CHAPTER NINETEEN
KNOX
I wake up early and carefully untangle myself from Kenley without waking her.
My gaze keeps pulling back to where she’s sleeping while I throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
I always thought those lines about waking up to that someone special were overrated, romantic bullshit people just throw around.
It’s not. Gratitude hums in my chest when I see her lying there, peaceful expression on her face, hair a wild tangled mess around her head, one leg kicked out from the covers, pajama pants pushed up to her calf.
I can’t even put into words why I feel how I feel, I just.. .feel it.
She’s mine, more than anyone before her.
And I don’t need to lay claim to her to know it.
She’s a part of me, the way she moves when she’s near me, the way we fit into each other.
Hell, the fact we sleep on that fucking couch together and both get a good night’s rest, is all the proof I’ll ever need our bodies have come home to one another.
As quietly as I can, I step out into the hall.
I can see through the crack in the door, Sloan’s still out too. Not that I expected that night owl to be awake at this hour. Only one of the dogs even bothers to follow me down the stairs, the other two stay curled up in the room with Kenley.
Downstairs, I worry a little less about the noise and get busy making coffee. A few minutes later, I’m walking out to the dock again, a mug in one hand and Jarod’s guitar in the other, one of my notebooks folded and stuffed in my back pocket.
I get settled just in time to call in for my radio interview.
We stay on for nearly twenty minutes discussing my new album and the current tour.
Everyone’s known for years, my private life is always off limits.
Some still try to get me to spill something personal, but today, they’re kind enough to respect my boundaries and keep it all business.
Once I finish up my bit of work for the morning, I stay out on the dock playing and writing for a good hour before I head back inside.
I’m still the only one up. Well, me and Brinna.
I refill my coffee and take her outside to play ball.
I spend probably twenty minutes throwing it out across the yard and watching her race, leap and catch it, then running it straight back to me, before she gets tired and starts to hog the ball, no longer willing to give up if all I’ll do is throw it again.
This time, when I walk back inside, Kenley is awake and fixing what looks to be her first cup of joe.
“Thanks for making coffee,” she smiles, about to take her first sip. “And playing with Brin.”
“Of course.”
Her pajama pants are still stuck on her left calf. She looks ridiculous. It’s also the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. Between her level of ‘don’t give a fuck’, her wavy morning hair and the wild green eyes peering at me over the rim of her cup, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything hotter.
“You gonna fix that?” I ask, pointing at her pajama pants, trying to think of anything other than what I’m thinking about.
Things I can’t think about and not want to do while looking at her and thinking about them.
But things I definitely can’t do with Sloan upstairs with an open door and walls that might as well be hanging sheets for all the privacy they offer.
“Nah. It did its own thing there; it can undo itself too.” She walks toward me, still cradling her mug in both hands, keeping it close to her mouth. Goddamn, I wish she’d take another sip and cover it. “I saw the guitar was moved. Did you get some writing in?”
I nod, giving my brain a moment to refocus. “Yeah, went out to the dock again. It was perfect out.”
“Can I hear what you wrote?”
“Soon. It’s not done yet.” I move past her to go refill my own cup. “What are your plans this morning?”
Her forehead crinkles. She can tell I’m intentionally moving the conversation away from my new song.
A song I would love to play for her but can’t because it’s full of all the shit I want to say to her but can’t because she’s still too scared to hear it.
So, we have to talk about something else.
Something that pertains to only now. “Have any work stuff you need to get done?”
Gradually, she starts to move her head up and down. Even if she doesn’t understand why, she’s willing to roll with it. “I have a few things I need to jump on the computer and do. Won’t take me long. You?”
“I have a few calls to make.” All of them are related to my travel arrangements tomorrow and making sure we’re all set for our performance tomorrow night.
“Okay.” She sips her coffee, both of us just standing here, staring at each other. It’s the first awkward moment we’ve ever had between us.
“We’re much better when we’re telling each other uncomfortable truths than we are when we’re implying simple lies,” I point out.
“We’re not lying.”
“We’re not all in either.” I shake my head. “I’m going to go jump in the shower.” I press a kiss to the side of her head as I move by her. “I love you. But I hate this .”
