“Okay. I loved being in the studio. I’d taken some modules as part of my degree, but I’d avoided it because I really didn’t want to follow in Jimmy’s footsteps. I didn’t want those comparisons. And I was worried it was some kind of weird Daddy issue, so I fought it. Turns out I love it. And I happen to be good at it. I went to college, gained more skills I need, and went to the bank for a loan to set up a studio of my own and got turned down.”
Disappointment laced her words. “Did they say why?”
“They felt I didn’t have enough practical experience. I figured if I was going to fix that, having one of the greatest music producers alive give me a reference might be a good start. Even if the reference would only leapfrog me into a better full-time job. And with that, I could apply again. But I don’t even know where Jimmy’s head is at. I just told him I needed some work experience, but I . . .”
Cerys glanced over to the curtained window.
“But I what?”
“I’m starting to wish he’d just see me, Jase. Like, really see me. And it sounds pathetic when I say it out loud, and I’m too old to need my dad.”
The words pricked something raw inside. He’d lost his dad at six and knew something of the pain of not having a father. Hell, even his mum had abandoned him. That hole you never admitted to. The one that made you feel as though no one on the planet really wanted you. When it was parents’ evening, or your footie match, and you saw everyone else looking happy with their folks.
Jase wished he could give her that gift of Jimmy taking notice. Because when she saw him, saw beneath his anger to who he was, she gave him a foundation and strength.
“I’m sorry, for that day in the studio when I called you Baby Bexter. You were right to call me out. From what I’ve seen of Jimmy, I’m guessing he probably doesn’t want to show you any nepotism and has gone too far in making his point. And I’m sure he sees how good you are. How can he not?”
“Well, I only came out here for three months. I’m technically violating my tourist visa. So, we don’t have much time to figure it out. Then, I go home.”
Fuck.
He hadn’t thought about that. Her being here, him being back in the UK.
But what had his nan said? Listen. Tenderness. He reached for her hand. “I don’t know much, but I do know a lot about barging through a door and making space for yourself until all eyes are on you. I can help you do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“We need a plan.”
“For what?”
“Operation get Cerys the best reference and job ever. We start with your dad. And how you stop asking for permission to do everything and just start showing up. What’s he going to do? Kick you out of the control room?”
“He might.”
“And if he does, so what? You aren’t getting what you need from him now, so try something different.”
“Like what?”
“I’ll give you one, for a start. Hit up everyone you know and ask them for help. Ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
Jase pitched his voice to hers. “Hey, Jase. I have this dream to open a recording studio, and to do that, I need two things. Some great references and better experience than I have. Could you help me with either of those things, please?”
Cerys rolled her eyes. “Jase.”
“I’m serious.”
“Fine. Hey, Jase. I have this dream to open a recording studio, and to do that, I need two things. Some great references and better experience than I have. Could you help me with either of those things, please?”
“Why, Cerys. I’m so glad you thought to ask me. Of course I can help. Easiest reference ever. I’ll mention how we’re anxious to start work in the studio you are looking to build, which, at some point in time, I assume we will be given a discount for our troubles.”
Cerys laughed. “How utterly selfless of you. But, done. Continue.”
“And I’ll talk to the band about you potentially helping us out as our assistant sound engineer when we go on tour, if that is something that would help if you still need work then.”
Her fingers linked with his. “You’d do all that?”
“Yes. Did you help out with any of the bands that came before us?”
“Century Done. A country duo. I helped Mitchell Cutler with vocal exercises. He was really appreciative.”
Jase bit down on the flicker of jealousy. “How appreciative?”
“Appreciative enough to say thanks when he packed up to go home.”
“Are they a big act?”
“They took home best album and vocal duo at the Country Music Awards last year.”
“So, big then. Perfect. You get in touch with Mitchell and tell him that you now have a really big, tough boyfriend and explain why you need a reference.”
Cerys grinned. “I’m not lying to get a reference.”
Jase pulled on the zipper of her onesie and tugged her close so he could kiss her. She tasted of strawberry jam, sweet like she was. “You think it would be a lie?”
She rubbed two fingers across her lips. “I don’t know. Would it?”
“Are you going to make me kiss you again?”
“It depends. Are you my boyfriend?”
Jase studied her face and, for a moment, she wondered if her own insecurities had made her push him too hard.
Two weeks ago, they didn’t know each other. And seventy-two hours ago, she’d nearly run him over.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was a totally unnecessary question. I’m not sure where that sudden need for definition came from.”
Jase looked confused. “Wait, didn’t I suggest I was your boyfriend first, before you got all self-reflective about it? Did I say that wrong?” he asked. “Nan said be tender and listen. I listened to you say your dad wasn’t paying attention to you, and I can help, and I held your hand.”
“You told your nan about me?”
“Yeah. Of course I told my nan about you.”
Her heart melted as she smiled. “That might be even sweeter than breakfast and offers of help.”
He ran his thumb over her lip. “I like this smile best. When you really mean it. Brightens up my whole fucking day. I know we’re taking this slow while I deal with shit, but I want a label that means something to me.”
“What do you mean?”
Jase placed his hands on top of his head and inhaled a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, before returning his hands to his lap. “I’m fed up with everyone assigning shit labels to me. Dick, or angry. Dumb student. Half-brother, or equally half-arsed singer. I’m fed up with being the son of a criminal, or a parentless kid, an almost rock star. Most likely to break up the band. I want a label that means something. I want it to be something good, Cerys. And boyfriend means I’m someone’s by choice. And hopefully I’ll be a half-decent one and live up to it.”
Vulnerability was a deceptively easy emotion to describe, yet incredibly difficult to be. Opening yourself up to someone after years of feeling rejected by everyone else took a courage she wasn’t sure she possessed. But in those few sentences, Jase had told her so much about himself that she could weep for him.