Page 26 of Fight For Me

“You didn’t have that,” Fox argues. “You guys got to make all your own choices about your careers.”

Reed, Daltrey, Cash, and my dad all laugh. “No, kid,” Uncle Cash says. “We didn’t. Have you ever met your grandfather? You think he let us just go off on our own and do whatever?”

“That was different,” Everly grumbles. “He was your manager. He was making decisions for the band, too.”

“We also had that guy,” Daltrey says, pointing to my dad. “Levi was the bridge between our dad and us, the label and us, the fans and us, the crew and us, the media and us. I could go on and on. You think we could have done anything without him having our back? We would have failed in the first year.”

“So you want Wyatt to be our Uncle Levi,” Fox mutters.

“We just want you to have someone here while you’re doing this. Someone you trust.”

“It’s not like he’s going to be around all the time,” my dad points out. “He’ll be pretty busy with his physical therapy.”

“And visiting me,” Cash cuts in, grinning wide down the table at his oldest son. “I’ve got so many plans, kid. We can surf and play video games and go to Disneyland…”

For the entirety of this discussion, Wyatt has sat at the end of the table with a completely blank expression, barely meeting anyone’s eyes. Now, for the first time, I see the corners of his lips twitch as his ridiculous father goes on and on about all the things they’ll do together, like a manic camp director planning an overpacked summer of fun.

It’s crazy how just that tiny movement—the barest hint of a smile—sends my stomach into cartwheels. It helps that Wyatt Warner has the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen in my life. The fact that he doesn’t bestow it all that often—at least in my presence—makes it even more appealing. But it’s more than that. It’s the way he reacts to his dad. Even when silly and over-the-top, the love Wyatt has for Cash is so evident in that tiny lip twitch. It makes me want to follow him around for days, eyes focused on his mouth, discovering what other things in his life bring out that reaction of pure, uncomplicated affection.

“What’s in it for you?” I blurt out, and Wyatt raises his eyes. I can see the exact moment that he realizes that I’ve been watching him. He always seems to know. His brown eyes seem darker than usual as he stares at me. I wish I could read the emotion in them.

Then he lowers his head, making me feel strangely bereft at the loss of those eyes.

“It’s like they said—I need a place to stay.” He glances around the swanky condo. “This place is a little over the top for my tastes, but it does beat the bunkbeds.”

“Hey!” Cash objects.

Wyatt ignores him, looking around at us—well, looking at Fox and Everly. His gaze flits right past me with barely a pause. “I promise I won’t get in your way. I’ll just be around in case you need anything.”

Everly turns to her dad. “And if we agree to this, you’re going to stop being such a douche canoe?”

He scowls. “Since when are you allowed to call me a douche canoe?”

She shrugs. “Since you started acting like one.”

“You think I’m acting like a douche canoe?” It’s such a ridiculous phrase to be coming out of my intimidating uncle, and he says it so forlornly, that I can’t help but laugh. Soon the others are laughing too, and some of the tension shifts.

Reed reaches over and takes Everly’s hand. “This will make me feel a lot better, Lele. If you agree to this, I promise I’ll work on being less douchey.”

She grins, and I can see the relief wash over his face. River wasn’t kidding the other day about Reed’s girls having him wrapped around their fingers. I didn’t realize how much strain he was under, knowing Everly was upset with him, until I see it vanish from his eyes.

“Deal,” she says.

Everyone turns their attention to Fox, who still looks pissed. Uncle Lennon happens to pass by at that minute, a laughing Cadence clinging to his back. “Why aren’t you in this meeting?” Fox calls out to him.

Lennon snorts. “I’m staying far away from the whole thing. I’m neutral. I’m Switzerland.”

“You’re a cowardly little bitch!” Cash calls after him.

“Swear jar!” Cecelia shouts, popping up next to her father.

“Shit!” he yells, smacking a hand over his heart. “Where did you even come from? You scared the sh—crap out of me.”

She gives him a purely evil grin. “Too late. Five for the s word and ten for the b word.”

“Why ten?”

“Because Mommy says it’s not just a swear word but it’s also megalomaniac.”