Wright That Got Away (Wright #11) by K.A. Linde



“Bobby, stop fucking calling me kid.”

“You’re a kid to me,” he said calmly. He was used to dealing with artists. This was his area. “Tell me what the problem is.”

“The songs…they’re not about anything.”

“Is this about the critical reviews of the last album?”

I winced and said nothing. The critics had shredded our last album. Fans fucking loved it. We’d sold out a worldwide stadium tour in under fifteen minutes. But the critics were brutal. They’d called the lyrics trite and boring. They couldn’t believe I’d written this album after the last one had so much heart. I could still hear the words of one particular critic saying, “The album is baseless and unimaginative. Campbell Abbey is a one-trick pony.”

I should have been able to shake it.

But I was afraid they were right.

“I need more time. It’s like I’ve lost my muse.”

Bobby really looked at me. He must have seen the pained desperation on my face. The need to work as an artist and not a machine. The album had to be good enough for me, and with what I had, it wasn’t going to be.

He sighed. “All right. I can give you to the end of July.”

“That’s only a month, Bobby.”

“It’s all the leeway I can pull for you. You have a month to find your muse.” He tossed the notebook back to me. “Either way, you’re going to get your ass on a plane to LA to work on the next album.”





3





Blaire





Campbell was going back to LA.

Good. That was…good. In fact, it was exactly what I wanted. He’d been in Lubbock since Peyton’s wedding. The wedding where I had brought a date and purposely avoided Campbell all night. I’d had a good time. But I would have had a better time if he hadn’t been there at all.

Then, he’d spent the last month in town. A whole fucking month. Hanging out at the winery, spending time with my—our—friends, and generally ruining my peace and quiet.

I couldn’t exactly tell him to leave. He had every right to be back in Lubbock. And I couldn’t tell him to stop hanging out with our friends or at the winery. We were too enmeshed to extricate ourselves from each other’s lives. Which was hilarious when I stopped to think about it. Since in high school, we had been so far from each other’s lives that he didn’t even know I existed until senior year.

LA was where he belonged. It would be better for everyone when he left.

But the last interaction had left me flummoxed. Despite myself, I’d followed Campbell’s rise to fame over the last couple of years. It was hard not to when he was in every headline. I knew the celebrities that he’d dated, the girls he was rumored to have hooked up with, the songs he’d written about the breakups. So, why in the hell had he asked me out?

Should I be flattered? Because I was mostly confused. Campbell Abbey could have any girl on the planet, so why did he want me?

Which brought me right back around to the cynical part of my brain…the realistic part of my brain…which said, of course he didn’t want me at all. He’d used the opportunity to fuck with me. To throw me off-balance for ignoring him since he’d strolled back into Lubbock. He’d used his celebrity charm and sexy, messy hair and that panty-melting smile to treat me just like every other girl. But it wasn’t going to fucking work.

Fuck. I just wanted to go home.

“Hey, you all right?” Piper asked, dragging me out of my own circle of mental torture.

“Fine,” I lied.

Piper arched an eyebrow. “That was convincing.”

“Can I have the keys? I’m going to bail early.”

“No way!” Piper declared. “We’re celebrating. You can’t go yet.”

She was still seated in her boyfriend’s lap. Hollin wrapped his arm around Piper’s waist and looked up at me.

“Yeah, Blaire, you can’t go. We’re just getting started.” He nodded his head toward the table. “Bombay and lime.”

He winked. It was my go-to drink.

“I just want to go home,” I told her, eyeing the drink.

Piper nudged it toward me. “One drink. If you aren’t having a good time after you finish…you can go.”

I picked up the glass with a devious smile and then downed the entire contents, opening my throat and letting it slide all the way down. Hollin gaped at me as I dropped the glass back onto the table.