“Coward,” she spats out again. “It’s not a silly relationship if you love each other.”
I throw my hands up. “How do you think I feel, Mia? I’m about to go to classes and all I can think about is him hanging out with her. A girl doesn’t fly across the country to see an ex who doesn’t want anything to do with her.”
“Did he know she was coming?”
“He said no.”
“Then there’s your answer, genius. He didn’t invite her.”
“She posted a throwback picture of them kissing on Instagram the same night. How do you explain that?”
“She’s obviously trying to get in your head. Shit, I’d do the same thing if Dixon started dating someone else. It’s what you do when you’re desperate. She knew she could get to you that way.”
“It doesn’t matter. He pretty much said he was done and hung up on me.”
“Whatever, you’re going to be the one who regrets it in the long run.”
46
Libby
TEN WEEKS LATER
The sound of my phone ringing wakes me up.
I blindly slide my hand around on the nightstand in the dark until I find it.
It’s three in the morning, and Knox’s name is blinking across the screen, surprising the hell out of me. We haven’t talked since the Stella situation in Thailand.
I quickly hit the answer button. “Hello? Is everything okay?”
Phone calls this late are never good. They’re either drunk-dials or tragedies.
I’m praying for a drunk-dial.
“No,” he murmurs, blowing out a deep breath.
“What’s going on?”
“I had a break in my schedule for a few days and decided to come home. I wanted to sleep in my own bed, shower in my bathroom, and all that good shit. I get here after an exhausting ten-hour flight and walk into a complete nightmare. I wasn’t sure who else to call but you. You’re the only person I know that’s on my team and gives a shit about my side of the story.”
I gulp in air. “What happened?”
“Nate decided to turn my house into the fucking Playboy mansion. It’s completely trashed. The police are here now, and I can’t even begin to list all of the shit that’s missing.” He pauses. “My guitar is gone, Libby.”
My chest caves in and my eyes start to well up at the sound of hurt in his voice. I’m positive he’s holding back his own tears. His most prized possession, a ten-dollar guitar, has been taken from him. Sadness shatters through me. I want to kick Nate’s ass myself.
I flip on my lamp, hop out of bed, and start searching for something to throw on. “Do you want me to come there?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s late. I feel bad for even waking you up.”
“I’m on my way.” He can’t go through this alone. I won’t let him.
“Libby …”
“I’m on my way.”
“Okay.”
The relief in his answer tells me I’m doing the right thing.
Cop cars are blocking access in front of his gate when I pull up. I’m shuffling through the glove compartment in search of the gate opener when an officer knocks on my window.
“Sorry, miss,” he says, when I roll it down. “This is a private drive.”
“I’m here to see Knox,” I tell him.
He chuckles, giving me a condescending look. “You and every other pap and fan around here.”
“I’m not the paparazzi or a fan. I’m his assistant.” He’s still giving me that look – like it’s not the first time he’s heard someone say that. I grab my phone from the cup holder. “Hold on. I’ll call him right now.”
He crosses his arms and nods while I hit Knox’s name. I tell him the situation when he answers, and he says he’ll handle it.
“The girl in the Jeep is his assistant,” are the words that come through the officer’s radio. “Please have everyone make a note that Libby Graves is always allowed on the premises.”
“Sorry, only trying to do my job,” he says. “Especially given the situation why we’re here. I want to give you a heads up, it’s not pretty.”
“I understand. Better safe than sorry.”
He tips his head down and gestures for me to go forward when the gate opens.
Knox is waiting for me in the driveway and meets me when I get out of the Jeep. I can see the pain on his face. The loss. The hurt. The fight with himself on how he’s going to deal with Nate. He was only trying to help someone and ended up getting screwed over.
He moves in closer, trapping me between him and the car, and his eyes meet mine. “I kicked him out,” he whispers. “Am I wrong for that? I threw all of his shit out of my house and told him he’s never welcome here again.”
I reach down and grab his hand. “I would’ve done the same thing. He needs to give you space. He took advantage of you.”
We stand there silently staring at each other for a few minutes until we hear the click of a camera.
“Fuck,” he hisses, scrubbing his hand over his face. “They’re like cockroaches. They always figure out a way to slither in somewhere and take a picture.”
I keep my head down when he snags my hand in his and leads me through the front door and into the house. My stomach sinks when I take a look around.
The place looks like it’s been dragged through hell. There are marks, holes, and graffiti all over the walls, and I swear I see splatters of blood. The floors look like they’ve had almost every drink imaginable spilled on them, and half of the furniture is either ruined or missing.
He throws his arms out. “Welcome to the home I’ve worked my ass off for.”
“We’ll get it fixed,” I say, trying my hardest to sound reassuring.
He picks up a vase and throws it across the room. It hits a wall and shatters to pieces. “That’ll take months! I don’t want to look at this. The sight of it makes me fucking sick. This doesn’t feel like my home anymore. I feel violated in here.”
