Chapter 9
Indy
Despite the fact that last night had gone so well, I was a bundle of nerves the next morning.
I chalked the tension at dinner to typical family drama.
I didn’t know all the details, but it sounded like Dylan had a dysfunctional relationship with his dad.
He hadn’t wanted to talk about it anymore, and I respected his privacy.
For the most part, I’d liked everyone last night.
It’d been the first time since I’d moved to California that I truly felt like I belonged.
Moving in with Dad had been weird. Awkward.
Tense. And that was when he’d been home.
Most of the time he’d been AWOL, out partying with the guys.
That I’d found a sense of home with Dylan and his family had filled me with a weird juxtaposition of emotions I hadn’t even really labeled just yet.
This morning, I had all of a cup of coffee and a piece of toast in my stomach, and I was seriously worried I’d see it again. Clutching my churning stomach with one hand, I looked sightlessly out the window on my right.
“I usually ride my bike into work. We can do that next time if you want. You’d just need to carry a backpack with all our shit.” His eyes never left the road as he spoke.
I cleared my throat. “I, uh, if you want. I’ve been on the back of a bike before so I’m not scared.”
“Really?” For the first time since we got into the car, Dylan turned toward me since we were idling at a red light. “I feel like there’s a story there. Boyfriend?”
My lip curled on its own volition. “No. Gross. My dad.”
“Ah. You know you haven’t talked too much about him…”
“Ditto,” I retorted, folding my arms over my chest. I don’t know if I’d ever be comfortable talking about my dad with him.
“Touché.” Dylan turned back to the windshield with a slight smile. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, ya know? Everyone was charmed by you last night. Just keep being you—that’s all anyone expects.”
“And the cameras?” I didn’t think it would be possible to be myself while someone filmed my every move and word. Someone—lots of someones—watching me.
So creepy.
He sighed. “They’re a pain in the ass. But we’re keeping them around for now.
Technically, they’re keeping the lights on and getting us contacts with new clients.
I, uh, kinda burned a bridge with one of our clients—our biggest client pre-television show.
So we need the cameras. As fucking annoying as they are. ”
I nodded, but the knot in my stomach tightened the closer we got to the shop.
“It’ll be fine.”
I couldn’t tell if Dylan was saying it to himself or me. But before I could ask, we pulled into the alley behind the paint shed.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears. I don’t know why I was so nervous. I’d met all the guys last night, and like Nathan had said, we had immediate sibling vibes.
It’d be fine. I was just making it weird and blowing everything out of proportion.
I gave him a weak smile after we’d exited the car. My eyes lingered for a second on our mural and I couldn’t deny the pride I felt when I saw it. I did that, and he made it awesome.
It calmed me somewhat as we walked toward the main front door. He pulled the door open for me, and I gave him a slight smile in thanks as I passed him.
“Seriously, Dylan?” Austin yelled. “Was that apology last night just lip service? What the fuck were you thinking?”
I jumped.
Dylan put a hand on my shoulder before stepping in front of me. “What the hell? What’s your fucking problem?”
“You fucking painted that on the side of our building?” From ten feet away, Austin gestured angrily as he closed the distance between us. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I flinched. Crap. “Uh, actually—”
“I was bored Friday night.” Dylan cut me off and then shrugged like it was no big deal. “And I was feeling artistic.”
“It’s disrespectful. What is James going to turn it into when he shows up in an hour? You really want to reenact this in front of the cameras? Because you know he’ll want it for the show.”
Dylan hitched a shoulder. “It’ll give him something to film and keep him off Indy’s case. I don’t have a problem with it. Why do you?”
My stomach twisted as Austin gave his brother this look like he was ashamed of him and didn’t know who the hell he’d turned into.
I should say something, but Dylan had made it clear that he wanted to take the bullet for me.
Would speaking up make it worse? I didn’t really know enough about their dynamic to say for sure.
And Austin’s rage had my flight or fight response maxed out. I wanted to fly out of here so bad.
