Surrounded By Knight

by A. N. Hennessy

  Even after her giving herself to me Christmas Eve night and a few other times since, nothing had been said to make us official, to make her mine. I wanted to shout from the top of my lungs at every concert we played that Isabel Morgan, aka Country, was mine, and any motherfucker who touched her was as good as dead. But I held it in, not wanting to sound too psychotic to our fans. I also didn’t know how well Country would take to that rant, and I was scared to death that she was going be upset when she heard about my radio interview I did yesterday in Nevada. They’d asked questions and I told the God’s honest truth.

  “So, Trevelin, we’ve all heard the rumors, and I think the one question that everyone is dying to know is; does Trevelin Knight have a girlfriend?” the disc jockey had asked, eyeing me suspiciously. He didn’t need to, because it was a question I was willing to vaguely answer.

  “I have a special girl in my life...yes.” I’d witnessed Bryson shaking his head while Reed and Jace simply sat, acting like the normal idiots they were.

  Everyone in the sound booth gaped at me. “Care to share her name?” He’d pushed, leaning closer into the mic.

  “Isabel Morgan,” I’d replied happily with ease. “She’s pretty fucking amazing. The realist, sweetest girl I have ever come across.”

  The selfish ass in me didn’t care if the release of this information would upset her or not. I wanted everyone to know that I had someone, even though I didn’t have her the way I really wanted her. I was sick of all the women groping me backstage and trying to get me to fuck them. I wanted no one or anything else besides Country. She had my heart and was holding it fucking prisoner.

  I’d been eagerly waiting to see if she would call. I knew she had to hear about the radio interview by now, and I was unsure as to how she felt or if I even wanted to know. Her freaking on me for calling her out by name was a strong possibility. I knew she got uneasy when it came to my female fans, but she had nothing to worry about. They’re not her. And once they realized how much she actually meant to me they’d adore her as much as I did.

  Zeppelin noisily chewing on one of his toys brought me out of my reminiscing at the same time my phone started ringing in my hand. I didn’t even look before I answered. It had to be Country. I’d been wishing for her to call too hard for it not to be.

  “Hey, babe, L.A. still treatin’ you right? Or do I need to come kick some ass?”

  “Well, hello to you too, Trev. And seeing as how I’m not in L.A., I wouldn’t know.” The tight, child-like voice wasn’t Country’s. It was a female voice I hadn’t heard in months.

  “Meika? What are you doing calling me?” I couldn’t fake my astonishment hearing from her.

  “I missed hearing your sexy voice, silly. Is it so wrong for longtime friends to check in on one another? Because you clearly seem to be too busy to call me.” She lightly giggled.

  I got up, leaving Zeppelin to demolish the rest of his toy. Poor hippo didn’t stand a chance.

  Walking into the small space I called my room, I shut the door to drown out Reed and Jace shouting at each other over the stupid game they’re playing.

  “I have been. Sold out shows are crazy,” I answered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “It doesn’t help when the man behind the sold out shows is just as crazy.”

  “There’s not much craziness left in me these days.”

  “Is that so? Does a certain Okie girl happen to have the glory of being the one that’s taming what once was my raging Knight Raider?” The seductive, lust-filled tone was clear to my ears, and for the first time ever it actually made me cringe.

  “I was never your Knight Raider, Meika. We were simply two kids growing up in bad situations that confided in one another so we felt like we had someone. I got you away from the slums as promised and I even managed to help you build your career. Other than that, there’s nothing.”

  I had a feeling of what she was working her way toward, because she’d tried convincing me once before. That we were made for each other—kindred spirits she had called us. And boy was she way off kilter. I’d never felt that way for her, and even though we have fucked around more times than I could possibly count and she knew how to rock a dick, it didn’t mean I was her anything.

  “So you’ve said, Trev. I don’t know why because you know we’re alike. But whatever, I’ve got tons of willing guys to choose from anyways.”

  “Good for you, Meika. Fuck the hell out of one of them.”

