Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

RHYLAN

T hree days later…

The morning after we recorded the Demo for ‘Unless', Skylar snuck out of my bed, and back to her room. Leaving me alone with her scent still on my pillow. Her shape indented in the sheets.

The storm was almost past, but neither of us spoke about what happened the night before. She acted the same as she had when she first arrived. Feisty and defiant. Yet softer somehow. We wrote every night, then spent the night in our rooms. Across from each other.

Recorded a few more demos. Solo. And in the morning light, I fixed her coffee. Lunch. Then dinner.

The storm left minimal damage to the house and grounds, but a few places in town weren't as lucky. The new Prickly Pear that had just opened lost its new patio addition and part of the roof blew off. And up and down Main Street, a few blown out windows and torn off signs.

Skylar avoided me unless we were writing, or she was grabbing a bite in the kitchen. She still slept across the hall from me every night.

And like a damn lovesick teenager or a deranged stalker, I watched her do yoga at sunrise on the beach, or when she put on that damn tiny bikini and laid out on the pool deck. The days ticked by, one by one. The next-to-last day she would be here, I cornered her in the kitchen.

"Skylar."

Her back was to me as she took a bowl out of the cupboard and poured a bag of microwave popcorn into it. "Hmm?"

"We need to talk about what happened."

It was like I splashed cold water on her. She didn't turn around. "No, we don't."

I approached her calmly, like she was a wild animal that might run if I got too close. "Sparrow-"

"Please don't," she whispered. "This can't go anywhere. Not if you care at all."

"Why?"

She finally turned around, eyes tearing up. "You said it yourself, Rhylan. You own me. If this goes wrong, I lose it all. You'll be fine, but I won't."

I raked a hand through my hair and let out a breath. "You're wrong. I won't be fine. Ever. And what if it doesn't go wrong?"

"Then everyone will say I slept my way to getting a record deal with you. No one will take anything I do seriously. I don't even know why you did this." She grabbed the bowl, and walked away, then set it on the table before walking out the glass doors to the patio. Thank fuck she didn't go back to the guest house. I couldn't take it if she was any further away from me. She belonged in my arms, but at least if she was across the hall, I could get to her if I needed to.

"I did this," I said, following her, "because you don't belong where you were. Caged and not singing your songs. I did this because I fell for the girl who sang at that damn songwriters showcase like she would die if she never got to sing like that ever again. And I did this, despite the fact I sold my damn soul back to the label, because I believe in you."

She stopped and turned to face me. "What do you mean?"

Fuck. "Nothing."

"No, tell me. What do you mean you sold your soul back to the label?"

I linked my fingers behind my neck and stared up at the sky.

"Rhylan."

My head dropped as I admitted the truth in a low voice. "They get a percentage of the next album, plus royalties. Your contract was too lucrative with the songwriting clause. But I knew they would never release another album. They wanted you to write for other people. I couldn't let them."

"You did that…for me? But, I thought you were starting your label to-"

"I was," I said. "Then I saw you sing."

"You were there…at the showcase?"

I nodded.

"And if I would have never agreed to this or let you-"

"I would never stop you from releasing music that you believed in, Swallow."

We stood there, staring at each other. Neither saying a word.

"Rhylan, I can't-"

And the woman I loved turned and ran away. And I let her.

The next morning, a car came and took Skylar to the airport, and she left Sunrise Beach. And the place I loved became a place where her ghost haunted me.

Two weeks later…

Drew nudged my shoulder as I watched the downtown Nashville traffic speed by on the street below. The open wheel race was today, and I'd agreed to a pre-race concert with Jagger Sullivan earlier in the summer. We planned on singing the single that became my twenty-first number one. "You here"

"Where else would I be, Drew?"

He sighed. "Off wherever you go when you think about her. Like last week at the label announcement, or the tour kick off."

"Fuck." I hung my head. He was right, as much as I'd wanted to give him shit. "She sent over the rest of the lyrics, but she won't answer my calls. Or my texts." The crowd grew as fans began filing into the stage that was set up in front of the start finish line. "Jagger said she asked him to help with a few lines. Him. Not me."

Drew stuffed his hands in his pockets. "She isn't fucking him-" I shot him a death glare, but he ignored me. "And it's not like she didn't sign the contract you sent over."

The one that gave her fifty percent of any masters and royalties, plus an option to buy them outright after she recorded her second album for my label.

For ten dollars.

I'd had my lawyers draw up a contract after adding the out clause, which also gave her renegotiating rights. But she'd just signed the papers the same day and sent them back. Without a word.

Jagger ‘Van' Sullivan sent me a text last night, asking if I'd meet him before we sang. It wasn't like we needed to rehearse. We'd performed the song, ironically written by him and Skylar, on tour night after night for months.

A knock on the door interrupted any other conversation as Jagger popped his head in. "Rhylan! Thanks for meeting me. Man, I've missed your ugly face," he grinned.

"Fuck off," I said, a ghost of a smile on my mouth.

He clapped his hand together, then wiped his hands on his jeans, and flipped his hat forward.

"Don't waste that move on me. No adoring fans ready to throw their bras at you in here."

He chuckled. "Women can be scary."

"Definitely can." I'd toured enough with Van to know there was something on his mind. "Spill it before I get any older."

He huffed out a breath. "So, I've been talking to Sky, and-"

I growled, and Van stopped, eyes wide. Drew cleared his throat. "Go on. Ignore the asshole, here."

He paced back and forth, and I was about to lay him out when he said, "I optioned my clause in my contract."

I stilled. "What?"

He nodded. "I know this lawyer. She's pretty badass and works for a friend of the family. Miranda looked over my contract when I first signed. She had a termination clause built in if the label denied certain conditions."

"Like?"

"Letting me record with other artists."

"But, we did."

" We did," he agreed. "But when I wanted to record with Sky, they said no. On top of a few other things, like events for my primary sponsor, Falling Leaves. Some clauses even I don't understand. But, when Ainsley and Sky met me for lunch the other day and explained what you did for her-"

"You met Skylar for lunch?"

Drew rolled his eyes. "You would get stuck on that. Keep going, Van."

He looped his hands behind his neck. "Talon put in a penalty clause. Miranda renegotiated the terms."

"Van," I growled.

"The long and short? You no longer have any link to Talon Records. And I'd love to take you up on that offer to sign with your label now instead after my next album."

The room fell silent as I digested what he said. I'd resigned myself to not being free, as long as Skylar was. "You did what?"

"Sky told me how you bought out her contract even though it meant Talon still owned a part of your royalties or whatever. She refused to give me all the details. And Ainsley is not someone you want to cross. So, I asked for a favor. Like I said, women are scary. Wait until you meet Miranda." He huffed out a breath. "So, ready to sing?"