Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Mia
T he hint of Italian herbs attempts to override my senses when I walk through the front door, but try as they might, they don’t stand a chance at distracting me. Not when I feel as queasy as I do. My nerves have been going haywire all day, because my life changes tonight. I wish I could say it will be for the better, but I’m not that delusional.
As soon as I have his coat and shoes off him, Swayer takes off at the speed of light to find his Gus Gus. Pieces of my heart crumble to the ground and the words haven’t even left my mouth yet.
“Hey, buddy. How does spaghetti sound?”
“Hmm... yummy,” Sawyer replies as Angus picks him up.
“What about you, Mom?” he asks, turning his attention to me. “Spaghetti work? I know I’m repeating my recipes already, but my skills in the kitchen only run so deep.”
Does spaghetti work?
Who cares about dinner when my world is about to come crashing down around me?
The domestic scene in front of me has my head spinning and my insides churning, but I play along. “Sounds perfect.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, bile crawls up my throat. “Can you watch him for a minute? I’ll be right back.”
Not waiting for his answer, I sprint down the hall barley reaching my bathroom in time. With the reality of my situation staring me in the face, the sour stomach I’ve been keeping at bay all day wins the battle. If only retching what little was in my belly into the toilet made me feel any better.
Once I have control of my body again, I brush my teeth, change out of my scrubs and do my best to clean myself up. Pasting on a brave face, I leave the safety of the bedroom.
It’s a herculean feat to control my emotions when I find them at the table, waiting for me. Sawyer is in his high chair, one fist holding a toddler fork, the other holding his spoon, with a bib tied around his neck. Angus, his twin, has a napkin shoved into the collar of his T-shirt and silverware in his fists.
I will not cry tonight. I have done nothing but cry for months now. I’m all cried out. I’ve cried sad tears, angry tears, happy tears. Tonight, I need to be strong. For Sawyer.
I force a giggle, shaking my head at their adorableness. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“We’re gentlemen. We wouldn’t start without the lady of the house.”
Faking a smile, I pray I’m hiding the anguish slowly suffocating me. “Well, I’m here now. Eat up.”
“To be honest, manners aside, he got so messy last time I wasn’t sure how to approach Sawyer and red sauce. I’ll have to defer to you, Mom.”
Grateful for the distraction, I cut up noodles and throw together a bowl of spaghetti, busily helping Sawyer and avoiding eye contact with Angus, praying he hasn’t noticed I’m not eating. My stomach may be empty, but it won’t tolerate more than the two bites I’ve taken.
Dinner is peaceful, but messy. Once Sawyer is full, I sneak away for bath time, leaving Angus to do the dishes. It’s early, but once he’s in his jammies, I tuck Sawyer in bed and read him three different books until he finally closes his eyes.
Lingering in the moment, I stare at my little boy and hope he understands how much I love him. That I’ve only ever tried to do what was best for him. I have no idea what our futures hold after I leave his bedroom, but I know I’ll fight for my little boy, no matter the cost.
Running my fingers through his hair, I whisper, “I love you, baby boy. I hope one day when you're old enough to understand, you'll know I did what I thought was right for you. I’m so sorry for whatever we lose after tonight, but you’ll always have me.”
I sure hope that’s enough.
Planting a kiss on his forehead, I watch him for a couple more heartbeats before walking out of his room, closing the door to the quiet, beautiful life we’ve been living.
Angus is leaning against the kitchen counter, a dish towel over his shoulder, scrolling on his phone. He’s distracted and doesn’t notice me, but I notice everything about him. His tan, McKinnon skin, the intricate details of the guitar on his forearm that symbolizes his father’s love of music as well as the other art that cover his arms. There’s no ignoring the muscles straining the cotton covering his tattooed and scarred torso. But it’s his face I can’t tear my eyes away from. Long lashes line caramel-colored eyes that always seem to see more than I want to show him. His pillowy bottom lip is begging for me bite it again. He’s like a priceless painting. More beautiful the longer I admire him.
Sensing me in the room, he looks up and a smile lights his eyes. The final brush of brilliance to his magnificent face.
The man is a priceless work of art.
And he was almost mine.
Pushing off the counter, he slides his phone into his back pocket before picking up my to-do list. Pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, he waves it in the air. “Tell me something, Mia.”