  “What if I’m craving a little Knightly action? I haven’t got to taste you in what seems like forever.” She sounded like she was pouting.

  “Go find someone else to give it to you. I’m out, Meika.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean, Trevelin? And what the hell happened with me being the model in the Love Potion video?” The pouting was gone and the sulky, angered Meika was starting to rear her head.

  “There was a change of plans with the video and it turned out awesome. As for us, there will be no more random get-togethers for an all-night fuck fest. I’m not that guy anymore...”

  “What?” she shrieked through the phone. “We have been together since we were teenagers, Trevelin! You can’t just ditch that. This is all because of that hillbilly girl that you’ve been spending all your time with, isn’t it?”

  “You and I have never been together other than fucking. Fuck buddies is all we were. That’s it. As for Coun—Izzy, she is no hillbilly. She is an amazing country singer that deserves where she is heading. If that’s all you wanted then I gotta go.” My irritation was rising. Anything about Country was none of her fucking business.

  “I know she’s been touring with you. That you spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with her, and I also know she took my fucking place in the video. I’ve seen the damn thing, Trevelin. So what...is she your new fuck buddy now?” she said, full of disdain.

  Meika had never pissed me off. We had been around each other since we were kids, but we had only ever been friends that helped relieve a little built up frustration every now and then. But right now my frustration was flying off the damn charts, and it was all because of what she referred to Country as.

  The crushing grip I held on my phone was the only thing easing my building temper. “She’s not a fuck buddy!” I barked loudly through the speaker.

  “I take it you fuck though.”

  “What Izzy and I do is none of your goddamn concern. Unless you need something, Meika, and it better be real fucking important, don’t call this number again.” With that said I hung up and threw my phone across the small space of the room. I couldn’t believe Meika just acted like a straight out bitch. I heaved my body back, landing in the middle of the bed.

  I stayed there for some time thinking about everything that had happened. I never expected to be overtaken by Izzy. Normally hearing Meika’s voice would have caused a full on, rock-hard boner in my pants, but not this time. It felt weird hearing from her, considering Country was all I could think about. Pre-Country, when Meika would call, I would have had her on the next flight to me so we could partake in an all-out fuck-fest, all night long.

  The thought of that now made me sick to my stomach. Christ, I was a sick fuck. Still feeling frustrated with myself, I started rubbing my face with both hands, hoping I could wipe off some of the tension that was still there.

  “Hey, Schnookums? That fucking fur bag of yours is pissing everywhere,” Reed announced first thing after bursting through the door. The idiot didn’t know how to knock. I’d forgotten about the puppy. I pulled up into a seated position to go clean Zeppelin’s mess. Reed glanced over to see my smashed phone lying on the floor in the corner. Pointing to it, he asked, “Was that Kitten?”

  “Meika.”

  His brows flew up his forehead. “Meika? Did you, uh...did you put her on a plane?” Reed looked at me cautiously, voice flat. He knew how it was with Meika. He knew we fucked like rabbits whenever she was around.

  “No, I told her not to call me anymore unless it was i
mportant.” I rubbed at my face again. I could feel my insides clenching and turning. Isabel Morgan had changed me. She was morphing my insides into all the things she wanted and needed, making me the man I wanted to be in return...for her. “Just hearing her voice made me feel nasty,” I admitted to him.

  There were not many times when Reed was quiet, and now was one of those times. He stared at me with an odd expression. “So you’re serious with Kitten then, huh?”

  With lips pressed firm and images of Country floating through my head, I nodded my answer.

  “Well, good luck with that, bro.” He smacked me on the shoulder. “But in the mean time you got a fucking mess. My guess is you’ll feel even nastier after you deal with that fur bag’s shit.”

  “His name’s Zeppelin.”

  “What the fuck ever.”

