Page 67 of The Only Thing That's Real

After this appearance, the band has a full schedule of press before dinner with a Make-A-Wish recipient at a charity gala. Even Trevor would agree, there is no need for me to hang around all day. So, while the band is performing and their manager is distracted, I sneak away to my apartment. I need to do more laundry, go through my mail, pay some bills, and get my head on straight. Being around Knox and his flirtatious mood is like a hypnotic form of torturous foreplay that if I’m reading him correctly, won’t be anything more than that until my assignment is over.

Knox

Where are you?

The name on my phone elicits the reaction of a boy-crazed teen. I’d tell my heart to settle, but it would be futile. At this rate, I’ll need to dust off my vibrator before heading back to the hoteltonight.

Ryan

Went home to do some laundry.

A second later, my phone rings.

“Mr. McKinnon,” I answer, not bothering to hide the smile in my voice.

“I wanna see you.” His voice is low, purposefully seductive.

“Uh, you’re a little busy today.”

“We have a three-hour break. Drop me a pin. I wanna see you and your place.”

“You don’t have time for pit stops.”

“Pin. Now.”

My cheeks burn from grinning at how much I love his bossy tone. “Why do you want to see where I live?”

“I want to know everything about you, Ry.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“This is stupid. You know that, right?”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Knox—”

“Your assignment is over in a few weeks. We won’t be working together forever.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“I have no fucking clue, but I’d like to find out.”

Don’t you dare!My brain screams as I lift my finger and send him my location. My heart whispers, be careful. My libido growls, get it, girl.

“On my way.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I called ahead to my doorman to tell him to buzz Knox in when he got here, but he must have been waiting around the corner, because he’s already here. Shit! When I open the door, I’m out of breath from making my bed and tidying up myself and the apartment.

Like a damn God, he looms large in my doorway.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I repeat, taking in his dark hair and golden eyes before letting my gaze drift to his straight nose, delicious lips, and that damn superman dimple of his. It’s summer in the city but the rock guy that he is still wears black boots with his jeans and black T-shirt.

---