Page 144 of These Wicked Hearts

“Yeah, no shit.” He rolls his eyes. “Pfft. See how cool I am?”

“And Gage is Death.” His eyes narrow. “You know, lead singer of Riot Heart.” His mouth slowly falls open. “And I’m not sure why, but he invited me to this party, and I’m going to go because he broke my fucking heart last time we were together and I want to know why?” And I’m not sure, but I’m assuming this is the answer.

“Bullshit,” he scoffs. “Anyway, what’s really going on?”

“Knox, that’s it. Gage is Death. Riot Heart is his band.” And he’s beautiful, and has an attitude, but he’s so sweet, and I know deep down he wants someone to love him, and I’m hoping it might still be me. Even if he hurt me.

“No. No. No way. No.” He shakes his head. “No, there’s—” I wait for it to sink in. Knox shakes his head. “You were sleeping with a god and didn’t tell me?”

“He’s not a god, he’s a man.”

“No, see, this is, no. What?! Their music, they’re like, deities. They are⁠—”

“Just people. Like you and me. Just people. Gage is just a person.” A sad person with a lot more baggage than he lets me know.

“I can’t believe this. I can’t—oh my god, you are sleeping with my idol.”

“Idol? Really? At the age of thirty-nine?”

“Oh, fuck you, I’m thirty-one, you prick.”

“Sorry, you move like you’re close to retirement.”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, you’re just mean.”

I drop down beside him. “I’m sorry, okay. I couldn’t tell you.”

“Then why tell me now?”

I look down at the invitation in my hands. “I don’t know, but I think he doesn’t care anymore. Or maybe I’m tired of hiding it, I don’t know. I know you won’t say anything.”

“I’ve idolized that man for years and then I find out you’re fucking him.” He shakes his head.

“Actually, he’s fucking me, but yeah.”

Knox looks at me, shaking his head. “I bet it was incredible. He’s like a magician the way he puts song lyrics together. I can’t imagine how creative he must be in bed.”

Oh, pretty creative.

“He didn’t want anyone to know.”

Knox is quiet.

“Are you really mad at me?”

Knox takes a breath, and shit, I think he’s actually upset. “Not about that.”

“Then what could you possibly be upset with me about?”

“I’ve been trying all season to be your friend.” He swallows. “I’ve been trying, and I mean, you’re off with Rome of all people. Why don’t you lean on me a little? I didn’t know about the things you were going through, about you being sober. I want to help you. I want you to be my friend. Am I just not someone you want that with or what? Is it me? Honestly. Tell me.”

I don’t know where the hell this is coming from, but then I think back. Since last season Knox has been there for me. We roomed together at Oli and Andre’s wedding. He listened to me when I was drunk, took care of me, and when I kissed Grey, he was there to talk me through the spiral I was going into. He’s the reason I got my apartment, and he always offers to go out and take me places if I need.

This entire time I’ve been upset because I miss the family vibe of the Otters without realizing I can have that here too. Knox is right. I’ve been a shitty friend.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I think sometimes my brain makes me believe I’ll burden people. You’ve got your own shit going on and a team to maintain. You don’t need my shit on top of it. I wasn’t trying to avoid you. I promise.”

He nods. “Can I ask about it? Not, like, because he’s famous, but you don’t seem happy right now. Did something happen?”