CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
KNOX
We wake up to my alarm, the first and only one I’ve set since I’ve been staying here. And reason enough to remind me why I hate them. Mostly, because this one was set to help me leave.
I don’t want to leave.
My flight is scheduled for way before Sloan’s normal waking hours, so Kenley and I let her sleep as long as possible, spending a quiet half an hour just the two of us, the dogs and coffee.
We sit curled up on the sofa, her legs across my lap, neither of us saying much.
“What happens when you get to where you’re going?
” she asks. “Is someone you know picking you up? Do they send a car? Do you just uber your way to wherever your tour bus is parked?” It’s like every question she says out loud, triggers another one.
“Do they just drive the tour bus to the airport to come and get you?” She’s smirking at that one, likely imagining how that scene might play out.
“Normally when I have to fly in to meet up with everyone, management sends a car for me. Most of the time, I’m only separated from everyone because I had some appearance or interview or photoshoot or whatever.
My management team handles all of that, so they make sure I get to and from the tour bus as well,” I explain, trying to give her more insight into the life she thinks could make me forget her.
“If it’s up to me, I usually just go with Uber.
” If I have a choice between lowkey, real people or official, formal interactions, I’m always going to go with the first one.
“Matti’s coming to get me today though.” He texted me late last night to tell me.
“You two are closest, huh? Out of the band?”
“It’s hard not to be close to everyone you spend half the year living in such close quarters with, but yeah,” I agree, “we’ve been at this together the longest, so it’s probably fair to say we’re closest out of everyone.
” Then I think of Jason and Cass. “I mean, I guess it depends on your definition of closest. Some might argue Jason and Cass are closer than me and Matti, if we’re going for a more literal, physical interpretation of things. ”
She grins. “I wonder what that’s like. Living the rock star life without having to make the sacrifice of leaving your loved one home while you’re on the road.”
“That part’s probably good.”
Her eyes flash with outrage and surprise, but she laughs too, so she’s not really offended. “Probably?”
I can see where it sounded shitty now. “I meant that specifically for Jason and Cass,” I clarify.
“They have a weird dynamic. They can be head over heels mad for each other one minute and then just mad at each other the next. And I do think being on tour together all the time adds to the constant build-up of tension between them.”
She sips her coffee, thinking it over.
Before she gets too lost in thought, making up stories, I add, “They’d probably be fine if they had their own space.
But they’re not just constantly with each other, they’re always with me and Matti, too.
Plus, about twenty or so crew members that travel with us.
It takes a lot for them to scrape together a few moments of privacy, time to just focus on each other, so it’s not surprising when one or the other starts lashing out.
It’s gotta be frustrating to have your person so close by but never have your needs met, never be able to meet your partners needs the way you’d like to. ”
“Can’t you guys get another bus?”
“Trust me, we have enough of those. We’re like a traveling circus everywhere we go as it is. Privacy just isn’t part of this lifestyle. Not like it is elsewhere anyway.”
She nods but stays quiet for a moment longer.
Then, she seems to have another thought. “When Matti was married, did his wife ever come on tour with you guys? Do his kids ever join you now?”
I chuckle. “Having thoughts about the future?”
“No.” She hides her face behind her mug. Busted.
“So, just random curiosity, got it.” I laugh at her.
“In that case, yes, his kids meet up with us regularly on weekends or when they have time off from school. But Nessa rarely joined us. I don’t even know why.
I think Matti just felt like he was a better husband keeping things separated.
When he was with her, he was one hundred percent focused on her.
When he was on tour, he was one hundred percent focused on music.
He never had to half-ass either one that way. ”
I watch her bite her lip. I can literally hear her mind begging her to ask out loud if I would do it the same way.
I wouldn’t. A week ago, I probably would have said otherwise, but now, I can’t imagine myself being split in two like that.
Even when I leave her, when I go step on stage tonight and give it my all, my all will include her.
