Page 13 of The Only Thing That's Real
Closing the door, I turn to find Knox leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest.
“Beer?” I offer the unopened one in my hand that’s likely lukewarm from being pressed against my heated chest.
He shakes his head. Mute as always where I’m concerned.
“Okay. Well, good talk,” I say, turning to leave.
“You can sing.” It’s not a question.
“Nah, not really. It’s a kick ass song, is all.”
“No. You can sing.”
I shrug, because what else am I supposed to say when a man who refuses to acknowledge my existence pays me a compliment?
“You sing often or professionally?”
I scoff. “What? No. Just for fun with friends.”
He pushes off the counter to leave. As he passes by me, he leans down to whisper in my ear. The clean scent of woodsy coconut hits me as his breath skates over my ear. The combination nearly makes my knees buckle.
“That’s a shame.”
Chapter Seven
Knox
Bracing myself for the electric distraction of Ryan Staley, I walk on stage and know instantly something’s off.
She’s not here.
I’ve been able to think of nothing but her since hearing her sing two nights ago. Her voice a smokey seduction mixed with the way her body swayed to the music, dominated my thoughts as I jerked off in bed last night and again in the shower this morning. The woman is a fire I can’t put out. She is fresh air and the smoke of a campfire all at once. Just like campfire smoke, no matter how many ways I try to avoid it, it finds me, choking me out until it’s hard to breathe.
Jennifer is out on the empty arena floor chatting with Kristen. But I don’t see Marie or any of the kids. Trevor isn’t here either.
“Where is everyone today?” I ask Jay, as I press my earpiece into my ear.
“Trevor is in a meeting with the promoters and Marie and her mom are taking the kids on a tour of D.C.”
Continuing to search my surroundings, I’m shocked at the disappointment filling my chest when I don’t find the auburn-haired Billie Eilish fan. I could hardly believe my ears when I’d caught her waiting for the elevator singing one of the most undeniably perfect songs of recent years. Her voice had been quiet but beautiful. I had never wanted to harmonize with someone like I did with Ryan that day outside that elevator.
Then the other night happened and fuck me. If I don’t get to sing with her before I die, I will die a very disappointed man.
“You looking for Ryan?”
Busted.
“Well, isn’t she like our new Yoko? Thought she was supposed to be everywhere we were.”
Shut. Up. McKinnon. Could you be more obvious?
“Well, I’m not sure what you did to her, but she took off early yesterday morning.”
What the fuck? Seriously?
“I doubt it was me. Not when she has her fan club to feed her ego.”
“Hello pot. Meet kettle.”
