Page 93 of To Believe In You
“Not today.” Matt rubbed his face. Before he spent the check on a car, he needed to clear his debts. “Maybe after I pay back my parents.”
“Maybe?”
Matt nodded. Splurges on himself would depend on how things went this weekend. In fact, whether Nadia accepted money from him or not, the trip underscored why having the check wasn’t as much of a relief as it would’ve been just weeks before. He might be on the verge of clearing the books with his parents, but he was nine years behind with Nadia and Axel in ways money wouldn’t solve.
Tim shifted into gear, and Key of Hope slid from view as the vehicle turned for the street. “You could call first. Or get lawyers involved, make sure the kid’s actually yours before you go down there.”
“It’s not a topic I want to introduce over the phone.”
“Things could get messy. She’ll hear you’re back in Awestruck, might figure you have money again.”
Which would be true. “She’ll hear whether I go or not. If he’s mine, I want to contribute.” Financially and otherwise.
“It’s my job to look out for your best interests, something you haven’t been doing for yourself lately. If I’d been at that accident scene, things would’ve played out differently.”
“Then you know why I didn’t call you.” Instead, Matt had walked back to the condo. His fingers tightened around the armrest. “Is that the problem? I’m taking Krissy with me to Texas instead of you?”
“I’m not some jealous ex-girlfriend.”
Matt snorted. “Kinda acting like one.”
“Let me ask you this. Did you want to bring your sister?”
Yes and no. She’d pointed out he could use the support on such an emotional trip, leaving her underlying concern—that he’d relapse—unspoken. “She made some good points. It’s not smart to isolate myself.” As much as he might want to.
“She talked you into it.”
Matt didn’t reply because he saw where Tim was going. If Krissy could talk him into something, Nadia could. And unlike his sister, Nadia might not be motivated by his best interests.
“You let a guy get away with punching you.”
He could claim he’d been out to follow the Bible’s command to turn the other cheek, but his decision to not press charges hadn’t been noble. He deserved a good knock upside the head. He didn’t deserve Lina or the massive check in his account.
Tim parked at the restaurant, and they met up with John in the lot. Inside, a giggling hostess showed them to a corner booth where Gannon and Philip had already been seated. Perhaps the waitstaff was equally flustered, because a manager waited on them instead of one of the normal servers. A guy at a nearby table shamelessly recorded them on his phone.
Had it always been like this with Awestruck?
He remembered crowds at shows, hotels, and events during his first stint with the band. He’d been recognized plenty of times, but he didn’t remember the nonstop buzz. He’d been too full of himself to look around and see how their presence affected everyone.
He tried to enjoy the steak while allowing the others to carry the conversation. The guy who pointed his phone toward them would get nothing but footage of them eating, swapping stories, and joking with the manager who served them.
What kind of footage had people gotten of Matt before he’d gotten sober? Attempting to get through to him, Krissy and Tim had occasionally shown him clips of him making a server cry. Stumbling to his car. Getting in a bar fight. Worse.
He was a new man now. Supposedly, he could do better, but instead of feeling calm assurance, only the weight of responsibility registered.
His every action would either please or disappoint masses of people.
Maybe he’d signed the contract too soon.
Maybe he needed longer to get himself together for this.
Maybe he’d never arrive.
Too recently, he’d been the guy with the old car broken down in the middle of the road, falling through on the simplest commitments.
“This is probably unprofessional.” The hostess materialized at the end of the booth, clutching a napkin. “But could I get your autographs?”
“Sure.” Gannon pushed his plate forward, opening up a few inches of space. “You’ve got a pen?”