  ♪♫♪♫♪♫

  I didn’t talk to Country all day yesterday. One, I had demolished my phone when I smashed it against the wall and had to buy a new one; two, after being on the phone with Meika, I just couldn’t bring myself to call her. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to hear her sweet voice, but more of the unrelenting guilt I felt. I didn’t really have a reason to feel guilty, but I did. Izzy and I weren’t in a relationship, and even if we were, Meika was my past. Way before I met Country. Still, it didn’t relieve the wrong, regret or shame that was piling on my conscience like a heavy film of algae.

  Being with Country had made me see and view things entirely differently. If not for her, I would still be slinging my dick around to every female invite. Hell, I didn’t even need an invite. My celeb status granted me VIP access. The thing that had me terrified the most was that Izzy wouldn’t want me the same way I wanted her, and that was something I didn’t know if I could handle. I would be a wreck, and I would be worried my old habits would come back with a vengeance.

  The Knight Raiders just finished our Vegas show. The crowd was crazier than usual, and we had a meet-and-greet scheduled backstage before we were done and set to head for L.A. for our last concert of the tour.

  As I walked out of my dressing room to head where the meet-and-greet was being held, I passed Ryker. He gave me the cockiest look, a look he had been giving me a lot lately. I swear I would love to knock his brain out one of his fucking ears.

  Walking further down the corridor, I heard him yell to Gage, “Hurry up, dude. We got to get to L.A. Izzy and I have plans.”

  I stopped instantly, seething to the extent my skin crawled. My jaw muscles grinding to the point where they burned. My arms and balled up fists had gone numb. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until the sound of my phone ringing broke me from my murderous trance that had me stalking to that fucktard so I could knock him the hell out. Hearing him say her name was enough to make me want to shove my fist through the back of his big ass head.

  “What?” I snapped as I answered it, pissed that whoever it was just stopped me from breaking Ryker Steele’s fucking face.

  “Hollywood? You okay?”

  Oh shit.

  “Yeah. Sorry, babe, I didn’t know it was you.” Your voice is always heaven to my ears, and it would be fan-fucking-tastic if I were there with you. Why couldn’t I just say it?

  “I wanted to see how the show went? You didn’t call me last night, and I missed hearing you tell me to dream about you. It’s all your fault that I dreamt about Channing Tatum and his dance moves instead.” She giggled faintly, leaving me to believe she was covering her mouth, hoping I didn’t hear her.

  I felt shitty for not calling her last night. I had made it my nightly ritual to either call her or text her to tell her good night and to dream about me. “I am so sorry, Country. I was...I was exhausted and fell asleep early.” I now felt like a bigger piece of shit for lying. I had to make her laugh, hopefully that would make me feel better. “And Channing doesn’t have shit on my skills, babe.”

  She laughed, and I sighed at the beautiful sound. “His dancing skills or stripper skills?”

  “Both.”

  She laughed again and it made me smile. I loved hearing her laugh as much as I loved hearing her sing. “I seriously doubt that.”

  “It’s true. I’m the shit at everything I do.”

  “How vain of you.”

  “You mean how true,” I teased back. I could almost feel her huge smile through the phone. “You need to take a picture of you smiling like that and send it to me. I need something beautiful to look at.”

  She went silent for a second before asking, “How did you know I was smiling?”

  “I know a lot of things about you. What can I say, you intrigue me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, there are quite a few, but I’ll start with when you talk about, or hear someone talk about something you find uncomfortable, you gnaw viciously on your bottom lip. Or when you’re excited or nervous, you twirl your hair around your fingers, or how you put so much damn sugar in your coffee and you drink less than half of it every time. Or how you pick at your nails when you’re bored and when you smile real big you have a dimple that forms by your chin. Do you want me to continue?”

  “No,” she whispered, sighing heavily.

  “I pay attention. I didn’t mean to creep you out or nothing.” I suddenly felt the need to try to come up with a cover story, something to save my ass from my weirdness I just confessed to her.

  “It didn’t creep me out. I think it’s sweet. I just didn’t know you knew all that stuff about me. I don’t think I knew all that stuff about me.”