I can feel her wince at my side, but she stays silent as I walk away and go upstairs.
KENLEY
Sloan is up and about by the time Knox is showered, making it easy to shift back into a now that feels light without the weight of unspoken futures, the ones we fear as well as desire.
Despite how little time we’ve spent getting to know one another, navigating the present is simple.
Natural even. Everyone gets ready for the day in their own time.
Knox settles in the living area to make his calls, I take time at my computer to work while Sloan holes up in her room, doing school from her bed.
She’s the last to get up and shower, but come lunchtime, we’re all gathered downstairs together to eat.
Lunch is simple today, made up of sandwiches prepared to the individual’s cravings and enjoyed while spread out over the small living room area. Knox and Sloan take up the sofa, while I settle on the floor, dogs lying around me in a circle, hoping I’ll share.
The dogs end up with more of my lunch than I do. Somehow, I’m finding it hard to keep an appetite long enough to put food in my system today.
“Whoa,” Sloan breaks up the quiet that comes when everyone is busy putting food in their mouths, “I just realized you’re not going to be here for lunch tomorrow.”
“That is correct.” Knox does his best to smile, as if even that is just business as usual. No big deal. “Tomorrow I’ll be eating lunch...somewhere else.”
“That’s going to be so weird.” She looks at me, like she’s expecting me to have some sort of reaction.
“No really.” I do my part to keep my face as neutral as possible. “It’s usually just you and me. It’ll just be normal.”
Her brow furrows. “It’s not going to be normal. It’s going to be weird .” She repeats more emphatically the second time around.
“It will be a little weird going back to the old normal,” Knox offers what I’m guessing he considers a compromise.
“And personally, I think it’s going to suck having lunch without you, but,” he holds up his hand, making a point, “we knew when I came to stay that I would have to leave, and even though I hate leaving, I am so glad I got to come and stay.”
Sloan grins, popping a grape in her mouth. “Me too.”
“Me three.” I mean it. No matter how this plays out, I’ll never be sorry I gave him my number, met him for pancakes, or brought him home. “Speaking of leaving, Sloan, we gotta get ready to go.”
She glances at the time on her phone and jumps up. “Crap. I still have to do my hair.”
“Leave your dishes, I’ll get them.” I wave my hand for her to get moving.
“You leave the dishes,” Knox says, winking at me as he starts to clear her plate. “I’ll get them. You go do what you gotta do to get you two out of here in time.”
I get up from the floor as gracefully as I can, handing him my dishes.
“Thank you.” I start to hurry after her, then stop short of the stairs.
“Wait, you’re not coming with us?” He promised he’d watch her dance tonight.
And keeping his word with her is the one thing I need him to do more than anything.
“Your mom said they’d give me a ride. I saw her in passing this morning, leaving the dock.”
Right. Of course. “Perfect.” I was worried he’d be bored out of his mind hanging around the theater parking lot until they finally open the doors to the audience.
With everything going on, I totally spaced the fact my parents were coming tonight too.
Which of course makes me wonder who else might show up.
And by that, of course, I mean I wonder if Sloan’s dad will decide to show.
I guess we’ll leave that one up to surprise. No need to stir that pot by asking if she’s heard from him when the chances are slim the answer’s yes.
“You don’t have to act all tough in front of me, you know,” Sloan says, catching sight of me in her mirror while she does her hair.
“What do you mean?” And yes. Yes, I do.
“You know what I mean. Acting like you’re not upset that Knox is leaving.” She slides a bobby pin into her bun. Then follows it up with two more before she decides its sturdy enough.
“Of course, I’m upset that he’s leaving,” I admit.
“But that was the deal when we agreed to hang out this week. It wasn’t forever.
Just until his next show.” I notice half her dance shoes have been pulled from her dance bag, probably in search of the black leotard she’s now wearing, and I bend down to put them back.
“It’s been a very Cinderella sort of experience.
I went to a concert. Met a rock star. But when the magic wears off, everything will go back to how it was. ”
“I think you fall back on that story more than you should for a woman your age,” she mutters, digging around her make up bag. “Did you get more fake lashes?”
“I did. They’re packed in my dance mom bag.” Yes. I have one of those.