“Then come stay with me and let them get it cleaned up.” The words leave my mouth before I even think about what I’m saying.
I can tell he’s just as surprised as I am when he turns around to look at me. “You don’t have to do that. I can stay at a hotel.”
“You’re right, I don’t have to, but I want to. You’ve been staying in hotels and the bus for months. You came here to sleep in your own bed …”
“That’s not happening again. Who knows what venereal diseases it’s infested with. I had the door locked, but that doesn’t stop thieves. I’m half tempted to burn this thing to the ground.”
“It might not be as comfortable as yours, but let me tell you, my bed is pretty damn comfy. Mia’s parents are big on expensive furniture.”
He raises a brow. “You sure about this?”
“Absolutely. You’d do the same for me, if not more. Grab whatever you need.”
My head is spinning when he loads his bag into the backseat. I’ve asked Thomas to return the Jeep numerous times, but he always says Knox will contact me when he gets back. I feel like a fraud driving it around, but I have no other means of transportation and had no idea where to take it.
The ride is quiet on the way back to the condo. I hit the brakes, waiting for the gate to open, and notice Knox powering down his phone.
“Not in the mood for calls tonight?” I ask.
“I’m probably not in the mood for calls for the rest of the week,” he says, letting out an exhausted breath. “I don’t even remember the last time I left this thing off for more than five minutes. I always seem to be connected, and for once, I want to get a break from it all.”
“I get it.” Reporters were blowing me up for stories, and everyone I went to school with wanted to get the scoop when everything with my dad went down. I had to make the decision to either turn my phone off completely, which was difficult because I wanted to keep in touch with my dad and his attorneys, or change my number. So I changed my number, which was a big lifesaver when the
pictures of Knox and me went viral.
I turn off the ignition. “Mia is asleep,” I tell him. “If we wake her up, you’ll never get to bed because she’ll be asking you twenty-one questions.”
“So don’t say a word or trip into shit?”
“Exactly.”
I switch on a light when we make it inside and turn around to look at him. “Follow me,” I mouth, walking upstairs.
He takes a look around when I shut my bedroom door behind us. “You know I’ve never been inside here. I feel like you’ve seen every room in my home, but yours has been a big mystery to me. It’s nice seeing this side of your life.”
I sweep my arms out in a circle. “Take a look around. Textbooks and my laptop are pretty much my life right now.”
He rubs his forehead, laughing. “Oh sunshine, there’s more to you than textbooks.”
I start to respond when something hits me. “Shit,” I hiss. “We forgot your bag in the car.”
“We did. Is it okay if I borrow something of yours to sleep in?”
“Sure,” I answer, around a laugh. “I have some of the best lingerie that will fit you perfectly. What are you, a B cup?”
He thrusts his chest out. “How did you know?” I’m glad I’m taking his mind away from the house. “Although anything in those drawers probably look much better on you, so I’ll work with what I have.”
I can’t stop myself from licking my lips with excitement when he grabs the bottom of his t-shirt and drags it over his head. He’s more in shape than he was before, the muscles in his chest more prominent, and my hands are itching to see if his skin feels the same.
“You cool with me taking my jeans off?” he asks, breaking me away from my thoughts.
I shrug. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“I’m sure you’ve missed the view.”
“That’s definitely one thing I’ve missed.”
He raises a brow. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
I pull off the sweatshirt I had on over my pajama top and climb into bed. I look over at Knox while he steps out of his jeans. Exhaustion fills his face as he joins me and pulls the blankets over us.
He flips over to look at me. “Is it cool if we snuggle?”
I rest my head against the pillow. “You’re pushing the limits tonight, aren’t you?”
“It’ll make a man feel better when he’s down.”
I fake an annoyed laugh and turn around. “Fine,”
He moves in closer and throws his arm over me, making me feel more comfortable in my bed than I ever have, and the heat of his body relaxes me.
“Thank you, sunshine,” he whispers into my ear, tightening his hold, like he never wants to let me go.
47
Knox
I wake up to an empty bed, and I’d think last night was a dream if the sheets didn’t smell exactly like heaven. She still uses the same body lotion that reminds me of the pineapples and lavender.
I crawl out of bed to head to the bathroom, but stop myself and start getting dressed. I know she said Mia would be in freak out mode if she saw me, so I’m hoping she’s already left, because I have to piss like a racehorse.
I duck down the hallway, thankful it’s clear, and go into the bathroom. I walk down the stairs when I’m finished and find Libby in the kitchen.
“Morning sunshine,” I greet, moving into the room. She has a pan on the stove and is cracking an egg into it.
She gives me the world’s most gorgeous smile. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Perfect, actually. The best sleep I’ve had in weeks, but I was disappointed when I woke up to an empty bed.”
“All of my classes are at the butt-crack of dawn, so I can’t sleep in anymore, even on the weekends. My body won’t let me. It sucks, but I’m more productive now, so that’s a plus.”
“It’s the opposite for me. My days are short, my nights long.” I point to the stove. “Do you need any help?”
