Blaire left.
The city.
The state.
Me.
And all I wanted was to get her back.
She’d told me to stay in LA. I had to be in the studio anyway for the rest of the week. I had obligations. But how the hell did they expect me to play the love songs I’d been working on the last couple months? The ones that were about her beautiful face and kissing her perfect lips and wanting nothing but to bind my life to her?
So, I said fuck it to the love songs.
I refused to work on them in the studio. And I wrote as if in a fever dream, of all my pain and heartbreak over her leaving. I wrote five songs in a matter of days. Delirious and desperate, I handed the lyrics off to the band, and we did nothing but burn through the pain. All day, every day, rehearsing the songs that I could already feel would shape the second half of the album.
I had no idea how I’d ever record those love songs again. But it was a problem for another day. Another Campbell.
“Hey, man,” Santi said, clapping me on the back. “Get your shit. We’re going out.”
“I’m not going out anywhere. I have a few more songs in me.”
“No,” Viv said with a shake of her head. “We’re going to go get drunk.”
Yorke nodded. “You need it.”
Even West agreed. “Come on. Getting out of here will help.”
Before I could protest, Viv and Santi looped their arms with mine and tugged me out of the studio and into an awaiting limo. They’d planned this ahead of time. Maybe they were tired of working on my heartbreak songs.
When we arrived at the club, Viv secured a booth for the lot of us, and we sank down into the plush leather seats. She dropped a shot of Patrón in front of my face.
“Drink up, love,” she said.
I didn’t argue. I tossed the shot back and called for another from our bartender. The scantily clad girl hurried over and poured me a second shot. Her eyes were wide as she watched me down it. I called for another. She hadn’t even left.
“Should I leave you the whole bottle, sugar?” she asked with a laugh.
“Whoa,” Viv said with alarm. “Slow down. Have a beer or something.” She snatched my third shot and passed it to Santi. “We want you to be drunk. Not obliterated.”
I glanced up at the bartender. Now that I was here, I didn’t want to think or feel anything. “I want to get obliterated.”
She giggled and poured me another shot. I drank it before Viv could steal it.
Weston leaned back in his seat and observed the scene. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” I assured him. I gestured to West. “Pour one for my friend here.”
He held his hand up. “No thanks. I’ll just have a beer.”
“Good for you,” Yorke said with a nod of approval.
Santi crashed into the seat next to him. “No shots, hombre?”
West shrugged. “I try not to overdo it. When addictive personalities run in your family, it’s for the best. Trust me on that.”
“Well, forget it then,” I said. “More for me.”
But just because West wasn’t taking shots didn’t mean I wasn’t. He’d come for moral support. I’d come to forget that the girl of my dreams had walked away.
I’d been so fucking stupid. I’d followed her on social media. I’d known she never had the baby. All this time, I’d thought that she’d had an abortion. It had made sense in my mind. No baby equaled only one thing. But to hear it from her, it was clear that I’d been wrong. So fucking wrong. And she’d had to relive that on a red carpet with a microphone in her face after a week of other anxiety-inducing shit.
Worse yet, she’d called to talk to me about it. And I’d been so deep in my new LA life, working around the clock and drinking when I wasn’t, that I didn’t even remember her phone call. What a worthless piece of shit I’d been.
I was waist deep in alcohol when I heard a voice call, “Is that Campbell Abbey?”
Cosmere was in a private booth in a VIP section of the nightclub. No one could get over here unless they were also of celebrity status. And even to my addled brain, I knew that voice.
I caught sight of the long, dark hair and her signature pout. “Nini Verona.”
“It is you!”
Viv coughed loudly. Yorke put his hand on my shoulder.
Santi said, “Uh, man…”
I laughed at them, shrugging off Yorke’s hand. “It’s fine.”
They all looked at me like it was not fine. But they didn’t realize that I had no interest in the likes of Nini. Yes, we’d had a brief fling before the tour at the end of last year, but it hadn’t been anything. And it wasn’t anything now.
She crossed into our booth and pulled me into a quick hug. “I heard you were back in LA.”
“Yeah? Who hasn’t with all my fucking press?” I grumbled.
She laughed. I’d almost forgotten that her laugh tinkled like a chime. She leaned her hip into a column next to the booth, accentuating her curves in her plastered-on black dress. “Well, good thing I’m here now.”
“Nini,” Santi said with a sigh.
“I’d say it’s good to see you,” Viv said with an arched eyebrow, “but you have shit timing.”
She blew Viv a kiss. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“We are in crisis mode.”
“I’m not in a crisis,” I slurred.
“I’ve heard the rumors,” Nini admitted. “I just got in from New York for an Cunningham Couture event. Didn’t guess I’d see you.”
“Take a seat.”
Viv’s eyes widened. “If you’re photographed together, Campbell…”
“I know. I know.” I waved her off.
Nini took the seat and asked for a vodka water with a splash of lime. “So, does this mean you’re single?”
I cringed at the words. My brain was fuzzy, but I wasn’t stupid. “God, I fucking hope not.”
Nini pouted slightly. “Too bad.”
“As if we would have ever worked. You were too obsessed with your New York boarding school friends.”
Nini was old, old upper-crust money on her mother’s side and super fucking rich from rumored Mafia money on her dad’s side. She was the perfect mix of Upper East Side princess and Italian heiress. I’d found out quick that her real life was sort of terrifying in its intensity.
