Chapter 19
KNOX
I wake up to banging on the hotel door. My eyes crack open to see Sloane curled up next to me. Flashes of the night before come back to me, but they're hazy and I can't be sure I didn't dream them.
The pain in my shoulder was so strong last night, I took more pills than I should have. It was stupid, but I just wanted to escape for a while. The pain, the impending end of my career, the media storm I know is looming ahead of me, I wanted to run from all of it.
After a short pause, the hammering against the door starts up again. I pull out the pillow from under my head, but even through it, I hear Weston shout through the door. "Wake up, fucker. Sawyer is on her way up to talk to you."
That lights a fire under my ass, and I practically fall out of the bed. "Shit," I exclaim as I trip over my shoes that I must have kicked off on my way through the suite.
Under normal circumstances, I'd just tell him to go away and go back to bed.
Sawyer can exhaust herself banging on the door.
I'm not playing tonight, and we don't leave for New York for hours still.
The problem is that the team pays for the rooms, so the hotel will probably give Sawyer a key if she asks for one.
Yes, I'm paying the difference for the extra cost of the two-bedroom suite, but that's an arrangement between Gerry and me, and I'm paying him back directly.
The hotel doesn't know anything about our agreement.
I grab my sweats off the floor and pull them on. Crawling back on the bed, I kiss Sloane on the side of her head. Her gray eyes open a little.
"Baby girl, Sawyer is on her way up."
Sloane groans and pulls the blanket over her head. If only that would work. I chuckle and pull it down to see her face again. "I wish that would work, but I'm pretty sure the hotel will give her the key since she's an administrator for the team."
"She's really starting to get on my nerves," she grumbles, but starts making moves to get up. I leave her to get dressed while I go let West in.
He storms past me with a disgruntled look on his face. As if he was really put out waiting for a few moments in the hallway of a luxury hotel.
"Who pissed in your cereal?" I ask him. Not that I need to, because the answer is always Sawyer. I don’t know what is going on between them, and I don’t ask. We all say that we’re friends, but the two of them haven’t gotten along well without a buffer between them for a long time.
Like usual when West is asked about his moods, he wipes the look off his face. Back is his usual affable mask, but we both know the other face is the real one. We’re really good at letting each other hold to our delusions though, so why stop now?
“This is going to blow up in your face. You know that, right?” West asks me.
So much for letting each other bullshit ourselves. “Stay out of it, West,” I grumble.
“So I shouldn’t come up to warn you that Sawyer is on the warpath?”
I groan. “What could she possibly be pissy about now? The only thing Sloane and I did last night was go to the fucking hospital.”
He nods his head. “She thinks the fact that you took your publicist is proof there’s more than business going on between you.”
I honestly don’t give a fuck what Sawyer thinks, only what she might do if she manages to dig up proof.
This is not proof, but I’m still groggy from the pills that I took, and Sloane is way underdressed in my bed.
Nothing happened, except I do have a vague memory of begging her not to sleep in the other room.
If Sawyer bursts in now, that would be proof.
Thankfully, West’s nosey ass decided to come down the hall and warn me.
“Well, that isn’t actual proof, but I guess I owe you thanks for coming to warn me.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “You guess? No, asshole, you totally owe me for this. I’ve been fighting with her all morning over what she thinks is going on.”
It’s my turn to give him a look. “All morning?” I crane my neck to look at the clock on the wall.
“It’s like nine in the morning. What have you guys been doing alone all morning?
One of us usually has to be with you two when you’re together to keep the Cold War of your so-called friendship from turning hot. ”
The problem is that Sawyer is guessing right, she just doesn’t have actual proof.
I can keep denying it, and probably get away with it considering there’s months of my career left, not years.
Still, Sloane and I can’t get complacent, because she’s likely to be the one to suffer the consequences.
Not that I’d abandon her, but I did use her ambition against her to be with her in the first place.
The thing is, something is changing. I hope it isn’t just me, but I know that I don’t like hiding Sloane.
I’m not ashamed to be with her. She’s smart, beautiful, caring, and I’m captivated.