“How about we set up Indy in the conference room with the paperwork and then hash it out?” Dylan said blandly.
“You’re seriously going to leave it up?” he asked incredulously. “You won’t paint over it?”
Dylan shook his head.
Austin huffed out an irritated breath. “Fine. We’ll finish this conversation when the crew gets here.”
“Fine with me,” Dylan returned mockingly.
“Indy, the conference room is this way,” Austin directed, gesturing to the hall on the left.
“We’ll meet you there,” Dylan answered for me. Again.
“Fine.” Austin shook his head again, then stomped toward the conference room.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t worry about it. I told you I was willing to take the heat on it, and I meant that. I’m used to them being pissed at me. And I am the one who made it specific to us.”
“You don’t know what my plans were for it. I didn’t exactly get to finish it.”
His lips quirked. “Touché.”
“I still don’t like that they’re mad at you for something I did. It’s not right.”
“It’s funny and well done. You should be proud of it. I know I am.” Then he gave this look that had me holding my breath. Like he saw me. Actually saw me and liked what he found there.
Tears blurred my eyes for a moment, and I shook my head, breaking the moment, as I struggled to get my emotions under control.
“Ah, we should get to that paperwork.” And then he headed for the hallway like someone was lowkey chasing him.
After a beat, I followed him at a much slower pace.
* * *
Dylan hadn’t been exaggerating—James was a dick of the highest order.
He’d taken one look at me when we came into the shop and asked, “who the fuck is the kid?”
“Our new receptionist,” Austin returned laconically.
James huffed. “Since when? I have a casting call scheduled this week.”
“Exactly.” Austin raised his eyebrows. “We want someone with functioning braincells working with us.”
“Because it’s such a hard job?” James snarked, before turning to me. “Are you even legal?”
“Whoa!” Dylan jumped in front of me and raised his palms. “What the fuck is wrong with you? What the hell kinda question is that?”
“A required one. We can’t film anyone under eighteen. She has to sign a contact and a waiver with production, so she’s gotta be a legal adult.”
“She’s a college student, James.” Austin gave him a deadpan look. “Second year.”
“I, uh, I’m nineteen,” I mumbled.
“What?” James put his hand to his ear. “I can’t hear you, sweetheart.” Then turned to Austin. “Seriously? This is who you hire? How am I supposed to film someone who can’t even speak for herself?”
“Then don’t.” Austin crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s here to answer the phone and keep the crazies out of our way. She doesn’t have to provide content for the fucking show. It’s supposed to be about the bikes and us brothers.”
“Or—and I’m just spitballing here—” Dylan pulled a funny face. “Maybe you can put a microphone on her like you do with us.”
James’ eyes flicked to Dylan briefly before turning back to Austin. “Speaking of brothers, what’s with the new addition to the paint shed? Anyone want to comment on that?”
Austin’s eyes flicked to Dylan even as his face remained blank.
Dylan shrugged. “We thought you’d want us to wait for you before we talked about it.”
“So it’s not a random tagging? It’s, you haven’t…” James practically vibrated with excitement as he connected the dots.
It would’ve been funny if I wasn’t so torn up with guilt.
“Wait, who all is here?” James’ gaze bounced around the room.
“So far, just us, but Nathan and Ryan should be here in a minute or two. We just came in early to plow through the paperwork with Indy.”
“Indy? Seriously, that’s your name?” James’ nose wrinkled with his opinioned tone.
I didn’t even bother to respond. I let my eyeroll do my talking for me.
James blinked a few times. “Right. I have some paperwork you’ll need to fill out, too, Indy. I’ll have someone pull it out for you. In the meantime, we’ll set up at the mural and start taping when the rest of you get here.”
He pivoted on his heel and all but bounced out of the room as the drama over the mural filled him with purpose.
“Right.” Austin sighed. “So there’s that.”
“You holding up okay, kiddo?” Dylan asked me.
“Is he always such a tool?” I settled onto the chair behind the receptionist’s desk with a groan.