“True,” she admitted. “And this Blaire? She makes you happy?”
I nodded. “I’m in love with her.”
Nini took her drink from the bartender and sipped it absentmindedly. Or seemingly at least. I’d never seen her do anything absentminded. She had a quick mind and a ruthless edge. People thought she was just a pretty face, but she was sharp as a razor’s edge.
“Then, what are you doing here?”
“She doesn’t want to see me.”
“What girl wouldn’t want to see you?”
“Blaire. I fucked it up.”
Nini shot me a look. “Did you fuck it up, or is this just your life?”
I shrugged. I didn’t want to think about that right now. I wanted to get shit-faced and not think. Because, yes, obviously, this was my life. It was always going to be difficult for someone who was outside of the circle to integrate into it. Much harder when I had a troop of people who snooped for clues. Which was how they’d discovered the abortion in Blaire’s medical history. Someone should probably be fired for that shit.
But just because it was hard didn’t make it impossible. I didn’t want Blaire to have to deal with this shit. I wanted it to be easy and uncomplicated, like it had been these past months in Lubbock.
Except my life was in both Lubbock and LA. I couldn’t change that. And Michael had proven how hard it was to have it all to begin with. What would it be like if she was always back in Lubbock? As she was now.
“More drinks,” I said, deciding to ignore Nini’s question.
“Fine, fine,” Nini said. “It’s not my place. And the reporter was wrong to bring up her past. But we’ve all dealt with that shit before.”
“She’s not one of us though,” I argued.
“No. She’s not.”
“And she doesn’t deserve this shit.”
“And the rest of us do?”
“It doesn’t matter. Blaire is gone. I don’t know what our relationship is. But I do know that I’m madly in love with her, and nothing is going to change that. If you’re staying, Nini, then let’s stop talking and get back to drinking.”
She held her hands up. “I see where your heart is, Campbell Abbey. And I am here for it. I just think if she means that much to you, you should go after her.”
If only that were an option.
There was no rulebook for this. No easy way out.
She needed space. She needed time.
I could give her that if she needed it. But all I would do in the meantime was pine, drink, and write. Sometimes, all at the same time.
I held my hand up for the bartender. “More Patrón shots here.”
Nini shot a look at Viv that said they both had my interest at heart. She may not have known Nini was going to be here, but it was a kick in the ass to see her. I certainly wasn’t listening to the rest of them. But Nini didn’t sugarcoat, and seeing her only made me want Blaire even more.
Too bad all I had was tequila.
I downed another shot and another until I forgot the entire thing had happened.
My head felt like a bomb had detonated inside it.
I clutched it as I opened my bleary eyes and looked around the room. This was not my bed. It was distinctly feminine. Crisp white and soft blush everywhere. My heart pounded as I jerked upward and then immediately regretted it.
“Fuck,” I spat.
Where the fuck was I? It wasn’t a hotel room, but I had no recollection of this space either. Which was a bad, bad thing. I wouldn’t have done anything supremely stupid, like go home with someone else.
All I remembered from last night was bemoaning my loss of Blaire, and then Nini had shown up and…
And then Nini had shown up.
Well, shit.
I threw the covers off me and found I was still in my clothes from last night. That was…a good sign. Even if it left me a lot more rumpled and dirtier than the day prior. I staggered to the door and wrenched it open.
Nini stood there in nothing but a white button-up, holding a glass of water. Her eyes narrowed at my state. “Well, it’s about fucking time.”
I gaped at her. “We didn’t…”
She shot me a licentious smile. “We didn’t.”
I blew out a harsh breath. “Thank God. What am I doing here?”
“I won’t take that as an insult.” She shoved the water in my hand and a pair of Tylenol. “How much do you remember from last night?”
“I remember you showing up.”
“Well, you got obliterated, as you wanted. I brought the band back to my place because it was closest.”
“Did I do anything stupid?”
“You spoke of your deep love for your lost woman all night and bored the shit out of all of us,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s past noon. You should get up. Your brother keeps calling.”
“Fuck.” I downed the water and took the medicine before following her out into the living room. The rest of the band was lounging in her apartment. I picked up the phone as it rang again and answered the video chat. “Hollin, fuck, sorry.”
Hollin’s face was stone. “I’ve been calling all morning.”
“I just woke up.”
Nini waved her fingers at him. “Hello, Abbey brother.”
Hollin gaped at her and then narrowed his eyes at me. “Tell me you are not as fucking stupid as you look.”
“I am not,” I told him, heading back into the bedroom.
“That was Nini Verona.”
“Yeah. We met up last night, but nothing happened.”
“Jesus, Campbell, I was going to ask what the fuck you were still doing there. Blaire is a wreck. You need to get your ass here and figure it out.”
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “I want to do that, bro, but she said she wanted to go home alone.”
“You are fucking stupid.” Hollin shook his head. “She said that, but she doesn’t mean it, idiot. She misses you. Piper hasn’t said much, but I know that Blaire still loves you. God knows why.”
I laughed and leaned back against the bedroom door. “You think I still have a shot? The situation is so fucked up.”
“You left her once before. If you don’t chase her now, then you’ll never get her back.”
I nodded. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. I’m coming home. Pick me up?”
“Good,” Hollin said with a nod. “I’ll meet you at the airport.”