Hisattitude? That makes me laugh—I’ve seen so much more of his attitude than these women ever will.
I cast Knox a sidelong glance. His smile looks tense, but I don’t think the women notice.
Then I get an idea. “We should get going, Knox,” I say. “You know, Jason’s party…”
“JasonHawk?” the woman in red and pink squeals while from her friend comes an awestruck “Oh, my God.”
Knox shoots me a genuineyou serious?look. I smile and shrug.
“We didn’t want to bother you,” one of them says. “It’s just that seeing you was really rad. Wow.”
They both look starstruck as Knox says a polite but firm goodbye, and I am relieved once we’re finally past them.
Knox exhales. “As if I would ever go to one of that idiot’s parties. You’re incredible, Paisley.”
“I know.”
His phone buzzes. He looks at the display and rolls his eyes before taking the call. “What’s up? Ah ha. Yeah, beforehand.” He pauses a moment, then, “No! Which magazine? Fine, Jennet, then tell theMirrorthey won’t get any statement.” Knox presses his lips together. “I don’t care that there’s room for speculation. You’re my spokesperson and you tell them in no uncertain terms that I am not going to make any statement about that. Yeah, right. Yeah. See you.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. The story earlier, the one with our picture…the press wants to know who you are.”
“Oh.” I look at him. “Please don’t tell them.”
His eyes grow wide. “Of course not. My private life has nothing to do with anyone else.”
“Isn’t it tough, being in the public eye all the time?”
Knox nods. “That’s why I often need peace and quiet. Like now.”
“Oh,” I say again. I sound like an idiot. “Should I leave you alone?”
He shakes his head. “You’ve misunderstood. I mean, being with you right now is…really nice.”
I begin to tingle. “Thanks.”
Knox nods toward a narrow path leading to Buttermilk Mountain. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
He leads me to a barn that is off the beaten track between the town and the mountains. It’s dark out here, so Knox turns on the light on his phone as he lifts up the door’s heavy iron bar.
“Why isn’t it locked?” I ask.
Knox laughs. “No one in Aspen steals horses, Paisley.”
The smell of hay and dung fills my nose as we step into the stable. I can’t believe my eyes. “That’s Sally!” I point at the spotted Irish Cob in the back box before turning to Knox. “Are these the carriage horses?”
He closes the door. Dust whirls up from the floor.
The light from his phone only lights up half of his face, the other remains in shadow. “Yeah. They belong to William.”
“I love horses,” I whisper. The wood beneath my feet creaks as I walk up to a Haflinger rubbing its head along the beam of its box. I softly run my fingers through its mane. “They are so pure.”
I hear a rustling. Turning around, I see that Knox has laid down in the big pile of hay by the door. The Valentino bag next to him just doesn’t fit.
“I’m tired,” Knox mumbles in a voice that’s both sleepy and throaty. I get goose bumps.
“Me too. And cold.”
