Page 15 of Demo
I let out a “harumph,” then looked at him seriously. “Nah, he didn’t ruin anything.”
“I knew it. You’ve got a crush on me.” And there was that megawatt smile again.
“Oh, please!” I groaned as I slammed a hand into his chest. And he didn’t budge. Not one freaking inch.Jesus.
“So, you always wanted to be in the family biz?” I asked as I sauntered back inside the building, looking around at the work done inside.
“I guess you could say that,” Knox replied. “Nothing else just ever seemed to excite me, you know? It’s like once I learned to work with my hands and build shit, repair shit, I couldn’t just sit still and do anything else.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked around shyly.
“I get it,” I said. “That’s why I like to write. I like to create. Different medium, but kind of the same concept, I guess.”
“Really?” Knox came to rest in a doorway, his arms perched above him, gripping the top of the frame as he leaned in, showcasing his sculpted triceps. “What do you write?”
“Well, actually, I have an interview this week with ROC Record to fill a paid internship position as a reporter. I’ve never really thought about journalism, but the listing sounded interesting enough.” I lifted my cup to my mouth to finish off the rest of my whiskey.
“I bet you’ll crush it,” he said with a smile.
I held up a set of crossed fingers, and Knox saw my empty cup.
“Refill?” he asked.
“No,” I answered quickly, at the same time my stomach growled loudly. I put my hand over my stomach, embarrassed.
We locked eyes, then Knox asked, “Did you just fart?” No hint of humor in his voice.
Horrified, I stared at him until his facade broke, and his head reared back as he broke out in laughter.
“You aresuchan ass!” I smacked him right in the ribs.
“Damn you’re handsy,” he said as he pulled back and rubbed his middle. “Just remember that whatever you do to me, I get to do to you.” And with that, he turned and retreated down the stairs.
“What, did my noxious gas clear out the room?” I asked, following him slowly.
He chuckled. “No, I just figured we should get you fed. There’s a place around the corner that serves great Buffalo wings.”
“Oh, so you do want me to get the farts,” I said as I shimmied past him through the threshold of the front door, and he locked it behind me.
His chuckle, which was already becoming familiar, was all the response I got as we descended the stairs.
***
“No way!” Knox practically shouted before plunging a blue-cheese-covered thumb into his mouth.
“Way!” I licked buffalo sauce off my own fingers.
“As soon as my hands are no longer sticky, I’m gonna Google that shit.”
“Go ahead, my friend. But I’m telling you, when the band sings live, the lyrics are‘And I wanna be there ...’Not‘I don’t wanna be there …’”
“No. I don’t believe you. That would change the entire meaning of the song!” With his teeth, Knox tore the meat, skin and cartilage off a wing all in one bite.
“I know. I know.” I hooked my pinkie finger into the handle of my glass of water and pulled it toward me so I could get my lips around the straw. Then I continued, “It took me a long time to accept it, so I’ll give you some time.”
Knox grabbed his water with his filthy hands, not caring if he got sauce everywhere, and took a hefty gulp. “I feel like my whole life has been a farce. I mean, I love Oasis. How could I not know this?” He took another swig, and I started to notice the sweat beading up on his forehead.
“You OK there, cowboy?” I asked as I used my finger to push a hunk of meat through the two bones on a wing and ripped it out with my teeth, then continued around a mouthful, “you look a little green around the gills.”
When we got to the pub, Knox asked me my spice level for wings, and when I told him I could do DEFCON, he went along with me, but I could tell from the slight bulging of his eyes before he corrected his features that he was scared.
