Page 37 of The Only Thing That's Real

Shock Value aren’t bad, but they’re young and have room for improvement. They’re slowly climbing the charts thanks to great riffs, catchy choruses, and the teeny tiny fact that every one of them is hot as hell. I’ve gotten to know the lead singer Jason and the drummer Harrison. They’re sweet and harmless enough, but most girls in the crowd want to climb them like trees.

As pretty as the entertainment is, I’m not paying attention tonight.

I’ve got my ear protection and am focused on my laptop trying to read back over what I’ve written so far for my article, but focusing is nearly impossible as I rack my brain, trying to figure out the puzzle that is Knox McKinnon. I seem to be missing a few pieces. I’m clueless why me being from the same hometown as him is a problem. Or why he’s friendly and curious one minute, then walking away in a rage the next.

What the heck am I missing?

Lost in thought, I register Shock Value leaving the stage but nearly jump out of my skin when someone taps me on the shoulder. Turning in my seat, I’m stunned to find the man who has me all twisted up standing behind me.

He asks if I have a second, but with my ear protection on, I can’t hear him well.

Standing, I pull an earbud out and say, “Hey.”

“Sorry to interrupt you while you’re working.”

“It’s no problem.”

Knox opens his mouth to say something when Jason from Shock Value walks by hand in the air. Like always. I slap it ashe passes. This is our routine whenever we see each other. No words spoken. Just a simple high-five. Knox’s brow furrows, his head tilting the way it does when he’s trying to work something out in his head.

He watches Jason until he’s out of sight. When he turns back to me, he seems to have forgotten what he came to talk to me about. With his head still tilted, he looks at me as though I am also a puzzle he’s trying to piece together. I have no intention of helping him figure it out. What I do and with who I do it with is none of his business.

“Did you need something?” I ask.

Losing his puppy dog tilt, he pushes his hair behind one of his ears. Leaning forward, he places his hands on the arms of the chair. The side of his hair not behind his ear falls like a curtain hiding us away from prying eyes when he speaks into my ear. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

He’s close.

So close I smell the peppermint of his gum. If I moved a few centimeters, his lips would touch my skin. It would be easy to do, but if he pulled away... well, I’d rather not find out how that feels.

This is the second time in an hour he’s apologized to me, but it feels different this time. It could simply be his nearness. Whatever it is, I don’t reply. Afraid to ruin the moment.

“I’ve got a lot of personal stuff going on and I’ve been taking it out on you.” His minty breath skates across my ear and the deep timber of his voice lights a flame inside me I haven’t felt in far too long. “I haven’t been fair to you and for that, I’m sorry. Can we try again tomorrow? On or off the record. It’s up to you. I have something I can’t miss after the show, otherwise I’d say tonight.”

He pulls back, his amber eyes darker than usual, drawing me in so deep I forget he’s asked me a question. It isn’t until that head of his tilts again that I come to my senses.

“Oh, sure. Yes, that would be fine.”

“Good. I’ll text you.”

“Great!’ I chirp with too much enthusiasm.

A small smile graces his lips. “So, how’s it going?” He nods to my computer.

“Not too bad. I?—”

“Hey, sexy,” a syrupy sweet voice coos.

Knox’s smile falls, his entire demeanor changing. For a millisecond before turning toward the sultry voice, he locks his eyes on mine as if trying to tell me something, but too quickly rips his gaze away. A pair of long, thin arms wrap around his neck, and he spins to face their owner. Perfect pink nails play with his hair.

That fire inside me is quickly extinguished, while my flight response kicks in.

I have to get out of here.

I’m about to walk away when he gently pushes her off him and turns back to face me. Again, with the eyes. I swear he’s pleading for help. Is he signaling an SOS or is he saying ‘sorry, don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve got to go get laid real quick before the show’?

“Ari, this is Ryan. She’s writing a series about the tour forVanityFair. She’s a great fucking writer and from our hometown. Ryan, this is Ari.”

I’m smacked upside the head by two things. First is the fact that supermodel Arianna Maxwell is standing in front of me clinging to Knox like a damn spider monkey. Second, is that Knox just complimented my writing and acknowledgedI’m from back home and seemed fine with it? His compliment should make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but the desire to claw Arianna’s eyes out is too overwhelming. I’ve never been one for long nails, but right about now they’d come in handy.

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