollow. In what capacity or how often, I’m not sure, but I’m going to make it a priority.
He sops up the sweat on his head and wipes his nose before taking a powerful pull from his EBC, a beer from Eastlyn, Oregon, which is a neighboring town to ours. We were stoked to bring Eastlyn on as the official beer of the tour. We’re proud to represent home any chance we get.
“You haven’t met with Ryan yet.”
“Nope.”
“She’s been on the road with us for two weeks now.”
“No shit. It’s like we’ve added a fifth member to the band. She’s fucking everywhere, dude.”
Sheisfucking everywhere.
