Page 101 of Sing For Me

I let out a long, shaky breath. “I’m so fucked up, man.”

“You’re not fucked up. You’re just scared.”

I let out a bitter laugh. He has no idea how true that is.

“So, does she know how you feel?”

I shake my head. “We’re not even dating.”

“I know.” I shoot him a questioning look and he shrugs. “I never said Rosie didn’t tell meanything.”

I laugh for real at that, running a hand over my beard. “Heaven forbid the people in this family stopped gossiping for five goddamned minutes.”

He laughs too and turns the hose on, sending a spray of water towards the dying embers. “She’s got some issues,” I eventually say, wondering if he’ll even be able to hear my low voice over the sound of the spray.

“Dad told me about the fire.”

That stops me short. “Dadtold you?”

“Jesus, Will—it was a really big deal in the industry. Dad’s industry. He knew people that were there—some guys who used to work road crew for Ransom were in that theater.”

Holy shit. Though when I really think about it, I guess it’s not that shocking. Dad’s been in the business for so long it sometimes seems like he knows everyone.

“She doing okay physically?” he asks.

“For the most part. She has some injuries and they affect her, but it doesn’t seem to be debilitating.”

“But she hasn’t gone back to work.” I can feel him studying my face in the darkness. “So there’s some emotional difficulties, I’m assuming.” When I don’t respond, he continues. “And those same difficulties are what’s making it tough for her to go all in with you?”

My brother is too damn perceptive for his own good. I throw some sand onto the wet ashes. “Pretty much.”

Wyatt grabs a stick to stir the mess, bringing up some more embers. He turns the hose on them.

“I gotta tell you, man,” he finally says “The way she looks at you, she doesn’t seem all that scared.”

I blow out a breath. “We messed around a while ago. Before the paparazzi shit storm.”

“Messed around huh?” I can hear the amusement in his voice. “You gonna give me any details?”

“Fuck off.” He laughs and I throw more sand at the fire. “She’s been… I don’t know. She’s seemed more comfortable since then.”

“But you haven’t talked to her.”

“Everything got pretty fucked up, Wyatt,” I say. “She’s barely been able to get back into her own house.”

He’s quiet for a minute, concentrating on the embers. I think the fire is pretty much out. “Yeah, that’s not it,” he finally says and I turn to face him.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not holding back because of the paparazzi.”

“Jesus, your wise old guru thing is getting damn old.”

He pushes my shoulder. “You’re holding back because you’re scared.”

I scowl at him. “Thanks for pointing that out. Again.”

“She’s nothing like Skye, Will.”