He froze, his hand on his phone. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Yeah, I am too.”
And then he opened the door and left.
I stood there, staring at the door for an unknown amount of time. And I probably would have kept doing so, but the ringing of my phone snapped me out of it.
Reaching down, I saw it was a video conference call with Cassie and Quinn. I took a calming breath, swiped my hands under my eyes, and answered it. “Hey, girls. What’s shakin’?”
Quinn’s laugh rang through the speaker. Her eyes looked bright, so I could tell this call was about something good, and I could use something good right now, so my responding smile was genuine. “Two things. One, we want to be sure you’re okay. The last time we spoke, you broke up with Austin,” Quinn said.
I forced my smile to remain in place. “I’m hanging in. Throwing myself into work, you know? Maybe I’ll get another top country hit due to my broken heart.”
Cassie bit her lip. “I’m so sorry, Mac. We hate him. Like, we hate him so bad if we lay eyes on him, he’s toast.”
Quinn nodded. “Yeah, worse than toast. Hey, do you need us? I know we’re coming out soon but hell, we’ll jump on the next plane and be drinking cocktails on the beach within twenty-four hours.”
Knowing they meant every word, despite the crazy lives they led, made me tear up. I sniffed and wiped my eye, refusing to cry again. “Well, now you’re gonna make me cry and ruin my makeup. Absolutely not. I’m busy, too, and trying to clear my schedule so we can spend some quality time together. What’s the second thing you called for?”
Quinn brightened. “I have good news.”
I leaned in, smiling. “Good, we need it. Tell all.”
“I got the full-time position at New Beginnings!”
Cassie and I both flipped out, hooting and cheering and making fools of ourselves. This was excellent news. It deserved a standing ovation. “I can’t wait to celebrate!” I shouted out. “Congratulations, darling. You so deserve it.”
“I never doubted you,” Cassie said, her own smile huge. “Do you start after graduation?”
“Yes, I already put in for vacation for spring break, so that’s still clear.”
“I bet James is just as excited,” Cassie mentioned.
“I’m waiting to tell him. Figured I’d call my girls first.”
“You better!” I warned. “Forget that ‘bros before hoes’ crap. It’s BFFs before boyfriends!”
We all laughed, chattered a bit, and finally ended the call.
And the smile stayed, even after, despite my own heartache.
I STEEPLED my fingers under my chin and locked eyes on my agent. His brown hair was frazzled. Almost as frazzled as he was. He paced back and forth, his belly proceeding him by at least six inches with each step. Ever since I’d fought with Mac last night, I’d been so sure that I knew what I needed. What I wanted.
Who I wanted to be.
“You can’t do this,” said my agent, Lou, pacing back and forth in front of me. “It’s career suicide.”
“Does it really matter in the long run?” I asked.
After all, I’d never wanted to be famous.
Not since I’d come back from California and created a life for Rachel and me. I was her brother, yes, but more importantly, I was the father she’d never had. How many times during the past six months had I missed something in her life? Right now, she was off checking out a college with her best friend’s family—instead of with me.
My priorities had shifted ever since I’d met and fallen in love with Mac. It was time to go back to the way things were. Yes, we’d been tight on money back then, and we’d been struggling to make ends meet. Yes, we’d had more struggles than that, and they’d been real.
But I’d been there.
And she’s known she could count on me. Could she still?
“Of course it does,” he snapped, glaring at me. “This is your livelihood.”
I dropped my hands to my lap. “I don’t care. I don’t want it.”
“This is a huge deal, with a huge advance. I don’t think you realize the amount of money we’re talking about.” He stopped in front of me, his ruddy cheeks redder than usual. “We’re talking videos. Tours. A full support PR team. A—”
“Know what I hear in all that?” I stood up. “Me, being away. Me, fighting to balance family and my career, and failing. I’ve already been down this road.”
“But now you have it all figured out, right?”
“Yeah, I do. And something’s gotta give.” I headed for the door, but stopped and pointed at the paparazzi waiting for me. “It’s this life. I don’t need or want it. I don’t want the attention or the hype. I’m not even with Mackenzie anymore. Soon, if I stop giving them music, they’ll forget all about me.”
“That’s what I’m scared of.”
“But it’s what I want.” I shook my head. “I didn’t want this. I got caught up in the whole thing, and I was trying to be someone…”
“You know what I think? I think you’re making this decision because of a girl,” my agent said. “I know you’re upset about Mackenzie, but now is not the time to make these decisions.”
“Oh, I disagree. I think it’s the perfect fucking time.”
“Take some time and think about it for a few days before we make any rash decisions. Maybe…” He snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. Take a break from touring until your sister graduates, but release some songs here and there on a YouTube channel. That’s all the rage now.”
“You don’t get it. I don’t want to be all the rage. I want to sing in my bar, and I want to be home. I want to be there for Rachel.” I slashed a hand through the air. “That’s it. I haven’t signed anything yet, so I can back out if I want.”
He sputtered. “Take a few days and think before you act. Talk to Rachel and maybe your accountant or something. At least give me that.”
“Fine,” I gritted out. “But don’t expect me to change my mind.”
