around his wrist, which seems to soothe him. He seems more worked up than she does. “Go sit outside. How would you feel if someone was in your studio telling you what to do?”
Dad finally relents.
The three of us walk into the waiting room just as Tyler stalks around the corner.
“How is she?” Tyler asks, his gaze flicking between us.
“We’re trying to find out,” Jax answers grimly.
“Hey, Sunshine Sophie.” Tyler’s attention lands on my sister wandering down the hallway and tracing a finger down the wall. “Let’s go find some trucks outside.”
She runs for him, and I shoot him a grateful smile.
After Tyler departs, my dad lifts his hands to his face, and I frown. “Are you biting your nails right now?”
He rubs a hand over his neck. “Haven’t done that in a long fucking time.”
Beneath the grumpiness, there’s something deeper, a worry that barking at people can’t fix.
I think of my conversation with Tyler on the plane about loving people, and how we show our love in different ways. Dad definitely has the protective kind down.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go find snacks.”
We head for the vending machines.
“Remember when we used to get BBQ Pringles for road trips?” I say, pulling out a bill and feeding it into the machine. “I haven’t had them in years.”
I punch the button and watch the silver spiral thingy turn. It stops with the chips hanging from the edge. “Crap.”
My dad shakes the machine, and I laugh as I feed it another bill.
He grunts. “It’ll eat your money twice.”
“It might not.”
We both watch as if this is the most important thing in the world. The gear turns, dropping the first chips.
The second…
Nope. Stuck.
I drop into a chair, and he takes the one next to me.
I grab the tin and open the lid. “You do the honors.”
He pops it and takes the first chip. “How was New York?”
The question is forced out, as if it takes an unusual amount of energy for him to expel the words.
“I had a minor setback with work,” I say carefully, knowing my career hasn’t been something we could talk about in the past. “A personal contact was going to invest in the new show. It got messy, and he’s not the right fit anymore.”
“It’s a big deal, producing a show.”
“I know.”
I reach for a chip and crunch into it. He sits in silence next to me.
“Tyler kicked my kid out of the studio and wants to put Shay in his place,” he goes on after a moment. “I didn’t bring him on to scout talent. I brought him on to rein it in. He was always sensible at that age. Mostly sensible,” he amends. “I put a lot into this label. My reputation. My money.”
I cock my head. “If you lose everything, Haley has her business. She can support you.”
He shoots me side-eye, and I can’t help smiling.
“Everyone thinks dating musicians is awesome,” I say. “But it sucks.”
My dad follows my gaze down the hall to where Tyler’s playing with Sophie.
“Am I the reason you’re not with Tyler?”
The words are so quiet I almost miss them.
“No. We’re...I don’t know what we are,” I admit. “But after he got hurt, we needed space. I told myself he needed something I couldn’t give him. But I wanted my dreams too. I wanted to prove I could make it.”
“And now?”
I exhale hard. “I don’t know, Dad.“
“He cares about you.” He looks over at me. “Haley will be the first to say I’m not patient. Loving someone doesn’t mean you’re a different person every day. But it means you’re willing to try to be better.”
I offer him the last chip.
He shakes me off. “It’s yours.”
I break it in half, and he takes the other part.
“You know which album is the most important?” he muses after finishing and brushing his hands on his jeans. “It’s the one you create next. It’s not just about the money. It’s my reputation.”
“That’s why you should trust Tyler about Shay.” I glance toward the man I love entertaining my little sister down the hall, and my chest expands until it threatens to crack my ribs. “Because he doesn’t go all in every day. But when he does… it’s magic.”
15
“That thing you wanted me to keep an eye out for? I’ve got a lead on it,” Beck says over the phone as I shift out of my car at the studio the next day. “Four bedrooms. Ocean view. Floor-to-ceiling glass. Don’t drool on your shoes.”
I shake my head