Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
As annoying as it is, he’s the only one who has actually cared, so I appreciate him making the effort. I might not know where my head’s at, but I know he’ll be there when I make up my mind. I won’t be so proud this time to ask for his help or opinion.
“It’s almost happening.” He rubs his hands together. “Four of my boys in the one room. I’ll see you all together again yet.”
“Oh, Blake’s not here?” Denver asks.
“Apparently he needed to do reshoots for his film,” Ryder says. “Cameron is Team Harley, so prepare to have your ears talked off about signing to Valentine Records.”
Denver laughs. “Yeah, we knew that coming in here.”
My eyes lock on Ryder’s, and his lips tip up in a tentative smile. We haven’t seen each other since that last night on tour either because he’s spent the last two and a half years trying to disappear. It was easy for me, not so much for him. Paparazzi still want his story because he has a baby momma scandal and an illegitimate child. Ryder refuses to get into the story with the media, which means the vultures think it’s something huge when it’s not.
Maybe that’s what my career needed. Mystery. Damn it, I should’ve knocked someone up years ago. Because you know, having a child as a publicity stunt is a perfectly normal thing to do. That child wouldn’t grow up to need intense therapy or anything.
There’s this tense vibe between Ryder and me, but he breaks first and steps forward to hug me. “I’ve missed you, man. Where have you been?”
I hold on just a little bit longer than would be considered normal because I’ve missed him too. I’ve missed all of them. “Went home for a bit, but I’m back.”
Denver’s gaze flicks to mine. “For good?”
I pull away from Ryder. “For the foreseeable future.”
“I can practically smell the ink drying,” Cameron says.
I hold up my hand. “No. No business talk tonight. We came to support Harley and his new act. That’s it.”
“Mmhmm,” Cameron taunts.
I turn to Denver. “Why does no one believe me?”
“Because the rest of us have already given in,” Ryder says.
“Blake hasn’t yet, has he?” Last we talked, we were going to fight for what we wanted out of it, and I’m still waiting for that final thing to click into place. Something to tell me it’s the right move. After my horrible career choices since Eleven broke up, I’m reluctant to pull the trigger even though I want back in this life.
I do think it’s inevitable, but something’s saying not yet, not yet, not yet.
It’s probably a mix of stage fright, anxiety, and imposter syndrome. I’m not the guy I used to be. I can’t go back to being the Mason Nash everyone knows because that guy was only ever a front.
“We’re gonna go say hi to Harley and Lyric,” Denver says.
“And not promise to sign anything.” Cameron winks. “Got it.”
Denver pulls me away and into the throng of people. “Doesn’t Cameron realize goading you will only make you dig your stubborn heels in further?”
“Me? Stubborn? Never.” Okay, I’m a little stubborn.
Harley’s Cheshire grin as he sees us approach makes me wonder if he’ll whip a contract out from behind his back.
Lyric, the blond guy beside him, looks at ease as he talks to a new fan, but when they’re interrupted at our arrival, his easy demeanor slips away, and he actually looks … nervous?
Harley’s and my arms wrap around each other reflexively. The animosity that was there in Montana has dissipated, probably because my biggest issues were with Denver, not the others. When I forgave him, my anger over falling out of touch with all of the Eleven guys disappeared. Do I wish we had been there for each other? Of course. But we all had to do our own thing.
“Well, this is a better welcome than the last one,” Harley says.
I squeeze him just that bit tighter before releasing him. “They’re checking people for weapons at the door, so …”
He laughs. “Lyric, you know Denver, but this is Mason.” He pulls Lyric closer, and I shake his hand.
“My sister was obsessed with you,” he blurts. “Can I please get a selfie to taunt her?”
I rub the back of my neck. “I guess? If she’ll even recognize me now.”
“Oh, she will. She cried when you got—” He cuts himself off, and I know what he was going to say. Engaged.
“Lucky that never panned out, then, huh? Is your sister here?” I force a smile I don’t feel, and this is weird, because I can sense Denver’s glare too.
Dude, I’m not going to hit on Lyric’s sister, but this is awkward. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in these situations. The other day, running around LA, it was fast. Selfie here, signature there. This is a proper conversation. Apparently, I don’t know how to talk to someone new anymore.