I’m not sure how she feels though, and I’m afraid to ask her.
At least I am when I’m sober. If my memory is correct, while impaired I told her I want her to have my babies. God, I hope that was a dream.
It isn’t like I gave her a choice to be with me.
I don’t even know if what we’re doing can be called dating.
It isn’t like I can take her out on a real date.
That would hand Sawyer the evidence she needs.
I’m not even sure how far she’s willing to go to enforce the bullshit fraternization rule.
Where are adults who work as much as we do supposed to meet each other?
I already went the socialite route, and that is a hell no from here out.
Do they want us to start hooking up with the fans?
The truth is, whether I like it or not, Sloane and I are fucking. It might be more for me, but that doesn’t mean that Sloane is doing anything more than biding her time until her internship is done and she graduates.
Before those thoughts can crystallize into an epiphany, I hear the electronic lock beep. On one hand it’s a relief, because I am not in good shape for heavy thinking, but it also means that the hotel did, in fact, give Sawyer the key card to my room.
Sawyer’s pretty face twists in anger when she sees West and I standing in the living room talking. It might not all be about me though. Neither of them has been very up front about the distance stretching between them.
“Came up to warn him?” she asks in her raspy voice.
West puts a lot of effort into projecting that he doesn’t care that she’s clearly mad at him. He shoves his hands into his pockets, giving his usual give-zero-fucks front.
“My friend went to the hospital last night, and since I was discouraged from going with him, I came to check on him. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Sure you did,” she says, adding a dramatic roll of her whiskey colored eyes. “It had absolutely nothing to do with me saying he was probably pressuring Sloane into something she isn’t ready for.”
Sawyer turns her ire on me next. “I know you’re taking advantage of that poor girl, and it ends now.”
“You know, I’m not actually a child, right? You’re not that much older than me either, so do you really think I need you to protect me?” Sloane says from the doorway of the other bedroom. How she managed to get over there without West or I noticing is a mystery.
Sawyer puts her hands up like she’s trying not to scare off a frightened kitten. “It’s not like that. I know you can handle things, but you’ve been sheltered, and —”
I honestly thought that Sawyer had a better grasp on what Sloane’s life has been like. She’s made some statements that at least made me think she knew. Clearly I was wrong if she would call being emotionally neglected and treated as the adult from age fourteen as being sheltered.
A humorless laugh breaks the silence. Other than that, Sloane’s face betrays no emotion. The way she can shut down so easily worries me.
“I’ve been sheltered?” Sloane asks as if she misheard.
Sawyer fidgets. “I know you’ve had a lot of responsibility, but you still live at home with your father.”
Sloane closes her eyes and seems to count to ten. It doesn’t seem to help her rein in her temper.
When she finally speaks, her voice comes out almost in a scream. “Because I had no choice!”
Her mouth snaps closed, and her hands start to shake. She opens and closes her mouth several times like she’s trying to decide whether or not she should explain further.
I cross the room to her and take one of her hands when I notice they’re shaking. I give it a squeeze to let her know I’m here with her because she’s got her eyes shut tight.
Sawyer’s eyes zero in on me and my response to Sloane’s distress.
I’m going to have to rethink how close of a friendship she and I actually have if she expected me to be an unfeeling asshole that would let someone struggle in front of me without trying to offer them even this small level of comfort.
She flaps her hand in our direction. “This is what I’m talking about. You’ve gotten too close.”
What she thinks isn’t important right now.
In fact if push came to shove in this exact moment I’d walk away from the team if Sloane needed me to.
The realization rocks my world for a moment, but it’s just another thing that I can’t allow myself to reflect on right now.
Later, I know I will have a lot of things to think about. Now isn’t the time.
Instead I ignore Sawyer to focus on Sloane who has started shaking all over. Fuck what Sawyer thinks. My baby girl needs me right now, so I do what feels natural and pull her into my arms. The least I can do is hold her while she’s trying not to fall apart.
I bend down to whisper in her ear, because they don’t need to have access to her private struggles if she doesn’t want them to. “You don’t have to tell her shit. It’s your choice who knows about your family.”