Chapter Four
Jonathan
“Hey, Colt. Thanks for coming over.”
“No problem.” My youngest brother walks into my apartment, looking around the space. He’s only been here once before. We’ve always seen each other at my parents’ house. But I haven’t been back since my mom tried to break up Gabby and me last month.
Colt pushes his sandy hair off his forehead. He takes after our dad the most with lighter hair and gray-blue eyes. He’s also the shortest and the skinniest, though that could change. He’s only eighteen. I was skinnier at that age too. I’ve gotten more bulky in the last year or so because my trainer has been forcing me to put on muscle before touring. It worked. I’ve had to buy bigger shirts more than once. We finished bulking up in April, and then I had to cut for the spring and summer to get ready for all the pictures and magazine spreads. Now that it’s September and touring is starting, I can finally relax on the diet. Eat normal food once in a while, though my nutritionist still has a detailed meal plan for me. With Gabby gone, it’s easy to stick to. I don’t have to think about it. But when I visit her, I’m throwing it out the window. We’ll eat whatever the hell we want, diets be damned. I’ll work it off on stage anyway.
“You want a drink or anything?” I ask Colt and point to the kitchen.
“Sure. Soda if you have any.”
I laugh. “Sorry, no. That’s not on the meal plan.”
He makes a face, like he’d prefer to jump out the third story window rather than discuss diet plans. “Right. Water’s fine, then.”
Leading the way into the kitchen, I fill two glass with ice and water from the refrigerator door, sliding one to him where he’s perched on a stool at the breakfast bar. He takes a drink, his eyes on me the whole time. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
I set my glass on the counter behind me. “I wanted to see if you’d be my assistant on tour.”
He snorts out a laugh. “Yeah, sure. Why’d you really want to talk to me? It’s not like we hang out.”
One of my eyebrows lifts. “I’m serious. My manager’s been sending me resumes and scheduling meetings, but most of them are girls who were teeny bopper fans, and …” I shift my feet, crossing my arms. “And I’d rather have someone who’s not a young, unattached woman as my assistant.”
His slate-colored eyes study me impassively for a few beats. “You mean you don’t want to give your girlfriend any extra reasons to be jealous.”
It’s not a question, but I nod in confirmation anyway.
“Why do you want me to be your assistant? What if I have other plans?”
“Do you?”
He drops his gaze to his glass, spinning it around a few times. “No. But that still doesn’t tell me why you want me. Surely you can find someone else who’s not a chick.” He meets my eyes and takes another drink of his water.
“Probably, yeah. But I have no idea how long it’d take to find someone that I like. And then even longer to get them up to speed. And if they’ve never been on tour before, there’s the chance they’ll quit when the travel gets to be too much. You know what touring is like. You understand performing. And you might be able to make contacts to advance your own career.”
His gaze sharpens. “Oh yeah? And what career is that?”
I sigh, letting my arms drop. “Come on, Colt. We both know you want to break back into the music industry. You’ve wanted it all along. More than any of us.”
“More than you, that’s for damn sure,” he mutters into his glass. I’m not sure if he wanted me to hear him or not, but I did.
“Yeah. I know. And I know you’re pissed that I’m getting this, and you’re not. But maybe you could take advantage of it and get what you want out of it in the end. You’d be helping me in the meantime, and you’d get to travel, get a paycheck, get Mom and Dad off your back for not going to college and not getting a job, and you might be able to work things so you can go on your own tour in the future.” I wait for him to process before pushing. “I need someone I can trust on this tour with me. Say you’ll do it.”
His flat gaze meets mine, and he blows out a breath, his nostrils flaring. “Okay. I’ll come. But I’m not going to just be your lackey or something.”
I can’t suppress my grin. “Yeah, you will. That’s what being an assistant is. But you’ll also get to be in on everything that’s going on with the tour. It’s eye-opening, Colt. A whole different experience from what happened when we were kids. Mom and Dad sheltered us from a lot more than we realized.”
He nods slowly and finishes his water. “Yeah. That makes sense. We were just kids, man.”
“You’re barely not a kid yourself.”
“Tell that to your girlfriend.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Low blow, dude. Leave her out of this.”
Sliding off the bar stool, he shrugs and gives me a careless grin. “Fine. But you’re only mad because you know I’m right.”
“If you say so. She’s still older than you and been away from home for a year. Whereas you’re still living with Mom and Dad. So you don’t have any room to talk shit.”
He laughs lightly, running his hand through his hair again, all his earlier tension and brooding gone. “Mom’ll be glad I’m on tour with you. She’s been pushing me to get you to bring me along anyway, although I think she wanted me to be the equipment manager or something.”
