Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Ryan
I f I’m not mistaken, Knox McKinnon is having the time of his life on stage tonight.
The brooding rock star is nowhere to be found.
Instead, he’s smiling and interacting with the guys.
During one of their songs, that has a ska feel to it, he danced.
Like shook his ass to the crowd and danced.
The crowd lost their ever-loving minds. And what did he do when his rabid fans were screaming at his antics? He found me and winked.
He. Winked.
He found me in the wings of the stage and locked eyes on mine after every song. I didn’t sit or write the entire show. Watching Knox enjoy himself was too much fun.
I’m howling for the guys when they leave the crowd screaming for more to take their four-minute break before their encore, when Knox comes straight for me.
I’m about to tell him how phenomenal the show has been, but talking doesn’t appear to be at the top of his mind.
He pulls me behind a heavy black curtain where there are no prying eyes and kisses me like he wouldn’t survive another minute without doing so.
This kiss isn’t gentle like before.
It’s reckless.
Knox is flying high and I’m soaring right along with him. We’re hidden in plain sight, and neither of us care. His hands slide into my hair and mine roam his back. He’s a sweat-drenched mess, but who cares? I wouldn’t put this moment on pause for anything.
He kisses me like he had lost me and now that he’s found me, he can’t get enough.
Kissing him, and touching him, is the most natural thing I’ve ever done. The way he holds my face as though he’s cherishing me, while his tongue tastes me like a man starved is intoxicating.
“One minute!” someone yells in the distance.
Pulling back, he rests his forehead against mine like he did the other night, winded from the ninety minutes spent on stage and the ravenous kiss we just shared.
His heavy breath dances across my face when he says, “Thank you.”
Before I get the chance to ask why I deserve his thanks, he places one last kiss on my lips before disappearing on the other side of the curtain.
What in the world just happened?
How did we go from linking pinky fingers to the hottest kiss of my life?
Not that I minded, ?but there was no warning.
He’s thrown me completely off-balance. My fingers move over my swollen lips, searching for proof the kiss actually happened.
Not only do my lips tell the story, but my entire body is on fire.
I’m so wet with desire, I press my thighs together to quell the sensation.
Thank goodness the girls weren’t here to witness what happened. They would have lost their minds.
Staying hidden behind the curtain, I allow myself a moment to bask in the passion coursing through my body. My body that wants much more of Knox McKinnon.
When the stage lights go back up and the first notes of “Settle Down” fill my ears, I emerge from my secret cocoon. My lust-filled haze is quickly extinguished, because Trevor stands next to my director’s chair, and he doesn’t look happy.
Instead of staying to chat about what he thinks happened, I walk right past him, grabbing my computer as I do, and make my way to the after-show space to find the girls.
I shouldn’t be surprised to find at least twenty or thirty people already there.
Most of tonight’s guests are recognizable faces.
Paparazzi would have a field day with the group of socialites, actors, fellow musicians, and even the news anchor present.
The bigger the city, the bigger the friend list, and since we’re only a few hours from New York, the friends are abundant.
When the encore is over, the guys make an appearance to say hello to friends. But as they leave to get cleaned up, Knox gets my attention, keeping his eyes on me, a smile beaming across his face as he walks backwards out of the room.
Laughing, I spin around to find Marie, Kristen, and Jenn standing behind me. Their faces have we told you so written all over them.
“Told you we were witches. We know everything,” Kristen says, draping her arm over my shoulder. “Let’s have a chat, shall we?”
For the first time in weeks, Knox socializes after the show.
He chats with his celebrity friends, has a couple of beers and his eyes follow me wherever I go.
Mostly, I stay in the background, doing my best to keep out of the way.
The band and their friends deserve to have fun without worrying that the things they do or say will be reported in one of the biggest magazines in the world.
On the bus, the partying continues for another hour or so, but eventually, everyone goes to sleep.
Once the bathroom is free, I get ready for bed.
