I pull into Clarke’s parking and see Knox’s headlights waiting for me. I rush to his car and jump in, barely closing the door before he’s speeding home.
We’re both quiet on the drive over. Knox continues to torment his hair with his hand, which is now a mess of wild waves. By the time we make it to his house, I’m deflated and exhausted. Maybe I should’ve pushed through the photographers and gone home.
I follow Knox into his house, thankful he has a garage we can hide in, the silence making my skin crawl. He drops on the couch, his expression stone. I stand, unsure of my place.
“Today has been hell,” he finally speaks.
“Tell me about it.” I look at him from the entrance of the living room.
His arms lift, reaching out to me, so I go to him. He pulls me onto his lap. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve my crappy attitude and anger. I screwed up earlier, and I haven’t let that go. Then, Old McFord talks shit, and the paparazzi find your apartment, and it’s all a fuckin’ mess. I moved here to avoid all of this.” His head drops back on the couch, his pained expression tearing my heart apart.
“Hey.” I wait for him to look at me. “I admit that it hurt to hear you say that you wouldn’t have pursued me had you known this would happen. I wish I can be someone worth fighting for,” I look away.
“Ainsley, you are. Don’t you see that? What I said, it came out all wrong.” He shakes his head. “What I meant was that I didn’t want to put you in this position where you’re now getting hauled by people. Trust me, I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you. You’ve captivated me. Hell, I started writing music because of you. You inspire me, and that’s something I’ll never regret.
“You’re the only woman I want in my life, and someone worth every single fight. Harris suggested keeping our relationship hidden for a while, same as you did, and I told him that wasn’t an option. I’m proud to have you by my side.” He cups my face, his thumbs moving back and forth across my cheeks. “You’re the woman I want in my life, day in and day out,” he repeats. “I’ll fight whoever I need to in order to keep you safe and by my side. I’m sorry I fucked up.”
I nod. “I guess I took it to heart. I should know how you feel about me without you having to say it, but I also compare myself to the other women you’ve had in your life—”
He interrupts me. “They don’t compare to you. You’re funny, genuine, beautiful, and have a heart of gold. Don’t compare yourself, because you’re cutting yourself short with the way I see you.” He tilts my head down and kisses my forehead. “Promise you believe me.”
“I do, but that doesn’t change the fact that your life could be easier without me in it.”
“No.” He shakes his head fiercely. “If it’s not you, it’ll be something else they spin. Believe me.”
“So what do we do?” I ask.
“Let me think, but for now, you’ll stay here. We’ll grab some clothes and whatever else you need tomorrow.” He slowly starts to relax, and I place my head on his shoulder. Knox holds me as my eyes grow heavy, keeping me safe despite his guilt swallowing him up.
Knox
These last few days have been hell. Between the photographers spread out in this town and my relationship with Ainsley in turmoil, I want to send everyone to hell and sneak away with her. To make matters worse, we’re at my parents’ house for Christmas Eve dinner, and they keep asking us how we’re doing. I’m glad it’s only us five tonight and not my extended family adding to the interrogation.
Ainsley pretends she’s okay with it all, but I notice her faraway look when she thinks she’s alone.
I hate that it’s because of me that she’s experiencing this. The only upside is that the locals have calmed down. I’m sure watching me hit McFord put things into perspective. I won’t let anyone hurt Ainsley. As for me, the media caught wind of my “bar fight” and added to the story, saying I have a dangerous jealous streak and Ainsley’s with me for fear that I’ll hit her. The ridiculousness of it all almost makes me laugh. Almost. If it weren’t my life they’re ruining.
“Are you ready for your performance on New Year’s Eve?” my mom asks.
“Yeah.”
“Are you going with him?” She looks at Ainsley.
“Um…” Her round eyes sweep up to me. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Yes, she is,” I answer my mom and raise my eyebrows at Ainsley.
