Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ryan
My conversation with Trevor, Knox’s lips, and my impending deadline wreaked havoc on my mind while I tried to write.
As I worked, it became clear my heart had involved itself. Too often, I found myself writing what I felt and not what I experienced or witnessed. There’s a reason people tell you not to mix business with pleasure.
With the members of Hollow Knocks and much of their crew not being strangers to me, I knew my emotions would influence my writing.
But that’s why they considered me for the job.
I was the hometown writer who would have a unique approach to the story.
However, no one expected sparks to fly between the author and the lead singer.
The sparks, once fueled by disdain, are now ignited by something new and unexpected.
After hours of edits and completely rewriting some sections, I emailed the magazine my submission five minutes before my midnight deadline.
Then, I made a box of mac n cheese and ate it right out of the pot, because why dirty another dish?
Especially, since I passed out on the couch after five bites, only to wake up around two with an awful kink in my neck and Knox on my mind.
My hopeful thoughts made it impossible to sleep, so I cleaned up the kitchen, threw in a load of laundry and stalked Knox online.
It was stupid, but it was the middle of the night.
If his online presence, or lack thereof, is any indication, I would say he doesn’t do relationships.
Or if he does, they don’t last long. The internet is image after image of Knox with actresses and supermodels like Ari.
The women in the pictures are who I’d expect him to be with.
I’m nothing like them. I don’t even live on the same planet.
But his words taunt me into believing I could be his type.
But trust me, Ry. If I had my way, you’d be mine and the entire world would know.
What am I supposed to do with that? It was so out of left field.
With the way the butterflies dance around my belly at the mere thought of him one thing is clear… I have a crush.
No, that’s not a strong enough word for the disturbance he’s brought to my well-being.
The warring of my heart and my common sense kept me up until 4am.
Once I’d fulfilled my quota for self-inflicted torture, I closed my laptop and passed out.
I didn’t set an alarm and allowed myself the luxury of having a schedule free day.
Yes, I said I would check into my room at some point, but the band has nothing on their calendar, so neither do I.
When I push my way into the penthouse, I kick myself for not staying here last night.
The floor to ceiling windows take my breath away.
Dropping my bags by the door, I rush to check out the view and am not disappointed.
Out the living room windows I can see the Hudson River, World Trade Center, and the Empire State Building.
Damn.
Knox gave this up for me?
Disgruntled, I tear myself away from the window to take in my surroundings.
The natural light streaming in from the ten-foot windows enhances the beauty of the sophisticated furnishings.
The colors are neutral and understated. Nothing garish or over the top.
There are two bedrooms and two and a half baths.
I’d been so distracted traipsing around the space I didn’t notice the gift basket on the wet bar.
Another small stuffed horse sits in the center of the basket with an attached card.
I chuckle to myself. I guess the girls are sticking with this horse girl nickname.
When I open the card, my focus on the initial at the bottom of the note confuses me.
It takes a few stunted heartbeats for me to dare to read the words on the page.
Ry,
I hope one day you’ll get to write what’s in your heart. Take it from me. Following your dreams is worth it in the long run. It can bring you more than you ever expected. More than fame and fortune. If you wait long enough, it may even bring unexpected people into your life.
K
Holy shit.
With trembling hands, I unpack the basket, trying not to freak out at the realization that Bullseye was from Knox.
Normally, a man gifting me a stuffed animal would be a turnoff, but it’s his way of keeping things light.
Keeping the nickname alive while keeping me company.
It’s silly. It’s sweet. I don’t mind it.
There’s a beautiful leather-bound journal with my real initials RJ embossed in the bottom right corner.
This must be for me to write what’s in my heart.
I flip through the pages, inspiration taking hold, a new idea flooding my mind.
An idea so strong I push aside the rest of the romantic gesture I’ve yet to unpack while my imagination runs wild with an epic fantasy about a mythical journal.
Twenty minutes later and as many pages written, I put aside the plot bunnies wreaking havoc on my brain and bring my attention back to the gift basket.
