Knox

“No matter how many times I’ve performed here, I fall in love with this stadium every single time,” I say, turning around to look at Libby and walking backward. “The first time was when I was fourteen. Thomas somehow convinced a singer to let me open up for her. Playing in front of thousands of people was way different than doing it on the streets. I was so nervous that I pissed myself.”

“You’re lying,” Libby says, laughing.

She walked in a few minutes ago, but I’ve been here for hours rehearsing for my opening show at the Staples Center tomorrow night. I want to start out with a bang and everything to be perfect.

“I’m being completely honest. Good thing I did it before I got on stage and Thomas was smart enough to make sure I had backup clothes. Pissing yourself at fourteen is embarrassing enough, but pissing yourself in front of thousands of people would’ve been mortifying. I would’ve quit right then, moved to a different country, and started to raise sheep or some shit.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I bet the girls would still love you, piss pants and all.” She snaps her fingers. “Those pants would probably sell for thousands on eBay, so if you have them laying around anywhere, I’d be more than happy to take them off your hands.”

“Oh Libs, I knew you secretly wanted to get your hands in my pants.”

“Or I want to make money off them.”

I point down to my dick. “You can take these and sell them … if you unbuckle them with your teeth.”

“Is it okay if I bite?”

“That’s not nice.” I shake my head, chuckling, and then turn back around so she can follow me. I gesture towards the buffet table loaded with food that’s set up in the back room. “I had breakfast catered in for everyone. Help yourself.”

“Thanks. I’m starving.”

We load our plates with waffles and bacon and sit down at a table in the middle of the room.

“So do you have a doctor’s note?”

“Nope, and you’re not getting one,” she says, stabbing into her waffle with a fork. “And thanks for letting me leave early.”

I tear into my bacon, savoring the taste, because I know my trainer is going to be watching everything I eat while I’m on the road. “Guess what time it is?”

“What?”

“Secret of the day,” I sing out.

She groans. “I told you we aren’t playing that stupid game.”

“Yes, we are.”

“I hate the idea.”

“And I love it.”

“Fine,” she groans. “But you’re going first.”

I lower my voice to tell her something I haven’t shared with anyone. “I’m terrified of fucking this tour up. All eyes are on me, and I’ve never had this much pressure in my life. I feel like this is going to mend or break my career. One or the other, there’s no in-between.”

An unexpected amount of tension falls from me.

Damn, it feels good getting that out.

She takes a long chug of her orange juice and swallows it down with a sigh. She’s shocked by my honesty. “I visited my dad in prison yesterday. That’s why I needed to leave early.”

I know telling me this is a big deal to her, and I’m surprised Thomas didn’t spill the beans about her dad being in prison.

“Damn babe, that sucks. I wish you’d told me that. I wouldn’t have given you such a hard time. I feel like a jackass now.”

“Don’t. You let me go, didn’t you? That’s all that matters. You would’ve been a jackass if you refused to let me leave.”

I lean back in my chair, stretching my legs out. I love that she’s opening up to me. “What’s he in for?” I know I’m technically asking for another secret, and she may not answer it considering how guarded she is, but it’s worth a try.

“You really don’t know?”

“I told you I stay far, far away from the tabloids.”

“Tax fraud.” She pauses. “He’s in prison for tax fraud.”

“Not fun.” If there’s one thing my accountant has always stressed to me, it’s don’t fuck with the IRS. I pay millions in taxes every year, but I don’t mind. Taxes and the welfare system once fed me and put a roof over my head. “Is that why Thomas is always throwing out the fact that you need money?”

“Yes. The IRS liquidated everything. His three homes, including my condo in the hills, our cars, and froze our bank accounts. They wanted their money and didn’t give a shit about how we were going to pay for our next meal. My dad took a plea to spend eight months in prison, and thankfully Mia let me move in with her.”

“Wow, thank you for telling me that. I’ve always wondered why Thomas keeps throwing out that you need money. It’s not cool he does that.”

“I’ve known Thomas my entire life. He’s not saying it to be rude. He gave me this job as a favor, and he knows my degree is one of the most important things to me.”

I nod. “I get it, but I think they took your car for the sake of public safety.”

She narrows her eyes my way but cracks a smile. “For someone who complains about my driving so much, you sure want to ride with me all the time.”

“I told you. I hate your driving, but love your company.” I shrug. “Plus, I can do business in the car when you’re driving. If you need any more days off to visit him, let me know and I’ll make sure you’re open.”

She nods, although I’m not sure if she actually will. She gets up, grabs our plates, and starts heading towards the trash.

It makes me feel good she’s opening up to me, but I’m not sure why I want in so bad.