Face washed, hair in a bun, plaid pajama bottoms and a hoodie on, I tiptoe to my bunk.
I’ve just tossed my cosmetic bag on my bed when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Knox
I’m not tired. Wanna play a game?
My body heats from the implication of playing a game with him. My stomach flips and I’m wishing I looked a little less like a teenage boy in my oversized clothes. But it’s not gonna stop me from seeing exactly what kind of game Knox has on his mind.
Instead of replying to his text, I shuffle my Ugg covered feet to the main cabin of the bus where he waits at the small dining table with a board game set up in front of him.
My cheeks heat. My flip-flopping stomach crashes and burns.
Looks like we had different games in mind.
“Sequence. Best two out of three.” Not waiting for my answer, he opens the box and tosses a little bag of green chips my way and a bag of blue in front of himself.
When he starts dealing the cards, I take the seat across from him.
“You played before?” he asks.
“Reigning champ at the old folks’ home.”
His card dealing halts and his eyes lift to mine. “I’m going to assume that’s sarcasm.”
I bring my thumb and forefinger almost together. “Just a bit. But I do know how to play.”
“Hope you aren’t a sore loser.”
“Right back at cha, Old Man McKinnon.”
“Old man, huh?”
“Well, it’s one in the morning and you want to play a board game. And... you do have a birthday at the end of next month.” I whisper the number 39 as though he’ll be so old it can’t be spoken aloud.
“You’re a cruel woman.”
“Just stating the facts, sir.”
We sift through our cards. I arrange mine by suit and examine the board.
“Soon to be loser goes first.”
“Whatever,” I say as I lay down my first card and chip.
We play in silence until Knox breaks the silence. “When’s your birthday? ”
“February 12th. And it’s very wise of you not to ask my age.”
“Well, you’re in my sister’s class, so I have a pretty good idea. I would say you’re 32, but if you were born in February, you probably didn’t start school until the next fall, so you’re 33. I’m only five and a half years older than you.”
“Wow. The man can sing and do math. Impressive.”
He wags his brows. “I have many talents.” He winks and my stomach does another clumsy backflip.
His innuendo forgotten, we continue playing, only talking when declaring a sequence. He wins the first game. I win the second. We’re tied up in game three when he speaks again.
“Do you have your rose quartz with you right now?”
“Always.”
“Can I see it?”
Hesitantly, I pull it out of my pajama pants pocket and hand it to him.
He rolls it around in his hand. “Unconditional love, huh?”
I nod.
“Helps to heal a broken heart?”
“That’s what they say.”
“You believe in all that?” He continues to rub his thumb over the pink heart-shaped stone.
“I know I miss my grandma, and I believed in her. She was my rock. No pun intended.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“When I needed her, she was there. Do I believe in mystical things? Nah. Not really. Do I believe my gran loved me unconditionally, even though she knew her son wasn’t my birth father? I do. So, I guess in my own way, I believe in its powers.”
“Does your heart need to heal from a lover’s heartbreak or from family heartbreak?”
“I’ve built up some pretty tall walls, and never really let anyone get close enough to attempt to climb them.”
He hands it back with an understanding nod.
We play the rest of the game in comfortable silence. He’s the first to speak and when he does my heart melts from his sincerity.
“I’m sorry your heart has needed healing.”
“Hasn’t everyone’s at some point? It’s a part of life.”
“Still.”
“Thank you.” I put a green chip on the board. “Sequence.”
His eyes widen. “Oh, you dastardly woman. You distracted me.”
“You’re the one who asked about my heart. That’s on you, McKinnon.” I leave out the Old Man. I’ll save that for another time.
“Well, this winner is going to hit the hay,” I say through a yawn, standing to go to bed.
As I pass by him, he gently grabs my hand. “Sleep well.” He kisses the inside of my wrist before releasing me.
Making my way back to my bunk, I know two things for certain.
Sequence is my new favorite board game, and I’ve got it bad for Knox McKinnon.