“I need to make sure work will give me the night and the next day off. It’s a busy time,” she explains, but I know she’s stalling. She was going to ask Adam for the days off a week ago.
“I hope they do. It’s amazing to watch him perform live,” my mom adds as if I weren’t sitting at the table with them. It’s clear she senses the tension between us. Anyone within a fifty-mile radius of us could feel the tension.
With all of this, my probability of going back to a music career is diminishing. It’s a reminder of why I decided to take a step back.
“Who’s ready for dessert?” My mom continues to bring some normalcy to our dinner.
“Me,” my dad smiles at her.
“I’ll help you clean up,” Ainsley offers, grabbing my empty plate with hers. I smile up at her, desperate to fix this.
“Thank you.” My mom takes her up on her offer.
“Dude, what the hell?” Axel blows out air and grips the back of his neck.
I shake my head, rubbing my eyes.
I feel my dad clasp my shoulder, and I turn my head to him. “Every couple goes through some hardships. It’s whether or not you’re willing to fight for each other that will make you or break you.” He squeezes my shoulder. I nod, appreciative of his encouragement, but still feeling like shit.
“She could be living a peaceful life like she was before I showed up, no one harassing her.”
“Well, son, if you ask me, I’d tell you that woman in the kitchen with your momma loves you, so I doubt she’d agree with you.” My dad nods as if he’s certain of his observation.
I raise my eyebrows, and he laughs. “Don’t look at me that way. I know when a woman loves a man, and Ainsley is in love with you. Give her time to catch up, she may not know it yet.”
I remain silent and look at Axel, who’s leaning back in his seat with a cocky smile.
“Okay, we have apple pie and pumpkin pie,” my mom interrupts us as she walks back into the dining room with Ainsley following closely behind her.
“I know pumpkin pie is supposed to be a Thanksgiving dessert and all that, but I love it and only eat it this time of year, so I made it again. Hope that’s okay.” I bite down my smile as she rambles on and on, reminding me of that day in the coffee shop.
“We love pumpkin pie, don’t we?” My dad looks at the two of us.
“Hell yes.” Axel grins.
“Yup, especially yours,” I say and reach for her hand under the table once she’s back at her seat. I lace our fingers together, keeping some part of her in my hold, needing to feel her. She looks at me with a soft smile, and if I’m not mistaken, water in her eyes. I lift our hands and kiss her knuckles, not caring that we have an audience. Her chest drops with a sigh, and for the first time in a few days, she relaxes.
This has been hard on us both, and I haven’t taken the time to really see her, feel her while I’ve tried to figure out how to deal with the disaster of the media. I vow to make sure she’s truly doing okay once we leave here, talk to her, and see what’s going on in her mind. We’re in this together, and we’ve been dealing with it separately. If we want our relationship to work, we need to communicate.
“We’ll see you tomorrow for lunch and gifts.” My mom walks us to the door.
“Thank you for having me again,” Ainsley says, hugging my mom.
“Nonsense. There’s no way you were going to stay home. Besides, you’re part of the family now.” My mom gives me a pointed look with a smile. I don’t know if to thank her or expect a lecture the next time we’re alone.
“Thanks, Mom.” I kiss her
cheek and guide Ainsley to the car, opening her door.
I hold her hand once I’m in the driver’s seat and drive back to my place. I’m silent on the trip back, trying to organize my thoughts so we could talk, and hope to fix this. I miss our easy relationship, and right now, things are complicated. Between photographers stalking both of us, showing up at her apartment and job, and the mean rumors continuing to grow in the entertainment business, we’ve lost the spark in our relationship.
I park the truck in my driveway, and Ainsley is out of her seat before I can make my way to open her door. I sigh and reach for her hand, gripping it.
“Let’s talk,” I say as I unlock the front door.
We make our way to the living room, and I sit on the couch next to her. When I turn to face her, I notice unshed tears in her eyes and pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her slender body. Feeling her rapidly beating heart breaks my heart.