“Ha. I already have one. Shane and the rest of the band trust this guy more than you. No offense.”
He gives me a crooked smile. “None taken. I’m just saying that’s what she was hoping for. She thinks I’ll keep her updated since you’re not talking to her anymore.”
My mouth tightens. “Yeah, well, she only has herself to blame for that.”
His hands go up, palms out. “I know. I’m not saying anything about that. I don’t even know the whole story because none of you will talk about it. But I do know that she hates being cut out and kept in the dark. So if you’re trying to punish her, it’s working. But consider easing up a little and filling her in sometimes. Or letting me. Because she’s driving Dad fucking crazy.”
I blink twice, then give in to the half smile pulling at my mouth. “Yeah. I bet she is. Poor Dad.”
Colt nods, trying to look wise beyond his years. “Exactly. If not for her sake, then for Dad’s. He didn’t do anything wrong, did he?”
I shake my head and sigh. “No. He didn’t. He was always nice to Gabby and made her feel welcome. Mom’s the one that tried to run her off.”
“Is that what happened?”
The half smile slips from my face. “Yeah. She tried to convince Gabby to break up with me when she took her out to lunch. When that didn’t work, she tried to make me believe that Gabby was leaving and that I should let her go or break up with her. That it would be best for both of us.”
Colt’s eyes go wide. “Wow. I didn’t realize she’d gone that far.” He shakes his head. “To be fair, though, she kinda has a point.”
My nostrils flare, and I cross my arms, unconsciously drawing up to my full height. “You think so?”
“Calm down, Jonathan. You don’t need to go all intimidating big brother on me. I’m not saying she did the right thing or that you don’t have a right to be pissed. But even you in all your thick-headedness have to see that your life would be easier without the complication of a long-distance relationship.”
I deflate at his words, delivered calmly and with an edge of brotherly teasing. “Yeah, okay. That’s maybe true, in an academic sense. It would be easier if I didn’t have a girlfriend, much less one who’s still in school and can’t just uproot her life to go on tour with me. Who I can’t ask to do that, no matter how much I want to. But that discounts how important she is to me. Completely disregards the fact that without her none of this would be happening. I’m supposed to—what? Just break up with her because she’s no longer convenient? Are people—relationships—really supposed to be that disposable?”
The small smile growing on his face stops me. “What?”
He shakes his head, putting his hands in his pockets. “For someone railing against people and relationships being disposable, I just think it’s funny that you’ve cut Mom off. Like she’s … oh, I dunno. Disposable?” He sounds entirely too amused.
“Shut up, Colt.” He just laughs. “It’s not the same thing. I’m not throwing Mom away. Or my relationship with her. I just … need some time. I’m still mad about what she did. She tried to manipulate Gabby, lied to me, and generally behaved in the worst possible way. I’m allowed to be pissed.”
“She’s tried to apologize,” he breaks in softly. “You won’t acknowledge that, though. That’s rough, man. She’s taking it really hard. And it’s painful to watch.”
Colt and I stare each other down for a few beats. “I’m not ready to hear her apology yet,” I say to break the standoff.
He shrugs, like he doesn’t care either way. He’s much better at pulling off the unaffected act than I am. But I know the tension bothers him. There’s nothing I can do about that right now, though. I’m still too angry with her. Even if she is sorry, it feels more like she’s sorry that I’m mad than regretful for her actions. I still think she’d do the same thing again if given the chance. And I can’t let that go. Not yet.
“Alright, well, let me know when I’m starting the new job as assistant.” He looks around the apartment. “Am I supposed to pack for you and get you coffee and shit? When are we leaving?”
“Ha. No. I’ll pack myself, thanks. You’d probably fuck something up, and I can’t risk that.”
He clutches his chest. “Dude. You wound me. I thought you asked me along so you’d have someone you can trust with you.”
“Yeah. Trust not to sell me out or try to get in my pants. Or let groupies into my hotel room. I don’t trust you to pack my clothes. Would you want me packing for you?”
“Fuck no.”
“Exactly.”
He laughs. “Okay, good. I don’t want to pack for you anyway.”
“Right. Let’s go grab some lunch, and we’ll hash out details and what exactly I need you to do for me.”
His eyebrows lift. “You can eat out? Are you sure? What about your girlish figure?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I grab my keys. “The photo shoots are over for a while. I’m not on a starvation diet anymore. I can eat real food again. And I’m fucking going to. Come on.”
His laughter echoes in the hallway as he follows me out the door. Between his initial brooding, his obnoxious comments about Gabby and Mom, and now laughing at me and my eating, maybe asking him along wasn’t such a good idea after all. I guess I can always fire him if he gets to be too obnoxious. Another perk of being the talent.