Inside a small red box is a strange-looking stone.
It’s glossy and heart-shaped like my rose quartz, but instead of pink it’s different colors of greens and tans, with natural lines that almost look like cracks running through the smooth surface.
Rolling it between my fingers, I wonder what in the world it is.
Picking the box up, I find a thick piece of paper tucked into the lid.
Dragon Stone activates and unlocks the heart. Piemontite has been known to strengthen and rejuvenate the heart and heal the emotional body. Chakra: Root; Heart.
Rounding the table, I plop down on the couch, journal in one hand, stone in the other. He’s saying so much without saying much at all. He sees me.
Turning the basket to face me, the next item makes me smile. It’s a very familiar board game and there’s a blue sticky note that says, Rematch?
Falling back on the couch, my feet tap the floor in a happy rhythm as I hold my gifts to my chest.
Not letting my fear get the best of me, I take a couple more bricks down and pull my phone out of my pocket.
Ryan
Thank you for everything.
Ryan
I think this room might be too big for one person, though. I should probably move to a regular room.
Knox
u have plans tonight?
He doesn’t acknowledge my thanks or talk of changing to a regular room.
Ryan
Nope.
Knox
got time for pizza and a game or two?
I stop and start my reply twice. I know I’m gonna say yes, so why do I hesitate? Especially when I know he can see bubbles stopping and starting on his end of the text. Gah! I reply and toss my phone to the sofa cushion next to me.
Ryan:
Sure
Knox
if you’re busy it’s cool.
The bubbles gave away my freak out. He thinks I don’t want to see him. This time I reply quickly.
Ryan
No. Not too busy. I would love some pizza.
Knox
see you in an hour?
Ryan
Sounds good.
If it’s only three in the afternoon, does pizza and a board game count as a date?
Are we having a day date or is this a friendly hangout?
He says we can’t cross the line while I’m writing about the band, but then he kisses me and gives me a Dragon Stone to unlock my heart.
An hour feels like five minutes and ten days with my nerves activated on all cylinders while I wait for him.
I’m not nervous because of who he is. Well, that’s a lie. It is about who he is, but not the person the world sees. I’m nervous at the prospect of something with this sweet, complicated man who makes kind gestures.
A man who is encouraging me to follow my dreams and open my heart.
A man who sees me.
Nobody has ever put this kind of effort into me. Romantically or otherwise. I’ve never let anyone this close.
I try on several outfits, struggling to find the right athleisure outfit for the occasion.
It’s pizza and a board game. There’s no need to dress up, but I want to look good.
I settle on a comfortable pair of cream Vuori joggers, a matching sports bra, and cardigan that I button halfway up.
Not my sexiest outfit, but I’m comfortable.
I’ll never be like the women I saw him with online, and I’m okay with that. Because I know I’m enough. Not because his interest tells me so, but because I know who I am and what I can offer someone should I decide to let them in.
Now, I have to decide if I’m going to continue deconstructing my walls brick by brick or take the risk of blowing it to bits and exposing myself to the vulnerability of being hurt.
Pacing back and forth in front of the wall of windows, a wave of panic hits me square in the chest when I see the basket of gifts still on the table.
Leaving the game behind, I move the other gifts to the bedroom, where Bullseye sits center stage on my bed.
Since he didn’t acknowledge his gifts or the penthouse large enough to sleep six, moving them out of sight feels like the right thing to do.
I’ve just set the basket on the dresser when there’s a knock at the door. A jolt of excitement tears through my heart. I pick up the nearest pillow and scream into it, feeling better once it’s back in its place on the bed.
When I open the door, his smile is breathtaking. With a pizza box in one hand and a reusable grocery bag in the other, he looks relaxed.
Dare I say, happy.
However, as I take in his gray sweats and matching gray hoodie, I think he might be trying to kill me. I force myself to keep my eyes on his face, but it’s a battle.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He tilts his head. “But I’m still gonna kick your ass.”
That’s all it takes for my sex-craved thoughts to turn swoony.
I am in so much trouble.