She’s a piece of me now. How I love her, I will love her, hold space for her, in everything I do.
I open my mouth to tell her just that when I notice her teeth have released her lip and the focus in her eyes has faded.
She’s not stressed about it anymore. This place of in between she’s created for herself, is bringing her comfort, a peace I can’t give her until I come back and show her all the things I want to say are true.
So, I keep my mouth shut. I run my hands gently up and down her calves, and I drink my coffee, savoring the last minutes we have together before we have to leave for the airport.
KENLEY
“So, how does this work?” Sloan asks from the backseat just as we’re pulling into the airport parking lot.
I like this airport. It’s small. Unlike the International one an hour away, this one doesn’t require circling a parking garage for ten minutes, nor do you have to take a monorail just to get into the airport after you leave your vehicle.
“How does what work?” I answer, not all sure where this conversation is headed. “Flying? Airplanes? What?”
“Knox,” she says, narrowing things down a bit.
“Like, I’m guessing you don’t fly coach with the rest of us mere mortals.
And if you’re in first class, do you not have to worry about being recognized?
Are they all celebrities in there? Or are you going to be busting out your grocery store disguise for the trip.
You know, baseball cap and sunglasses. Super mysterious but still totally recognizable. ”
We park and Knox unbuckles, then turns in his seat until he can look at her.
“For your information, I fly coach regularly. I don’t really care where I’m sitting on an airplane, all I do is sleep while I’m there anyway, and thanks to my early years of touring in an old Jeep with four other dudes while pulling a little, shitty old trailer with all our gear from town to town and no money for hotels, I can sleep literally anywhere. ”
She makes a face, unwilling to concede but clearly realizing her assumptions were a bit off.
He pokes at her playfully, “And my grocery store disguise does just fine, Miss Know It All.”
This one, she’s definitely not buying. “People never recognize you while you’re traveling.” It’s not even a question. More like a dare.
“Some do.” He shrugs. “But so what? All they want is a quick selfie. Maybe I sign something. I don’t mind and they walk away happy. And best of all, I don’t have to walk around with a paper bag over my head to hide my identity at the standards you deem appropriate.”
She tries to sigh, but it just comes out as half a laugh. “Fine. I guess you have this rock star business sorted out, and apparently, it’s way less glamorous than I thought.” She opens the door to climb out.
Knox is already doing the same.
I’m the last one out, but I still join them in time to see their antics continue.
“You’ve been hanging out with me for days, you should know by now I don’t do glamorous,” he teases her.
She reaches up to flick at his hat. “No kidding. This old thing is about as far from glam as you could get. You make like a gazillion dollars, how worn out does it have to be before you spring for a new one?”
“Hey!” He reaches up to adjust his cap and pull it on tighter. “I’ll have you know I love this old worn-out cap. And I would get a new one, except they discontinued this design. So, I can’t.”
I shake my head at both of them. “Think you two can pull it together before we walk in? Or are you two going to squabble with each other the whole way to security?”
Knox and Sloan just shrug, bouncing into each other while they walk, and laughing every few steps.
I smile at the sight. I also swallow down a giant lump attempting to climb my throat and break free in a wave of emotion I will never gain control of if it succeeds. So, I don’t let it escape. I force it down. Over and over. Until we’re inside.
Knox checked in online already and since he left his loaner guitar behind at my place (for now), he has nothing outside of his backpack for luggage, so there’s not much to do but head straight for the security check.
Which sucks.
So much more than I allowed myself to think it would.
I should have been actively dreading this moment, mentally preparing myself instead of denying it, and avoiding every thought and feeling related to it at all costs.
“That was way fast,” Sloan mumbles when we reach airport security and the place where we part ways. I think the reality of this moment has caught her off guard as well. “We never drop anyone off this fast.”
“Everyone else always has luggage to check,” I point out the major difference here.
“But everything else is the same.” I try my best to keep my voice as even as I can.