Austin’s lips quirked. “Pretty much.”
“I would’ve called him an ass, but yes.” Dylan hitched a shoulder.
“Fantastic,” I groaned. “I forgot to ask, but does the job come with hazard pay, or am I just supposed to swallow my words all the time?”
“Not sure how to take that.” Austin cocked his head. “Hazard pay because we’re always fighting or hazard pay for having to deal with that jackass?” He nodded toward the door James had left through.
“The jackass.” I laughed. “I’m used to dealing with hotheaded boys.”
Dylan sent me a searching look like he wanted to know more about the last half of my statement, but I avoided his eyes and trained my gaze on Austin.
“Then yeah. You’ll get two paychecks here. One from us and one from the network. But don’t ever feel like you have to swallow your words with us or him. We want you to be yourself.”
“That’s what I told her.” Dylan continued to give me that look like he was trying to figure me out.
“Well despite that, it’s true.” Austin sneered. “Sound will be here in a minute to mic us all up, and someone should be by with your release and another contract. Let me know if you have any questions about the lawyer-y language.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about that. She’s pretty smart. She’s at UC Davis on a full scholarship,” Dylan retorted.
Austin frowned. “How’s that going to work with your schedule here? What’s your class load?”
“She’s—”
I cut Dylan off. “Can I speak for myself? I mean, I’m right here.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded tightly.
“Sorry, I’m just sick of everyone here talking about me and around me. Like I’m not even here.”
“That’s more about our dysfunction than anything to do with you.” Austin shook his head. “But you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” Dylan muttered, his eyes burning with something he wanted to say but held back.
“I’m in my second year at Davis, but when everything went to hell, I couldn’t keep up my schedule.
I haven’t talked to my advisor—and I’m also car-less—but I’m hoping to get a hardship deferral, so they’ll let me keep my scholarship moving forward.
Otherwise I can’t afford tuition there. I’m an out-of-state student. ”
“Shit.” Austin rubbed the back of his neck.
“I’ve put a call in to your department chair. Hopefully someone gets back to me this week.” Dylan cocked his head and suddenly was the one who couldn’t meet my gaze as he studiously studied the toes of his boots.
I…didn’t know what to say to that. I should probably feel irritated that he hadn’t talked to me first, but honestly I…was grateful. I’d been putting it off for so long because I was ashamed. I hated that I was in this position, needing charity and handouts. It grated at everything inside me.
“Thank you,” I finally whispered.
Dylan nodded tightly, still unable to look at me, and I didn’t really understand why.
“Uh, right.” Austin cleared his throat. “Well, we’ll figure it out I guess when the time comes. Like I said, this’ll be a probationary period. But I have a feeling you’ll be able to hold your own. And if you have any questions, you can ask any of us. I swear our bark is worse than our bite.”
I smiled weakly at his dumb joke.
“And here’s the sound crew,” Austin muttered right before the door opened again and more people came streaming in.
“And so it begins. Duh duh duuuuun,” Dylan whispered theatrically.
This time, my laughter wasn’t fake.
Dylan’s eyes twinkled at me, and I shook my head slightly. Something about that look made my heart pound in my ears. It had nothing to do with the contract I would have to read through in a minute or the determined sound guy approaching with a case of equipment.
But I didn’t want to examine that too closely.
Just stuff your feelings down until you forgot all about them.
Until he did something sweet. Or walked around being all…him.
Gah.
“Everything okay?” Dylan asked, his head tilted in concern.
I blinked back into the present, where the sound guy was holding out a mic pack to me, and judging by the concerned looks on everyone’s faces, he’d been holding it out for a minute.
“Uh yeah.” I shook my head and took the pack from the guy. “Just thinking about contracts.”
“Yeah, that makes my eyes glaze over too.” Austin sent me an encouraging smile.
But Dylan didn’t say anything; he just continued to frown as he watched the sound guy mic me up.
And I felt his gaze on me the entire time.
This stuffing feelings thing was going to be next to impossible.