“No, we’ve been pretty lucky.” I glance around the empty waiting room. “It’s a miracle no one is in here now, but they could be. I ran into some fans in the cafeteria. They took a picture.”

“Why’d you go in there?” Bristol pushes a frustrated breath past her lips. “Okay, let’s see if there’s anything out there.”

She types for a few seconds, her brows bunching then clearing.

“Let me guess.” She raises and rolls her eyes. “Mrs. Rhyson Gray?”

“That’s her.” I grab Kai’s hand so she doesn’t drift off. “Maybe it’ll be nothing.”

“This already has a hundred retweets.”

“It was five minutes ago. What the hell?”

“That’s an eternity these days.” Bristol pulls out her phone. “I’ll arrange a security detail and get a statement prepared for why you’re at the hospital.”

I scratch the back of my neck.

“Uh . . . I kinda told them my father was sick.”

“Wow, did you give them the house security code too?” Bristol twists her lips into a grimace. “Maybe they’d like to pick through your trash or rustle around in your underwear drawer.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” I sit down, pulling Kai beside me.

“It’s okay. I’ll handle it.” Bristol stands and starts walking away. “I actually prefer a problem I can solve instead of all this waiting.”

As Bristol starts her conversation with the security company we always use, I lean back in the seat, pulling Kai back with me until her head rests on my shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here.” I look at Grady, who sits across from us. “You too, Grady.”

“Where’s Angela?” Grady looks like he left half of himself in a different time zone.

“Mom will be here soon.”

I haven’t spoken to either of my parents since the Christmas bloodbath. If it hadn’t been for my dad’s heart attack, considering our track record, it probably would have been years before we connected again. I don’t know how it will feel to see her again so soon. Circumstances like these often supersede strife, at least temporarily. Look at Kai and me. I thought I’d have to beg her to even let me into her apartment, and here she is curled up against me. I pull her closer and kiss her hair. She looks up from my shoulder, her wide mouth drawing a sober line on her face.

“How you holding up?” she asks, her voice low. Her fingers lock with mine on her knee.

“I honestly don’t know. I think I’m blocking it. If I let myself think too long about my dad dying . . .” I don’t finish, swallowing the fear scaling the walls of my belly and making its way up my throat. “I was such an asshole at Christmas.”

“From what you told me, you all said things you didn’t mean.”

I shake my head, unable to let myself off that hook.

“I meant every word, Kai. I bet they did too. I just wish I hadn’t said them. I wish we didn’t feel them, that we’d worked through our shit before something like this happened. What if . . .”

I can’t even voice it. If my dad dies, there’s no second chance. There’s no redemption.

“You know what’s crazy?” The small laugh I manage tastes bitter on my lips. “I had this idea that one day we’d make things right. It’d be years from now. Maybe he’d come to one of my concerts. You know. Come backstage or something, and tell me that he . . .”

I’m not saying it aloud. The weak words that would admit the ten-year-old boy who almost pissed himself the first time he played in front of thousands but did it because Daddy said he could is still inside of me. Waiting, begging, for approval from my father that’s never come. That now maybe never will.

“We all want our parents to be proud of us, Rhyson. Even when they’re crappy, sometimes we still want them.” Kai angles her head on my shoulder until her soft, dark eyes plumb mine. “Can I tell you something?”

I nod, lost in the brief respite her company offers. Things don’t feel as bad when she’s close, and I want to handcuff her wrist to mine in case she gets it into her head she should leave me.

“Remember that step you fixed at Christmas?” I can’t even call the little breathy sound that escapes her lips a laugh. It’s too short. Too harsh. “I told you I used to sit on that very step every birthday wondering if my daddy would come home.”

My fingers tighten around hers, sharing the little strength I have left with her.

“And he never did.” Tears pool in her eyes. “No cards, no presents. Nothing after he left. Now, he really was an asshole. You were right. I hated that Mama still wanted him and still needed him after he cheated and abandoned her, but on some level, I still wanted him too. It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t change it.”

She rubs her thumb over my hand, soothing me more.

“So I get it. Your dad was awful to you, but you can still love him. Just because he can’t manage your career doesn’t mean he can’t be a father to you some day. That relationship may not look like what I had with my mom, but it can be something. You both have to want it, and it’s okay that you still do. ”

How do I tell her I have no frame of reference for that man fathering me? I don’t even remember when we realized I could play the piano the way I can. I was too young, and as soon as they knew, my parents started plotting to capitalize on it. So I don’t ever really remember feeling like anything to them but a meal ticket. Like a business they had to run. Even though Bristol and I have gotten closer since she started managing me, I’m a business to her too.

The only one who has ever felt truly like family is Grady. I glance across the waiting room to see Grady’s head buried in his hands. He always wanted to reconcile with my father. Rescuing me ruined his relationship with his twin brother. I know Grady took Emmy to New York for Christmas as a peace offering, but I don’t know how much peace they made. I’m not the only one wondering if we’ll ever get the chance to be a family again.

I’M NOT SURE WHEN THE SILENCE we’re all soaking in becomes sleep, but it does. My body finally surrenders to exhaustion, even though my mind wants to remain alert and available for Rhyson as soon as his father is out of surgery.

I blink away the last vestiges of sleep to consider the quiet waiting room. Grady is contorted into a sleeping pretzel on the chair across from us. Bristol is stretched out on a love seat. Rhyson and I lean into each other on the couch we’re sharing, his arm around me and my head on his shoulder.

Waking up in Rhyson’s arms is better this time. I know him differently, intimately now. I’ve wrapped my legs around the curve of his butt as he pushed into me. I’ve taken him into my body, and now I not only know his scent but also his taste. In the last week, my heart has missed him, but my body has been haunted by the pleasure we shared. I can’t lie to myself. I want it again. I want him again.

I lean back, pressing into the waiting room couch so I can get a better look at him. Long lashes rest on his cheeks and his wide mouth is relaxed. I know as soon as he wakes up, all of that will change. Regret and anxiety have been boring a hole in him ever since he got the call about his father. I want him to rest as long as he can. I ease myself out from beneath his arm, careful not to wake him.

“Who are you?”

The quiet question comes from a few feet away. A woman with auburn hair and Rhyson’s eyes stands there calmly considering me. I stand, glancing down to make sure Rhyson is still asleep.

“I-I’m Kai Pearson,” I whisper, moving closer to her so I won’t have to speak any louder. “Rhyson’s friend.”

“Hmmmm.” Just a sound that moves her eyebrows up in disdain or disapproval. I’m not sure which, but it doesn’t feel good, what those rising brows do to me.