“What’s that?” I manage around the panic strangling me.
“Why’d you cross off talking to me about the invite to your work thing? Because I got the email and I’ll be there with bells on.”
This is not how I wanted this to go down.
“Why do you have my list?”
“You left it on the counter.”
“So, you read it?”
“Not the point, Goof.”
“What is your point?”
“Why did you scribble out talking to me about the invite?”
Shit.
“Does it have anything to do with the last item on your list?” he asks, leaving my list on the counter where he found it and crossing the kitchen.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Babe, you know you can tell me anything.” He’s standing a foot away from me.
Babe.
I don’t deserve his term of endearment.
“I don’t know how,” I admit. Because no matter how many times I’ve rehearsed what I need to say in my head, I don’t know how to tell him.
“Sure you do. You trust me, then open that pretty little mouth of yours and lay it on me.”
He’s trying to keep things lighthearted.
It’s a futile effort.
“Even if it means it will change everything for everyone?”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“You don’t get it. Once I tell you, it will change everything. And not just for you and me.”
“Mia, I know you’re scared, but I got you.”
“You’ll hate me.”
“Why don’t you let me decide who I hate?”
Rip the band-aid off. It’s the only way.
I memorize the way he’s looking at me right now, etching it into my mind.
Inhaling through my nose, I release my breath and change the trajectory or our lives forever. “Knox is Sawyers' father.”
Angus doesn’t react. Doesn’t move or ask any questions. He says nothing. Does nothing for what feels like forever.
After the silence between us goes on for far too long, I dare to break it. “Can I explain?”
“Does he know?” The tone of his question gives nothing away.
“No.”
Ripping his gaze from mine, he takes his first step away from me—away from us—he walks past me on his way out of the kitchen toward the spare bedroom. I flinch when I hear the gentle click of the door shutting. The calmness with which he closed the door is more unsettling than if he had slammed it.
Frozen to the spot, I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen when he appears again. His military duffle hangs over his shoulder. He doesn’t spare me a glance. Doesn’t say goodbye.
He simply walks out the door like I knew he would. Although I expected some sort of conversation, I always knew this was how it would end.
And just like that, it’s over. Not the fake life I’ve created here in Angus’s home, but the real life I’ve created for my son and me. There’s no way he keeps this to himself and when the family knows I’ve kept this from them, from Knox, they’ll never forgive me.
Tired and on the verge of tipsy, but not quite, I do my best to touch up my face before joining the rest of my favorite people out in the throng of people at tonight’s party. It feels like I’m living in some kind of dream scenario.
I am currently in Nicolette Gwen’s bathroom. No big deal, she’s just the biggest pop star in the world.
Knox paid for the whole family to fly out to Los Angeles on a private plane. He put us up at the famous Sunset Marquis and earlier this evening we all attended the Grammys and were there when the Hollow Knocks won record and album of the year. We followed that up with a fancy after-party before ending up here at Nicolette’s house with the likes of Josh West and other members of the Hollywood elite.
I’ve been sipping my champagne slowly all night, trying to keep my wits about me, so I don’t miss a thing. It’s doubtful I’ll ever be here again, and I would kick myself if I forgot even a second of it. Knox is beyond drunk, and I hate to think he’ll forget anything about this special night in his life, but he’s a big boy and not my problem.
I reapply my lipstick, give my cheeks a pinch and do a half turn to see the back of my sequined black gown and my bare back. It’s simple, and though it looks like it’s painted on me, the material is light and flowing and easy to move in. My hair is in a messy on purpose up-do, leaving my neck exposed. I’ve never seen myself all glammed up like this. These days, I spend my life studying in sweats and interning in scrubs.
I look good.
I feel good.
“Maybe I’ll meet the man of my dreams when I walk out of this bathroom.” I chuckle to myself. I laugh because it’s been a while since I’ve had any kind of man in my life. I’m too busy and when I get to escape school and go home, it’s all the same people I grew up with. Tonight, I’m not back home, or at school, or working. I’m living in fantasy land, and you just never know what might happen.
A girl can dream.
And a girl could use a little sexy fun in her life.
Ready to meet my prince charming in a sea of famous faces who want nothing to do with the small-town girl here as a plus one to a famous person’s sister, I open the door just as Knox is reaching for the handle. He falls across the threshold, but I put my arms out to stop him from falling on his face.
