Spotlight by Eden Finley Page 0,85
he wants.
“I expected a bigger sales pitch,” I say.
Harley looks smug. “I figure I don’t have to say much because I know you want to do this.”
“I do, but I can’t.”
“Why not? You have a nanny and Maggie out there. How long is she home for?”
I hesitate. “She didn’t re-up.”
His glee is evident. “Perfect.”
“No, it’s not perfect. I can’t leave Kaylee on her own.”
“You can leave her with her mom.”
I glare. “Seriously. Don’t have kids.”
Harley laughs. “There’s something else, and I want you to be a part of it.”
I narrow my eyes. “Oh God, you’re not coming out publicly and getting married or some shit, are you? I’m calling not it on being your best man.”
“Ha, ha, and no. Although, I have an idea about the whole coming out thing if you’re interested and want do it with me?”
“That would be a hell no.”
“Thought so.” Harley shrugs. “It’s not gonna happen for a while anyway. We figure if I come out, it won’t be long before everyone realizes the big guy is more than my bodyguard, and we’re enjoying being us right now.”
“That’s really good. Keep hold of that for as long as you can. What’s the news, then?”
“I’m starting my own label.”
I perk up. “Really?”
“I got out of that ugly contract mess with Joystar, and I really don’t want to go through that again. So I figure …”
“You figure you’d bankrupt yourself? Smart.”
“I’m serious. I want Eleven to get back together and do new music on my label. We can do our own sound, and you can produce. We’ll find some new talent and build a fucking empire from the ground up.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“But how much fun will it be?”
I can’t deny that.
He turns big puppy dog eyes on me. “Please, Ry? Please? I’ll be your best friend forever.”
“Are we twelve?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know why you’re coming to me first. You really think you can get the other guys to come back? Blake doesn’t even sing anymore. Mason could be dead for all we know.”
“I came to you first because even though the others will be a hard sell, you’re the one I want to do this with most. We were like brothers on the road, and I fucking miss you, okay?”
“Why are you so obsessed with me?” I throw his words from earlier back at him.
“You’re going to say yes. I can feel it.”
I groan. “I want to. You know I want to. But … I can’t.”
There’s a knock on the door, and then Lyric pushes his way through. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but Ryder, can I talk to you for a second?”
How long has he been standing outside that door?
“It’s about Kaylee,” he adds, and I’m out of my seat as fast as humanly possible.
But when he pulls me through the house, past where Kaylee is still playing with Brix and being watched by Maggie, I realize he’s lying.
“You were eavesdropping.”
He leads me to our—er, my—bedroom. “Guilty.” He spins to face me. “You have to do it.”
“I have to do it? Says who?”
“Me.”
“Last I checked, you weren’t the boss of me.”
His hands find my shoulders. “You deserve this. You want this. You can’t keep Kaylee locked in a tower her whole life.”
“She can’t come on tour with us. Which would mean leaving her for months. I’m not okay with that.”
“From the sound of it, Harley wants you two to make your own rules. Set up tours for the summer when she’s out of school, and pay me to go with you as her nanny. Or hell, pay Maggie to be her nanny … Wait, is it technically being a nanny if it’s her mom?” He shakes his head. “Either way, this is doable. You just have to let go of that protective streak and take the leap.”
“I never thought I’d see the day where you, of all people, want Eleven to get back together.”
“I don’t. Well, I mean, your own sound could be cool. You’re better than all that your love fits like a glove crap.”
“Those lyrics are not in any of Eleven’s songs.”
“You know what I mean. You’re so much better than that, and this is an opportunity to show off your amazing song writing skills and produce. I already know you can perform the shit out of anything.”
“It’s too selfish of me. I owe the next few years to Kaylee.”
Lyric grunts. “You’re so frustrating sometimes. You call me stubborn, but fuck, being happy doesn’t make you selfish, Ryder. I would kill for what