“What’s going on?” I lean back a bit to look into her eyes, silent trails of tears on her face. My thumb does quick work of drying them.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, her teeth gnawing her bottom lip.
“I need you to talk to me.”
She shakes her head, looking away from me.
“Ainsley, please,” I beg, feeling helpless.
“This is so hard,” her words come out tangled. “I just… I’m trying to be strong, ignore everyone following me around, the lies they’re printing. I want to be with you…” her voice trails.
I lock my jaw, my chest heaving. I refuse to let this career take her away from me. It already stole too much from me, but I won’t let her be one of them. I rub my eyes and let my hand slide down my face in exasperation, tugging my beard.
“What do you want?”
She leans back, flinching at my tone. My words come out harsh, but I don’t mean to direct my anger at her. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, but I hate that my past is ruining this. I hate that once again, my career choice is taking away what I want most in life.”
“I thought by now they’d realize there’s no real story and would leave town,” she says.
“I was hoping the same thing,” I admit. “I’ll talk to Harris again and see what we can do. Unfortunately, we can’t really press charges if they don’t touch us or cause any threats.”
“They’re invading our lives,” her voice rises.
“I know. Trust me, I’ve lived with this for years.” I tear my hair from the roots with the force of my hand.
“I go into work, and a photographer is waiting for me at the bar, Knox.”
“What do you want?” I ask her again. “I’ll give you whatever you want, even if it means letting you go.” I don’t want to cause her any more hurt, and seeing the pain in her face is breaking me. I can’t protect her like I wish I could. We don’t live in a snow-filled bubble, no matter how much it felt that way when we first started dating. As it is, it’s only been two months and look at all the damage I’ve brought into her life.
Ainsley shakes her head. “I don’t want that. Do you?” Her eyebrows furrow, her mouth frowning, her eyes filling with tears again.
“Of course not, but I don’t know how to keep you away from this.”
“You can’t,” she says with resignation. “Even if we broke up, people will want to know what happened.” She deflates, melting into the cushion.
“I just want you to be happy again.” I’ve stolen her joy and replaced it with worry and fear. She silently nods. “We need to talk if we want to overcome this,” I add.
“I know. It’s Christmas, though. Can we forget about it for tonight?”
I nod, although I disagree. Pretending this isn’t real, even for a night, isn’t the solution.
“I have your gift,” she whispers. “How about I give it to you tonight, seeing it’s technically Christmas day.”
“Okay.” I humor her because she deserves to be put first.
I watch Ainsley stand and walk to the Christmas tree we both decorated, picking up the long box I’ve been curious about. It’s too light and narrow to be a new guitar, I snuck in one afternoon and held it to try to guess what’s in it.
“Here.” Her smile reappears, and she sits next to me. “I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will.” I tear the gold paper and lift the lid of the box. I run my fingers over the soft leather.
“Wow,” I whisper, picking up the guitar strap and smiling genuinely for the first time in days. The strap has the phrase, You’re the chili to my Frito pie, engraved on it.
I chuckle, meeting her eyes. “I don’t like it, I love it. Thanks, babe,” I lean forward to kiss her.
“I’m so glad you do.” Her eyes light up, a semblance of the real Ainsley peeking through.
A different sensation fills me as I watch her pride and look back at the gift she got for me, meaningful on so many levels. She’s the reason I picked up my guitar again in months, the reason I’m smiling and living. I’m falling in love with her, and I’m afraid I’ll lose her.
I stand and grab the small box under the tree, sitting next to her before I place her gift on her lap. “Open it.”
She looks up at me from beneath her lashes, a small smile forming on her lips. She rips the Christmas trees printed wrapping, not as gentle as I was, and I have to laugh at her enthusiasm. When her fingers open up the box, she gasps.
“This is beautiful.” She stares at the gold snowflake necklace. Her finger runs over the small diamond in the center.
