Chapter 32
Ryleigh
We don’t talk at all on the drive to the hotel or as we drop our things in our room. I change into shorts and a tank top since it’s another scorching August day, and then we head down to the bus. We’re the first ones there and settle into seats in the back. Hopefully, we’ll have a few minutes alone before anyone else joins us.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks me right away. “Because it’s killing me.”
I nod and pull in a deep breath, slowly letting it out.
“Babe, don’t you trust me?” There’s so much sincerity in his voice it makes tears puddle in my eyes.
“I do,” I whisper. “The question is whether or not you trust me.”
“I do.” He doesn’t hesitate.
“Okay, so we have to go back to the beginning. Rich didn’t put me here to cover you guys. My assignment was to get the scoop on Lexi’s pregnancy and how it’s going to impact Nobody’s Fool. But he couldn’t get me here for them, so he used your newness, and mine, to put me on the tour.”
“Makes sense.” Angus shrugs. “And then you got Lexi to willingly give you the story.”
I nod. “Yup. But it turned out to be a non-story lacking drama or dissidence within the ranks. Everyone is excited for her, Kirsten is their good friend who’ll step in if Lexi can’t perform, end of story, everyone gets their HEA.”
“HEA?” he asks in confusion.
“Happily ever after.”
“Okay.” He frowns. “So then…?”
“But that was around the same time the story about your identity broke and… that was my fault.”
“ You outed me?” he asks in confusion.
I nod miserably. “You’d just turned me down when I asked you to do a video for me so I was annoyed. I’d gone looking for you, to give you a piece of my mind, and I was getting on the bus when you were talking with Alden. You and I weren’t really friends yet, so I listened and…then I stupidly told Rich what I heard.” I close my eyes, shaking my head. “So fucking stupid. And he ran with it. He found the records of you legally changing your name and put the story on the online version of the magazine.”
“Is this what’s had you so out of sorts lately?” he asks gently, cupping my chin. “Babe, that feels like a lifetime ago. And like you said, we didn’t have a relationship yet. You were here to do a story, and you got one.”
“Yeah, I know.” I pause. “But that’s not entirely what I’m talking about. Unfortunately, I’m not done.”
“There’s more.” Wariness creeps into his tone, his blue eyes shrouded. Worried.
I really hate that I put that look there after what he’s just gone through with his family.
But now that I’ve started, there’s no going back.
“So much more.” I rub my temples, fighting off a headache. “Anyway, Rich was super excited that I finally got something newsworthy. So he decided we needed to go with a version of what we told Sasha in the first place. I needed to write a story about a new band, discovering the ins and outs of success while on their first tour—and the implications after they discovered that their drummer had literally been lying to them since day one. He was gleeful, thinking this would be something worth featuring, something no one else had.”
He doesn’t say anything now, simply watching me as I continue.
“But as you know, it didn’t turn out to be the big deal we thought it would be and there truly wasn’t much for me to write about. I mean, there are lots of wonderful things to write about, and I did talk to the guys about how they felt about what you did, but when I sent Rich my notes he was less than impressed. He told me to keep digging, because he has a source telling him that you guys are on the verge of breaking up. As soon as this tour is over.” I hesitate. “And now I think he has multiple sources because I overheard something when we were in Minnesota.”
He doesn’t look surprised. “My mother? Jesus fucking Christ.”
I nod.
He seems to be thinking. “And Callum has to be the other—even though he doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.”
“I don’t know for sure, or how, but yes, that’s what I think. Taryn did tell me that Callum was telling people that Crimson Edge was going to break up.”
“I see.” He looks disturbed but not angry.
“But now I’ve made a decision.”
His eyes find mine. “I’m not writing the story Rich wants—I’m writing the story I want to write. About a band of brothers who plays incredible music. About friendship and secrets and clawing your way to the top. I… well, it’s not done, but you can read it if you want. If you’re still talking to me.”
He stares at me for what feels like a long time even though it’s probably only a minute or so. Then he brushes my hair back from my face, trailing his fingers along my cheek.
