The display said: Blair.
“Fuck off,” I muttered, rejecting the call.
“What?” Elle leaned in.
“Just this guy, calling me.”
“So? Block his number.”
I probably should’ve.
Though if I did that, I wouldn’t be able to see when his calls stopped. And I was definitely waiting for that to happen.
I looked through the notifications on my phone. I had a bunch of texts from friends… and three missed calls. All from Blair.
What the fuck.
Did he not get the message by now? The one that I was not, in any way, interested?
Nope. Apparently not.
I swiped away the notification of his missed calls.
I had a text from Ashley—my dear friend/lead singer/ex-boyfriend—and opened it.
Ash: Heading to your place
The text had come in about twenty minutes ago. I also had a few texts from his girlfriend.
Danica: At your house now.
Danica: We used the key from the coffee can outside. Are we allowed to do that?
Danica: Ash said it was ok.
I smirked, texting her back.
Me: Totally ok. Be there soon.
And finally, my day was looking up. This house party would lift my spirits, if anything could.
Friends. Drinks. Music.
My music. On my turf.
I was totally blowing this album release party off. I’d made an appearance. That was all that was required of me here.
“So,” I prodded Elle. “Are you coming?” I gave her my most hopeful, expectant, I love you eyes, but I already knew the answer. If she was coming, she would’ve said so. She hardly needed a formal invitation.
“You know I would,” she said. “But Emma needs me. I’ve got her midnight milk supply, and I hate pumping.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “I miss the days when you’d stay over and we’d brunch it up together in the lazy late-morning. What if I catch on fire while I’m home alone? Who’ll beat the flames out of my hair?”
“Good point. But maybe someone else will stay over?” She cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I know if I don’t come, that means Flynn won’t either.”
“Oh, I’ve given up on that.”
“Have you?”
“Definitely. I thought we were flirting. We weren’t. The man would probably throw himself in front of a speeding car for me, but he won’t put out. I really have no use for a man like that in my life.”
Elle smirked. “You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, I do. Honestly, if I’m gonna die, let me get laid first.”
She laughed. I always made Elle laugh.
Maybe she just didn’t realize how serious I was when I said these things.
“Okay… I’m gonna say my goodbyes and tunnel out of here,” she said. “You?”
“I’m right behind you.”
We said our goodbyes, which took way too long. I was a popular woman.
Elle was even more popular.
Then I walked out with her and Flynn; he’d had Brody’s driver bring Elle’s car around to the back exit for them. And as Flynn escorted us through the crowd, I took a good, long look at him. And I wondered… Why?
Why was I so drawn to him in the first place?
Flynn was straight-laced and stiff. Strong and protective, too, and sure, that was hot.
But he wasn’t really… my type.
I appreciated that he always seemed to be looking out for me, out of courtesy to Elle, to Brody. I really did.
Even though it was unnecessary.
But why couldn’t I read the signs that he was never into me?
Outside the restaurant, he turned to me and said, “I can get someone to walk you to your car—”
“No need.” I waved that off. “Just take care of the superstar.” I gave Elle a final hug, then headed off.
“Drive safe!” Elle called after me. “And enjoy your party!”
“Always do!” I called back.
As I headed through the parking lot to my car, I glanced into the shadows. It was early October, and it was a dark, cloudy night. There were people not far away, on the sidewalk, going in and out of the restaurant.
Elle’s car drove past as I was getting into mine, and Flynn tooted the horn. I waved good night.
And it occurred to me…
Maybe it was the instinct to want to be close to the safety Flynn provided and not him that I wanted. Maybe I liked that he was looking out for me, way more than I’d realized?
Again… Why?
It was a weird, nagging feeling, and it made no sense.
What was Flynn gonna do, protect me from having a bad day?
Chapter Two
Summer
I woke up in the dead of night.
It was an ugly wakeup, disturbing. The kind that tears you out of a deep dream. I was disoriented but wide awake, and I didn’t know why.
I just knew that something had woken me up.
My heartbeat slammed in my chest. I was alone in bed, in my bedroom, and it was dead silent. I realized I was holding my breath and exhaled, hard.
“Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing my face.
What the hell.
Maybe I was having a bad dream? But I couldn’t remember it.
All I could remember was… I was having a bad day.
And maybe it wasn’t quite done with me yet.
I threw back the covers and sat up. Everything felt creepy and wrong, like the lingering effects of a nightmare.
I never had nightmares.
I reached for my robe, on the chair by my bed, and slipped it on. I had a little nightie on, but I had a feeling I wasn’t alone. Probably Ashley had crashed on my couch downstairs and was staggering around drunk, trying to find himself another beer.
I dragged myself into the bathroom, gradually waking up as I went to pee. I hadn’t even turned on a light, but I didn’t need to. The moon was full and crazy bright; the clouds had cleared, and it was shining through the windows like a lighthouse beacon.
When I was finished in the bathroom, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. It was two-forty-six a.m.. I hadn’t been asleep all that long.
I headed downstairs, and that was when
