2
Jay
Six days earlier
“Hey, hey! You’ve reached Aimee, and I’m either out bungee jumping or home taking a nap, so leave a message and have a brilliant day!”
My sister’s voicemail.Again.
I looked out the window of the Denver studio I’d been bankrolling for my sister, stared at the snowy Front Range in the distance, and low-key wanted to cry.
Aimee was sure as heck not home taking a nap, I could tell you that much. I’d flown into town a few days ago to surprise her—and yes, to get the hell away from New York and the fallout of the “Jayd is Gay!” tabloid pictures that still haunted me there—and she hadn’t been home at all yet.
Then again, I was pretty sure this apartment wasn’t her home.
In fact, if the rental company hadn’t sent me a spare key when I signed the lease for her sixteen months ago, I might have thought I was in the wrong place entirely, because looking around the apartment with its lumpy futon, empty closets, and inches of dust, it was obvious no one had been living here for a while. Months, maybe.
Aimee had moved out… and hadn’t told me.
What the hell had happened to her? And, maybe more importantly, what had happened tous?
The two Rollins kids, always looking out for one another, always each other’s greatest champions… Not so much anymore. And I was pretty sure it was all my fault.
“Hey. Jay again.” I clutched the phone tightly. “Just wanted to let you know I’m still here. In Denver. I’m back at your… the apartment. And I know you hate it when I’m overprotective and all up in your business, but Aim,where are you?”
I sat down heavily on the futon. “Look, I get that you’re upset at me, okay? I don’t blame you. I… have not been the best brother recently.” Or even a half-decent brother. “I know we haven’t talked much lately, except right after that tabloid article came out.” I winced. “And I know how much it hurt you to find out I was gay from BlazeNewz. It’s been hard for us to connect the past few months, what with your job, and me on tour and traveling all the time—”
Excuses and lies. Lies and excuses. I was sick of it.
“I haven’tmadetime the way I should have,” I said truthfully. “And there are reasons for that, and they’re probably terrible reasons, but I’d really like to talk to you about them. Be honest with you about them. Maybe get us back on track to where we used to be, but better? I’ve messed up so many things, like…”
Like being a jealous fuckup who couldn’t handle Rafe choosing you, which was why I never made it to your wedding or went back to the Key to visit.
Like focusing on my career all these years and disappearing from your life, just like Dad, so now I’ve got a big pile of money and hardly anyone I can trust.
Like being such a petty bastard that I agreed to play this concert on Whispering Key over Labor Day weekend, just so I could show Rafe Goodman how happy and successful I am without him, and conveniently overlooked the fact that I’d have tobearoundRafe freakin’ Goodman for the entire weekend.
Like going out to a gay bar a few weeks ago because I was lonely, when I knew better than to think there was anywhere I could be anonymous anymore, especially in the city.
I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. “Well, there are too many things to count, really. But I love you. That’s the most important thing. And I really hope you’ll call me—”
The recording cut off with a long, shrillbeep.
“—back,” I whispered into the empty room. “Fuck.”
I threw myself down on the futon and groaned up at the ceiling. The metal frame beneath me creaked ominously, but honestly, if the whole thing collapsed, that would probably be an improvement.
A metaphor for my life, I thought gloomily.
My phone rang in my hand, and I answered it immediately. “Aimee?”
“Jayd!Finally.” That cultured, perpetually impatient voice didnotbelong to my sister but to my agent. “You’ve been ducking my calls again.”
Yes, I had. For five days and counting, damn it, and now my streak was at an end. I scrunched up my face. “Nonsense! I love talking with you, Debbie! I wouldneverduck your calls. I’m actually out of town. Family business—”
“No doubt,” she said, in a bland voice that conveyed nothing but doubt. “Listen, the people atGood Morning USAcalled again. I’m thinking a very tasteful interview—it’s morning television, you know? There’ll be none of those salacious questions you don’t want—and then we can get started rescheduling the tour dates—”
“No.”
