“The label wants something new. So I played the songs that you wrote. They loved them. They want to record them.”
I can feel the color draining from my face, “They want you to record them?”
Those songs are too personal. They’re poetry that’s emotional and raw. They’re about my life. I shared a couple of them with Ashton when we first met, but they were never meant to be heard by anyone else. He promised that if I shared them, he’d keep them safe.
“No.” I croak, my voice cracking.
“No?”
“No,” I reassure. “You’ve taken too much from me already. I’ll never give you those songs too.”
He slams his fist into the wall, causing the artwork to shake.
“You’ll sign the rights over.” He demands. “You’ll sign them, and you’ll do it with a smile on your face.”
“I will not.”
“Oh, you will.” He demands, “Or I’ll make sure every single person on this planet finds out how you spent three months in rehab, recovering from an eating disorder. We’ll see how many people trust your fitness journey then.”
I feel the entire room spin as he steps back, slamming the door so hard it makes me jump. The last thing I want to do is give Ashton those songs, but he’s right. No one can know about my toxic relationship with food, not even if it could help someone else that might need help.
I think about it for the rest of the night. I even talked to Brea about it. She came in after she heard Ashton yelling and slamming doors. I don’t know what to do at this point but to buy myself some time. I unblock Ashton’s number and send him a text.
Me: Let me think about it.
I wait for a minute, but he’s quick to respond.
Ashton: The label needs an answer. You have one week.
I curl up into bed and find myself itching to text Eric, to call him, and hear his voice. At this point, I didn’t need to make things more complicated. Right now, I have a business to handle and Ashton to deal with.
I didn’t want to give him anything. Not my body, not satisfaction, and certainlynotmy words.
CHAPTER 28
ERIC
Standing on Hanna’s doorstep, it was easy to start second-guessing my choice to come here. The house was nothing like I pictured Hanna ever living in, a modern farmhouse and huge. I guess it didn’t matter what house it was, just the people living in it. Blowing out a deep breath, I ring the doorbell and wait.
A few seconds later, Hanna opens the door, holding a golden retriever back by the collar.
“Come on in,” She huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “He’s friendly, just excited.”
She lets the dog go, and he runs around in about fifty circles.
I smile at how flustered she is, “He’s hyper.”
“Yeah, he is. Come here, Jet!” She calls, opening the back door to let him outside.
“So…” She starts, racking her brain for an icebreaker. One that I’m not sure she’s ever going to find.
“How’s Ellie?” I interrupt, causing her chest to deflate.
“She’s doing better. Still sore but doing much better. How is Lainey?”
I shake my head, “Physically, she’s fine. Mentally? I don’t know.”
“We aren’t going to press charges or anything. I think she’s in enough trouble as it is. I still can’t believe it.”