Spotlight by Eden Finley Page 0,89

Ryder turns on his heel and storms out.

It’s hard to ruin something that doesn’t exist.

Defeat and guilt overshadow the frustration, and I slump.

Because he’s right.

I’m holding on to these deep-seated issues over my dad and his death. Any offer from the music industry will always feel like I’m selling out.

But how am I supposed to let go of that?

What Harley was offering sounded perfect—maybe too good to be true. I want to know more, find out if there’s a catch. Yet, I already wrote off the idea before I could ask more questions because of Ryder.

I didn’t lie when I said I’ve been avoiding auditions lately because I’m sick of the rejection, but it’s more than that.

I’m falling so fucking hard for Ryder. I’ve possibly already fallen completely. If I were to sign with a label now, I’m not sure we’re in a strong enough place to survive it.

He’s flighty and never had a relationship. I freeze every time he refers to me as his boyfriend because I’m sure he’s going to take it back.

I wanted to hold on to what we are building and postpone looking for representation, at least for a few months, then reassess when Kaylee starts school.

Except, now I’m wondering if that was an easy out. Was I using them as another excuse to hide behind?

Probably. But the problem is I have no idea how to stop hiding.

When Ryder said he was going to leave my career alone, I thought maybe he was saying it to calm an elevated situation, that he didn’t really mean it.

I didn’t expect him to stay true to his word.

Come Monday, while in the kitchen making Kaylee some lunch, Ryder slides my demo over to me. “Harley’s been calling me all weekend and all morning trying to get his hands on this. Take it from me before I’m too tempted. Do what you want with it. Set it on fire if you want. Just take it so I can respect your wishes.”

I swallow hard and take it from him with a nod.

He turns on his heel and walks out again.

I’m thankful for the gesture, but this whole situation has put strain on our relationship.

It’s not like we’re back at square one, but it’s definitely driven a wedge between us.

I figure it’s only been a couple of days, and maybe we both need time to cool off, but it’s just the start.

For the rest of the week, Ryder’s busy in the studio with the artist he thinks is a brat, and Maggie is out looking for a job, so I have Kaylee as usual.

We don’t spend the following weekend together because I tell him I’m utterly exhausted and want to go home after I gig.

I haven’t stayed over, and he hasn’t asked me to, but when we’ve been in each other’s presence, he’s still affectionate. He still kisses me hello and goodbye, and he still has the ability to make my brain short-circuit by simply pressing his lips to mine.

Things are … okay.

I think.

I’ve avoided talking to him about music since our fight, and I think he’s been biting his tongue. We’re going to have to face it eventually, but I’m scared things will blow up again.

We’ve disagreed before, but I guess this was our first real fight.

And I’m not delusional; I know couples fight.

But I’m worried Ryder will run instead of facing it if I bring it up again. I don’t want to give him that excuse.

We are both so passionate about music that when we stop talking about it, all that’s left to talk about is Kaylee.

And, I mean, that’s not a hardship. Kaylee is amazing. But she’s not all I want to talk about.

Part of me wants his opinion and thoughts on what I should do next in terms of my career, but I still fear the unknown, and now I worry bringing up my career will lead to a heated discussion.

I think that’s Ryder’s point, though.

Being with Ryder and Kaylee is safe and familiar, and they feel like home. Stepping out of that box and going for something I’ve been chasing since I was a kid and Dad first taught me to play the guitar is terrifying.

What if I fuck up?

What if I go back on my word and disappoint my mother?

What if I go for it and become the man I don’t want to be?

I want to learn from Dad’s mistakes, not repeat them.

And that’s what I’m truly scared of.

It’s not singing pop songs or changing my