“And if you don’t, what am I supposed to tell them?”
“I don’t give a damn what you tell them,” I said, opening the door. “As long as you get the job done, if it comes to that.”
As I walked outside, the paps scurried like rats, taking pictures of me as quickly as they could. “How did it go? When can we expect your album to hit the shelves?”
I ducked my head and kept walking, ignoring them. They’d all be gone soon enough. And no one would give a damn what Austin Murphy, bartender and part-time singer, did with his fucking life. I. Couldn’t. Wait.
Sliding into the driver’s seat of my Jetta, I drove home, my music blaring the whole time. It was the first time I’d felt so free—so light—in months. No looming deadlines hanging over my head. No worries. I was free to be me, and not give a damn what I said or did. I didn’t have Mac anymore. I didn’t have my career.
And I’d be fine.
Why, then, didn’t I feel fine?
When I pulled up to my driveway, it was just in time to see Kaitlyn’s parents’ van pull away from the curb. That meant Rachel was home.
Good. We’d get pizza, catch up on The Walking Dead, and she could tell me all about her weekend. And I’d get to tell her that come hell or high water…
Next time, I’d be there with her.
I hopped out of the car and walked up the driveway, my steps light. As I opened the door, I called out, “Honey, I’m home.”
“In here!” she yelled from the kitchen. I followed it and entered the kitchen. She scrounged around in the fridge, shoving stuff to the side, her long brown hair hiding her face from me. “Do we have any OJ?”
“No,” I walked into the room and leaned against the entry, crossing my arms and my ankles. “How did it go?”
“It looked nice enough, I guess,” she answered dismissively, tapping her fingers on the handle of the fridge before closing it and facing me with eyes that were identical to mine.
“How are you doing?”
“Fine,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“What happened?” she asked, nibbling on her lower lip. “I mean, I’ve read the stories online and all, but I’d rather have the real one from you.”
“What did you read?”
“You broke her heart. Cheated on her.” She pinched her lips together. “And then there’s another going around that we were too much for her. The poor tortured boy and his little sister weren’t famous enough for America’s Sweetheart, or something like that.”
“No. That’s not true.” I walked up to her and rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. “We just didn’t work out. There were things…personal things…but we fought. She thought I didn’t want to be with her, so she…freed me. Her words, not mine.”
She cocked her head to the side. She looked so much like our mother when she did that. It almost hurt to look at her. She had Dad’s eyes, like me, but they weren’t cold like his…or mine. “But did you want to be free?”
“Absolutely not.” I hesitated, dropping my hold on her. “But I did realize I got swept up in the whole lifestyle she has. The fame, the shows, the tour.”
“What’s so wrong with that?”
“I miss things. I miss you, and important things like your college tours.” I rubbed my temples and sighed. “I’m never around anymore, Rach. This isn’t what I wanted. I came home to take care of you, and I will. I’m done chasing dreams and fame. Done with the press and the media and the rumors. I just want to go back to being normal.”
“But you’re not normal.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the window, pulling the curtains back a little bit. Out front, two reporters camped out, waiting for a shot of me. “You never will be normal. Those guys are out there because you’re special, and you can’t give that up. Not because you feel guilty for missing a stupid college tour.”
“But I’m supposed to be there,” I argued. “I’m your guardian.”
“Yeah, but you were busy making money to send me to that college, or whatever college I end up picking,” she said, smiling gently. She might only be seventeen, but she was acting like such an adult right now. More so than I was. I was a fucking mess right now. I’d never been more proud of her. “Don’t give up your dreams for me, or because you’re upset over Mac.”
“You sound like my agent,” I muttered.
“That’s because he’s right. And so am I.” She let the curtain fall back into place. “And, now, for my lecture about her…”
“Don’t,” I said, my voice hard. “It’s over. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore. She made that quite clear, numerous times.”
She rolled her eyes. “No offense, but you’re a guy, so I don’t trust your instinct. She said she set you free, but why? Was it because she didn’t love you anymore, or was it for you? Did she say?”
“She said she did what I couldn’t do. She gave me an excuse to walk away, and be free to see other women. She thought I wanted that.”
Biting down on her lip, she shook her head. “You have to go to her and fix it. She didn’t break up with you for her, she did it for you. She still loves you.”
“Love isn’t always enough. She said so.”
“Then give her more. Show her how much you love her. Prove her wrong. Show her you want to be with her and not some random girl.” She crossed her arms. “What have you done to show her you feel that way since she broke up with you?”
My cheeks heated. “Uh…” Kissed another girl in her lobby. “I…”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
I sat down on the couch. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, running my hands through my hair. “I don’t know anything about love, really.”
“Sure you do. You’ve been loving me for years.”
“That’s different.” I glanced up at her, resting my forearms on my knees and leaning my weight on them. “You’re my sister.”
“But it’s not. Not really.” She sat beside me. “If she’s upset, she needs you to show you care about her. Simple, really.”
“If you say so. I tried to tell her I didn’t want to be free or anything. She didn’t believe me.”
“Show, don’t tell.”
I cocked a brow. “Meaning?”
