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But again, the words are there. And genuine.
“You’re welcome.”
“So…why change your name?”
I’m surprised she’s asking, but I hide it with a shrug of one shoulder. “The publicist my manager hired suggested it. Back then, I was happy to do whatever it took.”
More than happy, I was eager. Thrilled to leave Miles Spencer behind. And now…I kind of miss him. Wonder what his life would be like. If he would still have a mother.
“You’re not happy to now?”
It’s essentially a rhetorical question, considering why she’s here.
I stopped jumping through hoops when it came to my career a long time ago. Now, I’m not willing to do even the barest minimum.
I’m done.
And the sooner Piper accepts that, the easier both of our lives will be.
“No.” I inject my voice with a shot of steel, reminding myself—and her—that we’re not friends enjoying a late-night chat. “I’m not.”
She’s here for her job.
I’m here for my family, to figure out who I would have become had I never accepted Hudson’s dare and sang at the fair senior year.
“There’s more food in the fridge. Help yourself to whatever you want.”
I straighten and push away from the counter.
Piper’s gaze skates over my bare chest. It doesn’t feel like she’s checking me out, more like she’s curious. Like she’s a scientist gathering information about a newly discovered species. Or like she’s searching for something.
Without asking, I’m certain she’s trying to figure out why I’m done with music. I also know she won’t get the answer from me.
“Good night.”
I’m halfway to the stairs when she speaks again.
“Kyle?”
I still as soon as she says my name, having expected it somehow.
“Yeah?” I glance back, finding her in the same position, leaning against the counter.
Her empty plate sits next to her left hand, the few crumbs a reminder that I’m weaker than I want to be.
“I’m not leaving,” she says, the same hard tone I just employed reflected right back at me.
I swallow. “I’m not changing my mind.”
“Why, Kyle? You’re being offered everything—”
“I don’t owe you an explanation, Piper. It’smylife.Mycareer.Mydecision. I’m not going to kick you out. I get this is your job, as screwed up as that is. And I know it’s the only reason you’re here—”
“What doesthatmean?” This time, she cuts me off.
“You’ve visited Texas before? Spent some time on a ranch? Planned to sleep in a bunkhouse?”
She’s silent.