“Whoa, big guy. Looks like you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”
My hands press against his black tux shirt. He’s gained a bit of his composure, shuffling his feet closer to mine, shutting the door behind him. But I’m still holding him up.
“Knox, I don’t think you need my help to take care of your business. I’m gonna let you do your thing.”
Knox McKinnon, my best friend's big brother, one of the most famous, most beautiful men alive, is staring at me in an unfamiliar way. His long dark brown hair is pushed behind his ears, putting his high cheekbones, golden eyes, and tan skin on display. I’ve never felt attracted to Knox, but he’s also never been this close.
“You havin’ fun tonight?” he asks, his voice low. Seductive.
“I am. Thanks again for including me.”
“I’m glad you came.” He moves closer, a light in his intoxicated gaze and a slight lift to one side of his mouth.
This is so strange.
“God, Goof, when did you get so beautiful?”
“What?”
Dropping my hand from his pecs, I step back, but he gently grabs one of my wrists as his other hand cups my cheek.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Mia.”
“Knox, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“I think I was stupid for never noticing how hot my little sister's friend is. I mean, look at you.” He spins me around to get a good look at me and in a move I’ve no doubt he’s used before, my back is pressed against the door. I hear the click of the lock.
Why is this happening? Why am I locked inside Nicolette Gwen’s bathroom with Knox, when all I’ve ever wanted was his brother? After all these years, a McKinnon brother finally sees me, and it’s the wrong brother.
“Knox, what are you do ? —”
His lips tenderly touch mine. One of his hands slides down my side to my hip.
“What are you doing?” I ask, against his mouth.
He pulls away. The smell of the alcohol skates across my cheek on the way to my ear. He licks my earlobe and the heat of his words sends a shiver through my body. “Nobody has to know, but I need to know how tight your pussy is, Mia. You look too good not to take a bite.” He sinks his teeth ever so gently into my shoulder.
Holy shit. Nobody has ever spoken to me like this.
“You’re drunk.”
He is drunk, but he’s not being rough or forceful. I could step away if I wanted to. So why haven’t I? Am I really that horny and desperate? I’m tipsy, but not that tipsy.
“Not that drunk.” Moving one of my arms that has been hanging lifelessly at my sides, he presses my hand against his suit pants.
Impressive. He fits the rock star mold to a T.
“Knox, this is stupid.”
Not as stupid as the squeeze I just gave his cock with my hand.
Wrapping one of his huge hands over mine, he moves it up and down his erection. “Might be stupid, but feels like it might be fun, doesn’t it?”
“Knox, we can’t.”
“Why not? We’re two consenting adults. I won’t tell anybody if you won’t.” His glazed eyes don’t leave mine as he clutches at my dress, dragging it up my legs while I consider his proposition.
I know he’s drunk, but he’s hot. He could have anyone he wants, and he wants me. Much to my dismay, my defenses are slowly falling. My head knows this is wrong on multiple levels, but my neglected body wants this. Not him. This. I’ve never had a secret hook-up in a bathroom before. It may be just what the doctor ordered.
With my dress gathered around my waist, his hands slide to my ass. “C’mon, Mia. What do you say? One time. It’ll be our little secret.” He trails a finger over my hip until he reaches my embarrassingly damp thong, the only thing between us.
I don’t answer him with words, instead I step my high-heeled feet apart, opening to him.
As if this was all the answer he needed, both hands grab my bare ass. He picks me up, placing me on the cold marble countertop. He tugs my dress out of the way as I fumble with his belt and then pants button. My hands are too shaky to make any progress. He swats my fingers away and has his pants down in seconds, releasing his massive cock. Knox is a big guy, but this is more than being proportional to his body size. I have no idea how that thing is gonna fit.
Wasting no time, he pushes the material covering my weeping center to the side. “Last chance to run,” he says, slipping a finger inside me. “But I don’t think you will.”
I gasp at the intrusion. Sliding his finger free, he brings it to his mouth and licks it clean of me.
I give a small shake of my head, telling him I don’t want to run. Without another word, he pulls me to the edge of the counter, tapping the outside of my thighs, signaling for me to wrap my legs around his waist. Once he has me where he wants me, he pushes into me. No foreplay. Just in and out, inch by inch, until all of him is inside me.
