Page 105 of The Only Heart that Matters

You have got to be kidding me. That’s what sex with a rock god is like? I’ll stick with cowboys, thank you very much.

This secret won’t be hard to keep, because there is absolutely nothing to share. I may have been a willing participant, but that was about all I contributed to the exercise.

It’s kinda funny. I have sex with the most famous man on the planet and it’s the worst sex of my life.

Hopping down from the counter, I gasp when I feel it. His cum. Dripping down my leg.

No! No! No!

We didn’t use protection.

No, no, no, no, no!

Any bit of champagne that may have had my defenses down disappears. The clarity I needed minutes ago finally making an appearance. Knox does this all the time. He has random sex as if it were getting a coffee. Who knows how many diseases he has?

Gross.

That is how I feel.

Gross. Gross. Gross.

Things aren’t so funny anymore. They’re just well, gross!

I shamefully hide the pristine white washcloth I used to clean myself up in the wastebasket next to the toilet. I don’t think Nicolette will miss it, nor would she want it if she knew what I had used it for.

Feeling stupid and extremely sober, I make my way toward the party and join the McKinnon clan, who are right where I left them. Sean and Matt from the band are there with their wives. Sean’s hand rests protectively on Samantha’s pregnant belly.

I sit next to Daisy feeling awkward and thanking the stars above sex with her brother was awful and something I never want to think about ever again, preferring to pretend it never happened.

Thirty minutes later, Knox enters the room, a bottle of tequila dangling between his fingers as he stumbles his way toward us. He’s officially blato. “Helloooo family.”

Cal is the only one who replies. “Hey, brother. Why don’t you come sit with us?” He gets up, offering his chair.

Knox takes the seat and a swig off the bottle. Cal plants himself on the other side of Daisy. We make small talk and then Sean and Matt say their goodbyes.

Once his bandmates are out of earshot, Knox begins a long diatribe about how they’re ruining the band by having families. Repeating over and over how selfish they are.

Angus interrupts him. “Dude, calm down. Just because you haven’t met the love of your life yet doesn’t mean they’re assholes because they have. There’s more to life than the band, you know. Shit, the way you get around, I’d be shocked if there aren’t any little McKinnons running around that you don’t know about.”

Everyone chuckles. It’s a joke, but he’s not lying. I now know firsthand.

“Dude, I will never have kids. Don’t want them. Never have. Never will.”

“Well, you may not want them, but if you keep living this lifestyle, you may find yourself with one anyway. You better be gloving up,” Cal says.

He’s not, Cal. Trust me on this. I think to myself.

“Dude, any woman that shows up on my doorstep saying she’s pregnant with my kid is only after one thing.” He lifts the bottle in the air, pointing his forefinger. “Fame and fortune.”

“C’mon, you don’t mean that,” Daisy says, shocked by his attitude. The looks on all our faces say we all are. I’ve never seen this side of him. Never.

“Sorry, little sister, but it’s the truth. Fame and fortune, that’s all any of them want. They don’t want me. They want the idea of me, and of course, my money. They don’t want the real me and I don’t want a kid. I’ll write them a check and they can be on their way.”

“You’re an asshole,” Daisy says, standing.

“Sorry if the truth hurts.”

Angus stands. “You’re drunk, Knox. Why don’t we head out?”

---