“We’re going to hug Knox goodbye. We’re going to tell him we love him.
And then we’re going to watch him walk through security and we’re going to stand here and wave until we can’t see him anymore.
And then, we’ll feel a little sad and we’ll go get tea and coffee, and maybe a giant cookie if we’re a little extra sad, and then we’ll go home.
” I wrap my arm around her shoulder, tugging her closer.
“We’ll mope around a bit, talk about how empty the house feels now, and then we’ll go to bed.
And tomorrow, we’ll wake up to Brinna whining because she’s bored and wants to go out.
Someone will bark to remind me about breakfast. The coffee maker will make that dripping sound I love.
And just like that, the house won’t feel empty or quiet anymore. ”
“You make it sound like Knox can be replaced by a bunch of noise, most of which you find annoying first thing in the morning.”
“Not the coffee maker though.”
She rolls her eyes.
“And your mom’s right,” Knox steps in. “All that normal noise will be comfortable. Familiar. Even if things feel a little different.”
Sloan reaches for him, wrapping both arms around his torso and pressing the side of her face to him. “I liked it better when we talked about you coming back,” she says quietly. “I know plans change. I could adjust to changing plans. I’d still rather we had one.”
He holds her just as tight, bending down to kiss the top of her head.
“It won’t always be like this. It’s just new.
And we’re still figuring things out. And yeah, it sucks that you’re stuck in the middle of it, dealing with our decisions, but I’m also really glad you’re stuck in the middle of all of it.
So, I can’t be sorry. I’m sorry it sucks, but I’m not sorry you’re stuck in this situation that sucks. ”
She sighs. “I’m not sorry either.”
Gradually, she starts to untangle herself.
“Know what I definitely don’t have to figure out?” Knox says cupping her face with his palm. “How much I love you and your mom.”
She smiles, tears twinkling in her brown eyes. “Good. Because we love you too.”
I sniff. I don’t mean to. But fuck, this might just take me out.
Sloan looks up at me for a second, then looks back to the small gift shop just a few feet away. “I’m going to go see if they have any magazines I might like,” she says, in a strange but deliberate way.
“You don’t read magazines.”
“I may start.” She bugs her eyes out at me, then gestures for me to talk to Knox as she backs up to give us some privacy.
“Your ex is an idiot,” he grumbles under his breath, moving in closer to me. “I feel like a dad after three days with that kid, how can he have been with her from birth and not feel what I’m feeling?”
I swallow what feels like my heart having leapt to my mouth, sending it down to plummet to my gut where it hits like a brick. I suddenly don’t think I can do this.
But I can’t ask him to stay. Even if I thought he’d say ‘yes’, that some small part of him even wanted me to, I could never do that to him.
So, I have to do this.
He takes both my hands, one in each of his. “I’ll call you when I get there.”
I shake my head. “No, don’t.”
His brow crinkles and I know I’m going to hurt him again. It’s the last thing I want to do. “Why not?”
“I don’t want to drag this out,” I whisper, my voice failing me.
“The next four days are our shot at seeing what is real and what was just fantasy. So, I think we should let those days be as normal as possible. Do your shows. Fall back into all your regular routines. No calls. No texts. No taking me along.” I pause.
I need a moment to wrangle my own feelings back into submission.
“If the bubble doesn’t pop, then you come back.
We figure out how to move forward for real.
If it does, we have a clean break. No dragging anything out.
No hurting each other in slow motion. No tainting what we had the last few days by turning it into a burden we don’t know how to release each other from. ”
“What if I come back and you’re the one whose bubble popped?”
I shake my head. “What we lived the last few days was my real life. I’m going to go home and face the fact that there’s an empty space now where you fit perfectly.
You’re going to go back to a life I’ve never had a place in to begin with.
My bubble popped the night you followed me from the stage out into the parking lot.
That’s where my fantasy ended, and my real life began.
” I shrug, helpless to do anything else.
“But that’s where your fantasy started.”