“Nope.” She nods towards the stool at the island. “You sit down right there.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
I do as I’m told.
“The tour seems to be doing well,” she goes on. “Thomas said it’s been nominated for numerous awards, and you’ve even added more shows.”
She’s trying to steer away from talking about Nate destroying my house. I appreciate it, because I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my own family deceived me.
“Revenue and review wise, it’s great, but it’s been one of the most emotional journeys I’ve ever been on,” I reply.
She scrunches her face up. “Why do you say that?”
I lean in, resting my elbows on the counter, and lock eyes with her. “You came into my life because of the tour, yet I lost you for the same reason. I’ve lost respect for the majority of the people in my family. I came home to a destroyed house. I honestly feel like there’s nothing for me to look forward to when it ends.”
Her eyes dart down to the pan, and she moves back and forth on her feet, looking uncomfortable. “Some of those are an easy fix.”
“The house, yes. The broken relationships and my guitar, not so much.”
“We can have the police put out a report to make sure no one tries to sell your guitar online or pawn it. I’ll search for it every day, checking eBay, Craigslist, everywhere I can. We’ll find it.”
She uses a spatula to swipe up the egg, drops it onto a plate, and then hands it to me.
“How do I deserve you?” I ask, sighing. “Even if we’re not together, how did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”
She pauses in the middle of cracking another egg and opens her mouth to respond … and then shuts it. Heat radiates in my chest as I keep my eyes on her face. It’s still there – her love for me, and I want to draw it all out of her so she can see it too.
“I think we’re lucky to have each other,” she whispers.
“Well isn’t this a surprise!” I turn around to find Mia strolling our way with a shit-eating grin on her face. An anguished groan comes from Libby. “I see someone snuck in sometime during the night.”
“It’s a long story that no one wants to talk about right now,” Libby immediately says, giving her friend a serious look. The girl always has my back.
I look back at Mia. “My cousin trashed my house and pretty much let everyone rob me. So I called Libby, and she offered to let me crash here. That okay with you?”
“Absolutely,” Mia answers, the grin still on her face. “Stay as long as you’d like. Make yourself at home.”
I shake my head. “I appreciate it, but I don’t want to be a burden. I’ll book a hotel for a few days until I can find something to rent temporarily. I’m selling that house. I don’t even want to set foot into it again.”
“You only have a few weeks left on tour, right?” Libby asks.
I nod. “Which means I need to buckle down and get my shit together.”
“I can help out, look for places, and email them to you so you can focus on your shows.”
“You would do that?”
She smiles. “Of course, it’s the least I can do for you paying my tuition.”
“My mom has this bomb real estate agent,” Mia says. “I’ll ask her if she has anything on the market you might like. I can also get her to list your house?”
I nod. “That sounds great.”
Mia walks over to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. “I’m headed to the beach to meet Dixon. He has a tournament today. You guys want to tag along?”
“Probably not,” Libby answers. “I have a feeling all eyes will be on Knox, and Dixon might not appreciate that.”
I nod in agreement. “Yeah, I think we’re good. I need to relax for a bit. Tell Dixon we said good luck.”
“I will,” Mia says, and then looks over at me. “Hopefully you’re still h
ere when I get back, if not, fingers crossed I’ll see you again soon.”
We’re relaxing on the couch post breakfast, and Libby is spread across the length of it, resting her feet on my lap, watching TV.
I love this – it feels like we’re back on the bus, having our Netflix binges, and being completely comfortable and happy around each other.
I grabbed my phone and powered it back on about ten minutes ago and am replying to all of the text messages from last night and this morning. I start to feel the frustration rising through me as I slam my fingers on the keyboard and decide to quit so I don’t ruin my time with her.
I release a heavy sigh, toss my phone on the coffee table, and rub the back of my neck, shaking my head. Libby raises a questioning brow when I look over at her. I can tell now she wasn’t watching TV – she was staring at me.
“Texts from my mom,” I explain. “She thinks I overreacted with the whole Nate situation.”
“Are you shitting me?” she shrieks, grimacing.
“I wish I were, but according to her, family shouldn’t turn their back on family.”
She straightens up against the pillow behind her. “That seriously pisses me off. If anything, she’s the one turning her back on you for not supporting your decision and letting people take advantage of her son. Did you tell her about the guitar?”
“Sure did. Her response was that it’s not like I can’t buy another one.”
“No disrespect, but fuck them.”
I crack a smile. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
“I’m incredible because I said fuck your family? I doubt those words have been described as amazing that often.”
“You’re amazing because you care about me and only me. You don’t give two shits about my money, my fame, or opportunities. Shit, you could’ve quit school and had me take care of you, but you wanted to do it on your own. You want to be independent, and that’s incredible. It makes me happy. It lets me know I can trust you.”
She slips me a shy smile. “I’m glad to make you happy. You can always trust me. Don’t ever forget that.” She grabs her coffee mug, brings it to her lips, and lightly blows on it.
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