Page 7 of Fight For Me

“Oh, Lord.” My dad’s older brother, Reed, walks up to join us. “You know this is his most enduring wish, right? To have all his kids back under the same roof?”

“Yeah, Wyatt.“ Their younger brother Lennon joins us. “You have the power to make all his dreams come true.”

Dad scowls at his brothers. “Real easy for the two of you to say—none of your kids have moved out yet.” He sighs dramatically, looking over at me. “First you, kid, then your brother had to get that damn apartment.” He tightens his arm around my mom. “Silas and CeCe are never leaving the house.”

She smiles up at him. It’s faint, but it’s the first real smile I’ve seen on her face in days. “And how are you going to accomplish that?”

He shrugs. “Figure I’ll lock them in their rooms the day they turn eighteen.”

My mom laughs softly, but both Reed and Lennon are looking like it isn’t the worst idea they’ve ever heard.

Anyone who followed their early days of rock and roll stardom might be surprised to hear it, but the famous Ransome brothers are nothing if not overprotective of their kids. Somewhere around the time they switched their focus to the record label they founded, the four of them became very domestic. I swear, they like nothing better than being at home with all the kids under the same roof. Barbecues and movie nights are a far cry from the partying and wild antics they used to get up to as rock stars, but they all seem pretty damn happy with their lives—so long as their kids don’t stray too far from home.

So far, I’m the only one who’s done any real straying, first at Julliard and then when I took the symphony position in Seattle, and I don’t think my dad ever quite got over it. The idea of him locking the younger kids in their rooms isn’t all that farfetched, knowing him.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you psychopaths to discuss the best way to imprison your offspring,” I say, beginning to edge away. Reed stops me with a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“Not so fast. Don’t think we came over here to rescue you from his nagging.”

“Right,” Lennon agrees, his expression serious. “Weallwant you to come home.”

“Wyatt’s coming home?”

I turn to see Daltrey, the youngest Ransome brother, approaching. He wears a hopeful expression on his face, and I stifle a groan. Excellent. All four of them are going to be on my case. Just what I need.

Then I realize that Levi is next to Daltrey, and my entire body tenses.

“He’s concerned about where he’s going to live,” Reed explains, like LA is a foregone conclusion. “For some reason he doesn’t want to bunk in his childhood bedroom.”

Levi grins at me, his eyes dancing with amusement. He knows exactly how annoying his best friends can be when they get something in their heads, and he loves nothing more than to rag on the Ransome brothers. “Can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to move back in with your parents at your age.”

I try to laugh, but the sound comes out strained.At your age. An age that is in no way suitable for dating this man’s daughter.

Stop it,I tell myself.That’s not something you should even be thinking about.

“Who said you had to live at home?” Daltrey asks. “They do have apartments in LA, kid.”

“Or we could get you a house.” Dad turns to Reed, looking excited. “Isn’t the Gilbert place around the block from you for sale?”

“Oh, Jesus,” I groan, looking over at my Mom. She’s watching me, clearly trying not to laugh at their antics. “A little help?”

“I don’t think Wyatt needs a six-bedroom McMansion, babe,” she says to my dad. Then her expression grows serious. “But an apartment nearby sounds pretty reasonable.”

“Hang on.” I hold up a hand. “I never said—”

They all talk right over me, already making plans for what neighborhoods they should check out on my behalf when they get back to LA.

Levi shakes his head at me. “May as well just go with it, kid. You know they’re not dropping this.”

I have a pretty good feeling he wouldn’t be encouraging me to come home if he knew the reason I want to stay away.

Without conscious thought, my gaze drifts away from the group around me until it lands on her. Alex is sitting on the far side of the room with Everly, Reed’s oldest daughter, and Fox, Daltrey’s middle son. Everly is talking to Fox, her demeanor far more subdued than the bubbly cheerfulness I’m used to from her. Alex doesn’t appear to be listening to them, her gaze locked on the floor, and I wonder what she’s thinking about.

I always wonder what she’s thinking about. Anytime I’m near her, I find myself staring at her, wondering what’s going on in that head. Of course, it’s hard not to stare when someone that beautiful is nearby, but it’s more than that. I want to know things about her—know what she thinks and feels. What makes her happy. What she’s afraid of. I want to know—

As if feeling my eyes on her, she looks up, her gaze immediately locking with mine. For a second, it feels like I can’t breathe, like all the air is sucked out of the room. I’m barely conscious of the people surrounding me. Barely conscious of anything but Alex and her calm, steady gaze.

“I’m not coming home,” I blurt out, not realizing how loud I was until the silence around me registers. It takes a lot to get my dad and his brothers to shut up when they’re on a roll, so I must have practically shouted it. Jesus.