Page 35 of Tell Me When It's Over

“Cool, creepy shit,” I amend.

He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. They’re who started it all for me. I watched the videos they posted whenever a new one popped up. It freaked Mom out.” I give him a pointed look that he just laughs off like he doesn’t get it. “I fell in love with computer work the same way Garrick fell in love with music. Mom couldn’t really argue with my choice not to attend college once she saw my passion for the work.”

I’m embarrassed by the rise of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. I should be happy for him for having that kind of support, but all I think about is Mom and her lack of encouragement with me. The only time she talked about college with me was when she wanted Harry to pay for it. She never asked me what I wanted to do after we left California. I’m not sure she cared.

“You’re not even listening anymore,” he accuses lightly, setting the popcorn on the table. I blink back into reality and flush.

Guilt floods me. “No, I am. I was just thinking about my mom. That’s all. It sounds like yours really loves you.”

He gives me a weird look. “Doesn’t yours? It’s kind of their job.”

I’m not sure I want to dive into the details of my rocky relationship with a woman who’s no longer here to defend herself. I want to tell him that Mom loved me a lot. She just loved herself more.

I don’t say that. “She did.”

His lips part, then quickly close in understanding. He really doesn’t know. That may just be a first. “Garrick told me to be careful about what I talk about, but he didn’t give me a list of specifics because he’s a dick like that.”

The laugh bursts past my pressed lips. “I should probably thank him for that, but it’s only because he mentioned my mother the last time we saw each other. He didn’t know either.”

He flinches in understanding. I just nod.

After the last video ends, he exits the app and stretches out. “I’m adopted.”

I stare at him, completely confused why he divulges that to me.

“That’s why I don’t have an accent.”

Another two slow blinks. “Oh.”

“Figured I owed you for the mom thing.”

Shaking my head, I move my hair behind my ear and crisscross my legs under me. “You don’t owe me anything, Chase. I know better than anybody that other people’s business is none of mine.”

He takes that into consideration, watching me a little too closely, for a lot too long. Eventually, he nods again. “Yep.”

My brows pinch.

“We’re definitely friends.”

I blow out a small breath.

Friends. I like the sound of that.

Chapter Eleven

Kyler / Present Day

The twenty-seven-year-old sitting across from me shouldn’t have any gray hair, but I swear I see a streak of it starting over his left ear. Otherwise, his dirty blond hair is slicked back like it usually is. Not in a scumbag kind of way, just professionally since he refuses to cut it any shorter.

“Before you say—”

“No.”

My manager sighs. “Kyler, dude—”

“No,” I repeat firmly. Gordy is doing his job, I get it. It’s likely the gray hairs that may or may not be growing by the dozen are because of me. I even feel a little bad about it. What I don’t feel bad about is shooting down the opportunity he’s attempting to goad me into. “Listen, man, if it were anybody else I’d consider it. Still probably tell you no but might give it a day.”

He swipes his face and leans forward, pressing a finger onto the contract. “It’s one song. Three minutes and sixteen seconds based on the demo. Can’t you deal with him for that long?”

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