“Woo her. Show her how much she means to you.”
“Shouldn’t she know?” I asked, scratching my head. “I told her I still love her, and I used to tell her all the time. Those words don’t come lightly from me. If I say I love her, I mean it. I’ll love her forever, whether or not she’s with me. I’ll love her no matter what she says, does, or thinks. I’ll love her no matter what happens. Zombies, plague, war. She’ll always come first with me. Always. She should know that.”
She squeezed my knee. “Tell her again, but use those words. Exactly. And maybe add in a few more pretty ones. She needs to hear that.”
“But—”
“Just try it for me, okay?” She stood up and tugged me to my feet. “Go to her now. Make this right. Tell her you love her, and more importantly? Show her.”
I stood shakily, my heart thudding hard. “About this whole singing thing…I do want to take a step back. I don’t want to go on tour. I don’t want to be gone all the time.”
“Then don’t. But you can’t just stop.”
“I don’t know…”
“I do. You might not be so sure, but you want this. You do.” She smiled. “You’re just too busy worrying about me, but I like that you’re doing what you love. I think it’s awesome. I hope to one day love my job as much as you love yours.”
“I’m sure you will.” I hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “You’ll be an awesome doctor. Love you, kid.”
“I love you too.” She pushed my chest lightly. “Now go say that to Mac, and put this modern family of ours back together.”
“But you just got home. I want to spend time with you,” I protested.
“I’m going to eat, shower, and then study.” She pushed me again. “You’re not missing anything. Now go.”
I walked out the door on autopilot, my keys in my hand and my hat on my head. As I walked toward my car, cameramen snapped pics. I ignored them. The whole way to the hotel, I ran over our conversation for the millionth time.
Keeping Rachel’s words in mind about showing instead of telling, I stopped at the store and got Mac pink tulips. They were her favorite flowers. I’d give them to her, tell her all the things I’d said to Rachel, and then I’d try my best to show her how much I meant them all. I had no idea what that meant, but I’d figure it out…or I’d be fucked.
I couldn’t lose her for good. I had to fix this before it was too late.
Before she moved on.
As I walked into the lobby, I stuck my free hand in my pocket and walked over to Harry, smiling when he glared at my flowers and me. “Hey, buddy. Long time, no see. How’s the wife? And the kids?”
His chest puffed. “Get out.”
“I can’t.” I rested the flowers against my chest. “I need to talk to her.”
“Get out,” he repeated. “She cried for an hour last night after you left. I’m not letting her suffer through that again.”
“I don’t want to make her cry,” I said, my heart wrenching at the idea that I’d done so last night. Again. “I want to make her smile, laugh, and be happy.”
Harry crossed his arms. “Then leave her alone. You’re broken up, right?”
“Maybe, but I don’t want to be. She thinks I do, but she’s wrong. She’s very wrong.” I rocked back on my heels and lowered the flowers to hip level. A single pink petal hit the floor. “I need to go up unannounced, make my big speech, and beg her to take me back. I love her, man. Give me a shot to prove it to her.”
“So bringing a girl here last night was a way to show her that?”
“No.” I squared my jaw, getting an annoying sense of deja vu from this whole thing. I’d had to beg to be let through the last time we’d broken up. “That
was all a big misunderstanding. Do you think I’d be here, arguing with you, holding flowers in my hand, if I didn’t love her? Just let me through, man. C’mon.”
“Last time I let you up, you made it good for a little while, but then ruined it again. Why should I let you up now?” he asked, staring at me with murder in his eyes.
“Because I love her, and so do you.”
Harry stared at me without speaking, his brown eyes darker than ever before. “You don’t want to go up there right now, man. Go home.”
“No.” I stared right back at him, fully prepared to do battle all night if that’s what it took to get past him. “Please.”
The elevator doors opened, and Mac stepped out, a tall guy next to her. I’d never met him, but I recognized him right away. He was a fellow country singer, one Mac had often spoken of fondly. His brown eyes were on her, and she laughed at something he said. For all intents and purposes, she looked good.
Happy, even.
Damn her. And damn me too.
“I don’t know yet, but we’ll see after dinner,” she said, smiling up at him. “I might be persuaded.”
“I have very strong powers of persuasion,” the blond guy said, grinning. He was only a year or so older than Mac, if I recalled correctly, and he’d recently broken up with a fiancée. A normal girl, not a star. The very thing I’d been trying to avoid. “You’ll see.”
She laughed and stepped out of the elevator. “I’m sure I’ll—”
One foot in the air, she froze and stared at me, her green eyes wide. Her curly hair fell around her face in gentle waves, and I noticed immediately that she’d dyed it back to her original color. Light blonde. She looked so young and free and pretty…it hurt. I felt like shit, and she was out laughing with other guys, wearing a pretty pink dress, and going on a date.
Rachel had been wrong.
“Harry, what’s going on?” she asked, her hands worrying her small clutch purse. Her gaze fell to the stupid flowers I’d brought before slowly raising back to my face. “Why are you two standing off against one another with…?”
Fucking flowers. Just say it.
The country dude stepped beside her and placed a hand on the small of her back. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
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