  I figured she didn’t. I’d been unable to keep myself from becoming engrossed with everything she did. That included her spending time with Ryker. “Hey, I want to ask you something.”

  “Sure, what is it?”

  “What are you doing with Ryker?” My voice sounded accusing even though I didn’t mean for it to, just like I didn’t mean for my teeth to clench when I said the ass-faces name either, but they did. I hated any thought of her being around him. I wanted all of her time. Every fucking second of it.

  “I’m unaware that I was. Why?” Was she trying to brush off my question?

  “I heard him tell Gage they needed to hurry up, that you and him have plans.”

  “I don’t know what he’s talking about.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Ryker must have been trying to fuck with me. “Trevelin...we need to talk. I need you to know that, well, I—”

  Her talking was inexplicably interrupted by the loud sound of women screaming and Bryson yelling down the hall at me. “Trev, come on, man! We have a shit ton of fans waiting to meet the Trevelin Knight. It’s getting crazy in there man. What the hell are you doing?” His eyes widened knowingly when he noticed the phone glued to my ear.

  “Trevelin? Did you hear any of that?”

  “Sorry, Country, but I gotta go. I’ll call you back when I get on the bus.”

  “Yeah...sure,” she mumbled. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” She hung up, not giving me a chance to tell her bye. I stared at the phone in my hand in astonishment.

  Was she mad?

  She sounded mad.

  I’d be with her tomorrow though, and I would make it up to her. Valentine’s Day was the day after tomorrow, and I planned on making it one she’d never forget.

  I entered the meet-and-greet area to be attacked with loud screams...girls everywhere, yelling and shouting my name. I looked around, taking in the sight, noting the ones wearing Knight Raiders t-shirts, and there were even some that had made their own.

  Some said I need Reed or I ♥ Cox. Others said Seven Minutes in Heaven with Trevelin, but the one that used to make me laugh the most but now did nothing to me, was the ones that said Insert Knight Raider here with an arrow proudly pointing to their pussy.

  Big Mac and Double-D helped me and Bryson through the crowd of frantic fans to the table. I sat, mindlessly signing autographs and taking pictures with our devoted fans while my thoughts were all the way in L.A.

  Chapter Seventeen

 
; Izzy

  “Izzy, you off the phone yet? The movie’s starting.”

  I walked lifelessly back into the massive room with enormous windows and a flat screen television so big I wondered how the wall was holding it up. Staring down at my phone, I inhaled deeply before I switched it off and tossed it onto the table.

  “What are we watching?” I tried to sound cheerful and interested.

  “I was craving a little Paul Walker and Vin Diesel action. God, I could rub that bald head until it shined like Mr. Clean. Vin is too damn hot.”

  I faked a smile, plopped down beside her, not even able to feign a laugh. I had no emotion but hurt thriving in my body. I sat there on the phone, pouring my guts out to him, and he didn’t even hear me. Nope. Instead, he said he’d call me later.

  Fat chance on that being successful with my phone off.

  I had kept my mouth shut the last few weeks, pretending like our sexual encounters had never happened, but it was hard to continue to pretend when he called me every day, texted all the time, and told me to dream about him every freaking night.

  And I did.

  There’s no stopping the inevitable, and since our passionate night at the pond along with our other magical rendezvous, the dreams had only intensified.

  Now I craved him.

  I craved to see his obnoxiously handsome face. To look at his hideously chiseled body. To run my fingers through that messy dirty blond hair, and to stare into those unreal eyes as I traced all his perfectly placed tattoos.

  I craved it all.

  His spicy fresh scent, his cocky smile, those full pink lips that knew how to drive a girl crazy and the scruffiness of a day’s worth of growth when he’d decide not to shave. I missed it and I longed for it. Although I perilously tried to bury it all, hearing his sexy voice every day and the sweet meaningful things he would whisper through the phone had made it impossible to forget about him and all we had shared together. He probably didn’t realize he was affecting me with everything that he said or did.