“The more pressure on him, the more he could decide this life isn’t worth it,” I say, voicing my concern aloud for the first time. “He doesn’t need that. Not after last time he made headlines.”
Kyler doesn’t need to know the person who outed Zayne is the one I want to put in a wedding dress and slide a ring on, though I’m sure his reaction would be comical. He says, “It sounds like your mind is already made up about this marriage thing, so why am I here? If this is your way of saying you want me in your wedding—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got plenty of mates for that. You may be able to pass as the flower girl, but I’d have to talk to my girl about that, and you’d look terrible in purple. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here. I need your advice on what you think.”
“Of the wedding you’re already set on?”
I nod.
He curses. “Garrick, I don’t need to be the one to tell you that this is a ridiculous idea. Even if you get married, the media is going to still surround you. And what happens if you get divorced? Is Rylee in the industry? Is she used to the publicity that she’ll get when your together or if you split up? Leighton still isn’t okay with the way cameras follow us around when we’re out. People are always going to be in your business even if you don’t want them to be. You’ll be making a bigger mess and adding another person in the mix.”
I can hear his just like you always do without him saying the words. It’s how he looks at me, speculative and judgmental. Not something I’m unused to, especially from a Bishop. I do tend to pull others into my bullshit, and usually without thinking it through.
“So, tell me this,” he continues. “Who are you really doing this for? Because you’ve never cared about what everyone thinks of you or your band. It’s why you’ve done whatever the hell you wanted even when it pisses people off. This isn’t about getting the press off the band’s ass or protecting Zayne.”
For once, I don’t answer right away. A noise below grabs my attention, causing me to watch a few bartenders arrive for their shift and prep the bar area. Stools are taken off the counter and placed on the floor, and the televisions are all turned on and playing the same boring ass sports channel that the guys all contently watch before they open to the public.
“Rylee needs this,” I finally tell him when he makes no move to force it from me.
A humming noise comes from him.
I inhale slowly and drop my head onto the cushion behind it. “I just need to convince her to accept the offer.”
“And if she can’t be convinced?”
For once, I don’t have an answer.
Sarcastic or not.
10
Rylee
The soil isn’t as rich as I would have liked, but I know Grandma Birdie wouldn’t have let that stop her from trying to bring something beautiful to life. She and Grandpa Al spent a lot of time in their flower and vegetable gardens, teaching me everything I know. During the summers, they’d even sell what they didn’t keep at the local farmer’s market in Liberty, and I’d sometimes come and help out. They’d give me some of the money they made, which I always put into my bank account for something big.
All the money I’d saved up at random jobs as a teenager was put toward my move to the Golden State. I didn’t know what it was I was saving for whenever I’d deposit my paychecks, I only knew whatever it was would be worth it.
Staring at the cheap tools and plants I bought at one of my favorite stores in the city to make sure I have everything I need I get to work while the sun is out.
Garrick had to go into the studio today, though I may have eavesdropped on the conversation he had on the phone in the kitchen with someone from the band saying he could use the extra studio time. Whether he really does or if he was giving me space, I’m not sure. He hasn’t pressured me into answering his proposal since bringing it up yesterday, but we both know there’s a timeline. If Sarina expects a story from me by the end of next week, that doesn’t give me a lot of time to think. Or overthink, which may be a blessing in disguise. I always was a last-minute type of person, and the results usually showed it.
I’m not sure how long I’m outside when I hear the doors slide open behind me. I look over my shoulder and see Yasmin smiling at me with a broom in one of her hands. She’s a smidge shorter than me, with black curly hair and a few natural streaks of silver and tan skin that I envy. There’s nothing exciting about my borderline fair complexion or the slightly wavy hair that falls flat every time it grows past my boobs.
“It looks so different out here,” she says, resting the broom against the doorjamb and walking out.
I smile. “I hope he likes it.” When I asked if it was all right to do something to the space, Garrick told me to do whatever I wanted. Chase made a weird noise and rolled his eyes that made his older brother shoot him a look, but otherwise didn’t give his input even though this is his home too.
She walks over and examines what I’ve done from over my shoulder. “I think he’ll love it. He’s talked about hiring someone to do landscaping for a while.”
My brows go up. “Really?”
Her smile is light. “You seem surprised by that. Haven’t you noticed the attention to detail inside? It was only a matter of time before it reached out here. The boys are busy
