Page 62 of The Only Thing That's Real

He shrugs. “You settle him. And it’s not just Knox. The whole family enjoys having you around.”

I take in Trevor’s words. Unsure what to say.

Knox hasn’t kept his feelings a secret last the twenty-four hours or so, but I’m still surprised. Upgrading and paying for my room may not be a grand gesture to Knox, but for a girl who has built a fortress around her heart, it’s pretty damn grand.

It scares me.

“Can I have tonight? I’ve got my deadline, and I’d like to do some laundry. I appreciate that the band wants me around, and I will spend most of my time at the hotel, but if I need a break, I reserve the right to go home for a night.”

Because I may need a break from the long-haired conundrum of a man who gave me his room. No, his penthouse.

“That sounds reasonable.”

“So glad you approve,” I huff on my way to the exit.

“We’ve taken over most of the building, but theband will be on the 42nd and 43rd floors. Check in when you’re ready.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Stepping off the bus, my gaze scales the glossy skyscraper where Knox will be residing for the next month and a brick from my well-structured fortress tumbles to the ground.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ryan

The elevator doors open on the 44th floor of the opulent Soho hotel after a not-so relaxing night at my apartment.

My conversation with Trevor, Knox’s lips, and my impending deadline wreaked havoc on my mind while I tried to write.

As I worked, it became clear my heart had involved itself. Too often, I found myself writing what I felt and not what I experienced or witnessed. There’s a reason people tell you not to mix business with pleasure.

With the members of Hollow Knocks and much of their crew not being strangers to me, I knew my emotions would influence my writing. But that’s why they considered me for the job. I was the hometown writer who would have a unique approach to the story. However, no one expected sparksto fly between the author and the lead singer. The sparks, once fueled by disdain, are now ignited by something new and unexpected.

After hours of edits and completely rewriting some sections, I emailed the magazine my submission five minutes before my midnight deadline. Then, I made a box of mac n cheese and ate it right out of the pot, because why dirty another dish? Especially, since I passed out on the couch after five bites, only to wake up around two with an awful kink in my neck and Knox on my mind. My hopeful thoughts made it impossible to sleep, so I cleaned up the kitchen, threw in a load of laundry and stalked Knox online. It was stupid, but it was the middle of the night.

If his online presence, or lack thereof, is any indication, I would say he doesn’t do relationships. Or if he does, they don’t last long. The internet is image after image of Knox with actresses and supermodels like Ari. The women in the pictures are who I’d expect him to be with. I’m nothing like them. I don’t even live on the same planet. But his words taunt me into believing I could be his type.

But trust me, Ry. If I had my way, you’d be mine and the entire world would know.

What am I supposed to do with that? It was so out of left field.

With the way the butterflies dance around my belly at the mere thought of him one thing is clear… I have a crush.

No, that’s not a strong enough word for the disturbance he’s brought to my well-being.

The warring of my heart and my common sense kept me up until 4am. Once I’d fulfilled my quota for self-inflicted torture, I closed my laptop andpassed out. I didn’t set an alarm and allowed myself the luxury of having a schedule free day. Yes, I said I would check into my room at some point, but the band has nothing on their calendar, so neither do I.

When I push my way into the penthouse, I kick myself for not staying here last night. The floor to ceiling windows take my breath away. Dropping my bags by the door, I rush to check out the view and am not disappointed. Out the living room windows I can see the Hudson River, World Trade Center, and the Empire State Building.

Damn.

Knox gave this up for me?

Disgruntled, I tear myself away from the window to take in my surroundings. The natural light streaming in from the ten-foot windows enhances the beauty of the sophisticated furnishings. The colors are neutral and understated. Nothing garish or over the top. There are two bedrooms and two and a half baths.

I’d been so distracted traipsing around the space I didn’t notice the gift basket on the wet bar.

Another small stuffed horse sits in the center of the basket with an attached card. I chuckle to myself. I guess the girls are sticking with this horse girl nickname. When I open the card, my focus on the initial at the bottom of the note confuses me. It takes a few stunted heartbeats for me to dare to read the words on the page.

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