“The first time I saw you, I knew you were going to be trouble. For me, for the band, I wasn’t sure—there was just something about you. But it was a magnetic force I couldn’t deny, no matter how hard I tried. The first time I touched you I knew I was a goner. That’s why I left that night we first slept together—I was overwhelmed by how much I wanted you. How much I wanted to be with you. And it was about way more than sex.”
“I’m sorry I lied… I just, there’s so much riding on this.”
“I’m the last person who can say anything about keeping secrets,” he says, shaking his head. “I love you, Ryleigh. It’s been a whirlwind, but I’ve never had these kinds of feelings for anyone else.”
“And I started falling in love with you when I was sick,” I admit. “The way you were almost militant about taking care of me… it’s been a long time since someone mothered me, for lack of a better word. You, Kirsten, the others… everyone has been so wonderful. You guys are like extended family, something I’ve never had, and it’s beautiful to watch. That’s what I want to reflect in my story.”
“I’m okay with that.”
I shift uncomfortably because I haven’t told him the worst part yet. Or maybe it’s not. I can’t imagine how he’s going to feel.
“What else, Ryleigh?”
Obviously, he knows me well.
“I went for a walk while you were talking to your dad.”
“At the house?”
I nod. “The day we got there. I was sitting by the pool, relaxing, and I heard voices.”
“Ah, Jesus.” He rolls his eyes. “This is what you meant when you said you overheard something?”
I nod miserably.
“It couldn’t be my dad since I was with him… my sister?”
I shake my head. “No. Your mother and…Uncle Alex.”
“Uncle Alex?” His eyes widen. “Seriously? Fuck. What now?”
“Look, I was eavesdropping. I have no way of knowing what’s what. But basically your uncle was angry that your mother refuses to let him tell you the truth.”
“About what?”
This is hard.
I know he doesn’t want to be a Hollingsworth. Hell, he legally changed his name. But this is huge. Finding out your father isn’t your father and that your uncle has been sleeping with your mother behind his back?
“Ryleigh?”
“About who your father is.”
“Excuse me?” He stares at me in disbelief. “What did you just say?”
“Your mother and Alex have been having an affair on and off, from what I gathered. And he’s your?—”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” He stands up and glares at me. “You’re not serious.”
“I am. I’m sorry.”
“Motherfucker.” He runs a hand through his hair and turns away, staring at something at the front of the bus. “Looks like we’re not alone anymore.” He looks down at me. “Who did you tell?”
“No one.” I frown at him. “I swear to you. No one. And I’m turning in my article tomorrow. You can read it and watch me email it to Rich.”
“My fucking mother,” he mutters, sinking down next to me again as some of the others get onto the bus.
“She didn’t do it alone,” I say gently.
“I know.”
“And also…” I bite my lip as his head snaps up.
“There’s more?” he demands incredulously.
“It’s just… I took… before we left the restaurant, I stole your uncle’s wine glass.”
He just stares at me. “You did what?”
“I took his wine glass. So you can… if you wanted to do a paternity test.”
He looks shocked and then he throws back his head and laughs.
“This right here is why I love you.” He presses his lips to mine firmly.
“You’re not mad?” I ask breathlessly when we pull apart.
“Well, you had nothing to do with my lying bitch of a mother,” he says dryly. “And stealing that glass just makes my life easier. I can have a definitive answer, just in case you misunderstood, before I decide whether or not I want to confront anyone.”
“Your uncle wants to tell you but it seems like your mom is holding something over his head. She said he’ll be sorry if he ruins her marriage and takes away her ability to be the matriarch of the family.”
He scowls. “Figures. Sadly, none of this surprises me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And you told no one? Taryn? Kirsten? Anyone at all?”
“No one.” I thrust my phone at him. “I swear it. You can look at all my texts, email, anything you want.”
He searches my face for a moment but then pushes the phone back at me. “I don’t need to look. I trust you.”
God, I love this man with my whole being.
He loved me before I came clean, and he still loves me now.
I wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I lied to you, and I’m sorry I eavesdropped on your mom. And that I stole the wine glass. And I’m sorry about everything. I just wanted so badly to get this job—and health insurance—and have a career my dad would be proud of.”
“I know, baby. But most of this isn’t your fault.” He wraps his arms around me and I hold on for dear life.
He’s not mad.
He loves me.
And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I never give him any reason not to.