Page 77 of Worth the Fight

“Besides the fact I’m still pissed at you for telling Jett where I was? Other than that, yes, everything is fine.”

“You know I meant no harm by it.”

“Uh-huh.” I set the box down and grab a scissors to cut the tape on its edges.

“Callum was antsy. Jett was freaking because of it. I tried to fix the situation.”

“And picking up the phone was not an option, why?”

I lift the top of the box up and hold back a cry of surprise to find what looks like two dozen pale pink roses. I stare at them for a beat as memories flood back—memories I don’t want—before picking up the card resting atop them and turn it over in my hands.

“Dylan? Are you there?”

“Yes? What? Sorry. I was distracted.”

“Apparently.”

“I’m still mad at you.” I stare at the flowers and feel . . . unsettled.

“You’ll forgive me.”

“Ha.” I shake my head and turn my back to the flowers so I can concentrate for a moment. “Is there a reason you called or is this a social call?”

“How are the songs coming along?”

“Over half are completed, but you already know this because I’m sure you spoke to Jett already, right? So what’s going on?”

“Callum is getting a little nervous that you’re not around.”

“I’m sending him songs, about one a week. He can’t be unhappy with that.” I’m irritated and frustrated. I’m ahead of schedule and still being questioned.

“Yeah, but⁠—”

“Christ. What did he do this time?” The hesitation has dread dropping into the pit of my stomach.

“Would anything surprise you at this point?”

“No.”

“He had some time with Kai in the studio. He wanted to work on some tracks and there was a bit of a tantrum and some storming out.”

Fuck.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh audibly. “So what are you telling me?”

“Kai and Callum want you present at the next scheduled studio time.”

“When?” She can hear my anger, but she knows it’s not directed at her.

“I don’t know but I’ll get an answer and let you know.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“I know, Dylan. I know.”

I end the call, toss my cell on the counter, and then stare at the card for a minute before tearing it open.

I miss you. Do you miss me yet? Come back home and let’s start over. I love you.