“You’re like a snowflake—perfect, full of magic, and unique. That first snowball fight, where you didn’t take pity on me or feed into my bullshit, you were simply yourself, that’s when I knew you were special. I realized then that although my life was a mess, I wanted to get to know you. I wanted more than run-ins in random places. I wanted to be as brave as you are, and you inspired me to take my life back in my own hands, without knowing you did.” I hold her gaze as I speak, confessing the moment I wanted Ainsley in my life.
“I love it.” She leaps forward and hugs me. Maybe she was onto something when she asked to exchange gifts tonight. I hold her to me, exhaling the tension. Her lips touch my cheek, and I tighten my arms around her.
“Thank you,” she whispers into my ear, my skin shivering. I keep her close to me, breathing in her sweet scent as I pray we can work through this bump before it does more damage than we can repair.
Knox
I pull the heavy door at Clarke’s entrance, my body feeling like lead. I blink slowly, pushing my hair back and covering my face when I notice a man pointing his camera at me. Why the hell hasn’t Adam kicked these people out yet?
I sit at the bar, looking around for Ainsley. I didn’t want her to go home alone before coming into work, but she insisted on grabbing a few more things from her place and assured me she’d be okay.
I couldn’t fight her. Christmas was better, but we’re still not one-hundred-percent. I feel like any wrong comment will push her further away. I’m tired. Tired of losing my life to my name, my persona.
Not seeing Ainsley, I wave Adam down. “What can I get you?”
“Where’s Ainsley?” My eyebrows lift. He looks at me as if I’m crazy, eyebrows bunched together and mouth set in a straight line.
“She didn’t tell you?” He throws the rag in his hand over his shoulder and crosses his arms.
“Tell me what?” I demand.
“She was let go.”
“What? When?” I slam my hand on the bar.
“About an hour ago.” He blows out a deep breath.
“What the fuck?” I growl. “Why?”
“Something about the paparazzi interfering with our place of business.” He keeps it brief but makes sure I know her lack of a job is my fault. I shake my head and stand, pushing the stool so far back it almost hits someone. I stalk out of the bar and jump in my truck. If one of these photographers gets in my way, I’m running them over. I’m fucking over them being here.
I g
o straight to her apartment and bang on her door.
“What?” Her shoulders slump when she opens the door with bloodshot eyes.
“Ainsley,” I draw out and hug her. She fights me, pushing my chest back. “Why didn’t you call me right away?” It hurts that she came home and didn’t reach out to me, knowing I was going to see her.
She shakes her head and turns, walking further into her house. I lock the door and follow her into the living room.
“I didn’t want to add more to your plate. I knew you’d take this on and blame yourself,” her voice is flat, her body slumped in defeat.
“It is my fault,” I grit my teeth.
“No,” she shakes her head. “It just sucks because I really liked that job. I guess I couldn’t be a bartender my entire life,” she says to herself.
I reach for her hand, and she lets me hold it despite her shoulders tensing. “I don’t know how to fix this. I’ve tried talking to them, posting on social media, this is what they live off of. Unfortunately, this brings them joy, and they’re selfish to not care about the consequences in our lives.”
She swipes her hands over her cheeks, and it kills me to know she’s experiencing this because she’s in a relationship with me. I can’t shake the guilt.
“I’m gonna stay here tonight,” she says, her teeth torturing her lips.
“Are you sure?” I tilt my head and squint my eyes.
“Yeah. I think it’s for the best. Just a few days, I need to clear my head.” I won’t lie and say that doesn’t hurt, but she has no right to put up with my shit.
“You’ll call me?” I stare into her eyes, the red around them clouding the brightness in her baby blues.
“Yeah,” she nods.
“And New Year’s?” I risk asking.
“I think you should go alone, it’s for the best. We don’t need to draw more attention to ourselves, and maybe we need a few days apart to think things through.”
“I don’t need to think anything through when it comes to us. I want you, plain and simple,” I fight against her words.
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