Page 48 of Spite Crush

“Yeah. See, Kellen doesn’t have a shred of self-worth about himself. So he doesn’t believe anyone could ever really love him.”

“Hey, this isn’t like that,” I said firmly. “I know that you love me.” I looked over at Austin and gave him a weak smile. “As a brother type thing.”

“I know.” Austin winked at me.

“So, what’s the problem?” Rye asked. “You don’t love him?”

“That’s not the issue,” I muttered.

“So, you’re in love with him?” Rye asked.

“Yeah,” I said. There was no point in denying it. Rye would just know I was lying anyway. Because yeah…he did know me that well. “I am.”

“And…he’s in love with you?” Austin asked.

“Yeah.”

Rye and Austin exchanged a look and then both burst out laughing.

“God, were we that stupid in our twenties?” Rye asked him.

“You’re still stupid,” Austin assured him. “Look, I realize you and I don’t know each other that well. But admitting you love each other is the hard part. And if he was willing to tell you that, I think you might be the one who’s in the wrong here.”

“I know that!” I snapped. “I know I’m the one who’s the problem. But our situation is complicated. Andknowing something isn’t the same as hearing it out loud.”

“Tell me all of it,” Rye insisted.

So I did. Well, not the sex part. Or the pickles, because my stomach was still churning a little from that stupid stunt. But I told them about the conversation that happened between those incidents.

“Yeah…that sounds really dumb,” Rye said. “You said that hearing him tell you he loves you would make you want things you can’t have.”

“Exactly.”

“So, you don’t want those things right now?” Rye asked.

“Well, of course I do,” I said, deflating a little from my frustration. “It’s not that simple.”

“Because you won’t let it be,” Rye insisted.

“Kellen, what do you want?” Austin asked, laying a hand on Rye’s thigh, which caused Rye to shut his mouth. That was a neat trick. It probably only worked for Austin though.

“I want to not feel like this anymore,” I admitted. “I don’t want tomake another album with Ford and Tim. I don’t want Craig, or the label, dictating my life. I want to sleep. And I want to be with Zak.”

“You can make all of that happen,” Rye said. “You have the same contract with the label that I do.”

“How do you know what’s in my contract?” I asked him.

“Because my lawyer negotiated it for you and I told him what I wanted you to have.” Rye shrugged. “You read it, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” I said. Six years ago when we’d all signed it. Maybe it was time to review it again. At the time we’d been eighteen-year-old kids and would have signed anything that was put in front of us for a chance at a career in music. Which of course, Rye probably knew.

“Let me refresh your memory,” Rye said, humor in his tone. “You own HSF. And the contract has the option of expiring at the end of each tour. Which means as of last Saturday, you’re free to opt out of renewal.”

“I don’t have to do another album?” The sense of peace that slithered through me at that thought was almost frightening. I could be free? “Areyou my real dad?”

Rye clapped me on the shoulder as Austin burst out laughing.

“Sometimes I forget that you really are a good guy,” Austin told his husband.

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