Resting his forehead against mine, he grunts. “Tight, just like I knew you would be.”
That’s all he says for the next minute, maybe two. He doesn’t kiss me. His hands don’t explore my body. There are no tender words. He pumps in and out of me until he comes.
His forehead still against mine, he says, “Damn, Goof. You feel as good as you look.” Pulling out of me, he tucks himself back into his pants, putting himself back together.
I’m still on the edge of the counter wondering what in the hell just happened when he unlocks the door. Turning to me, he lifts his finger to his lips as if to say we’ll both be quiet about whatever this was and then he’s gone.
You have got to be kidding me. That’s what sex with a rock god is like? I’ll stick with cowboys, thank you very much.
This secret won’t be hard to keep, because there is absolutely nothing to share. I may have been a willing participant, but that was about all I contributed to the exercise.
It’s kinda funny. I have sex with the most famous man on the planet and it’s the worst sex of my life.
Hopping down from the counter, I gasp when I feel it. His cum. Dripping down my leg.
No! No! No!
We didn’t use protection.
No, no, no, no, no!
Any bit of champagne that may have had my defenses down disappears. The clarity I needed minutes ago finally making an appearance. Knox does this all the time. He has random sex as if it were getting a coffee. Who knows how many diseases he has?
Gross.
That is how I feel.
Gross. Gross. Gross.
Things aren’t so funny anymore. They’re just well, gross!
I shamefully hide the pristine white washcloth I used to clean myself up in the wastebasket next to the toilet. I don’t think Nicolette will miss it, nor would she want it if she knew what I had used it for.
Feeling stupid and extremely sober, I make my way toward the party and join the McKinnon clan, who are right where I left them. Sean and Matt from the band are there with their wives. Sean’s hand rests protectively on Samantha’s pregnant belly.
I sit next to Daisy feeling awkward and thanking the stars above sex with her brother was awful and something I never want to think about ever again, preferring to pretend it never happened.
Thirty minutes later, Knox enters the room, a bottle of tequila dangling between his fingers as he stumbles his way toward us. He’s officially blato. “Helloooo family.”
Cal is the only one who replies. “Hey, brother. Why don’t you come sit with us?” He gets up, offering his chair.
Knox takes the seat and a swig off the bottle. Cal plants himself on the other side of Daisy. We make small talk and then Sean and Matt say their goodbyes.
Once his bandmates are out of earshot, Knox begins a long diatribe about how they’re ruining the band by having families. Repeating over and over how selfish they are.
Angus interrupts him. “Dude, calm down. Just because you haven’t met the love of your life yet doesn’t mean they’re assholes because they have. There’s more to life than the band, you know. Shit, the way you get around, I’d be shocked if there aren’t any little McKinnons running around that you don’t know about.”
Everyone chuckles. It’s a joke, but he’s not lying. I now know firsthand.
“Dude, I will never have kids. Don’t want them. Never have. Never will.”
“Well, you may not want them, but if you keep living this lifestyle, you may find yourself with one anyway. You better be gloving up,” Cal says.
He’s not, Cal. Trust me on this. I think to myself.
“Dude, any woman that shows up on my doorstep saying she’s pregnant with my kid is only after one thing.” He lifts the bottle in the air, pointing his forefinger. “Fame and fortune.”
“C’mon, you don’t mean that,” Daisy says, shocked by his attitude. The looks on all our faces say we all are. I’ve never seen this side of him. Never.
“Sorry, little sister, but it’s the truth. Fame and fortune, that’s all any of them want. They don’t want me. They want the idea of me, and of course, my money. They don’t want the real me and I don’t want a kid. I’ll write them a check and they can be on their way.”
“You’re an asshole,” Daisy says, standing.
“Sorry if the truth hurts.”
Angus stands. “You’re drunk, Knox. Why don’t we head out?”
Knox takes the hand his brother offers and we all follow them through the massive L.A. mansion. It’s time to leave fantasy land behind.
In the limo, Knox bitches about women only wanting him for his money. All the way to his place. Angus stays to take care of the drunk award winner, while the rest of us go back to the hotel. Watching Angus help his brother inside his palatial estate at 4am after the biggest night of his life, I can’t help but wish it had been him who locked himself in the bathroom with me.