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“I don’t need a babysitter.” I put my hands on my hips to try to look indignant but pitched forward. I would’ve fallen on my face if Piper hadn’t been there to catch me and leverage me back against the Jeep.

“She’s drunk. And she does need a babysitter.”

Campbell frowned. As if he’d just realized that I was a wasted mess. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll stay with Blaire.”

“Good. Be nice,” Piper growled. Then, she was stomping back inside with a huff.

“You don’t have to stay,” I told him. “You should just leave since it’s the only thing you’re really good at.”

Damn my drunk mouth.

Campbell winced slightly. “I’ll stay right here actually. If I left, I think Piper would hunt me down and kill me.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “At least my best friend can scare you into being a gentleman.”

Campbell took a step forward until he was nearly in my personal space. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Not even a little. I was captivated by him. I could remember the smell and taste of him. The want of him. It clouded my already-addled brain.

It would be easy to want Campbell Abbey again. So easy.

“I want to apologize,” Campbell said evenly.

“What?” I asked, jolted out of my runaway thoughts. “Why?”

“For how I acted earlier. When I asked you out,” he clarified. “I know we have history. I know that you’re…seeing someone else. Though I suppose I didn’t know it was serious when I asked you. But I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable. I was mad.”

“Then, I’m sorry for making you mad,” he said evenly. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his ripped black jeans, as if it was the only way to keep himself from touching me.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re leaving again. So, just run on back to LA. Go live your big, glamorous life. It’s what you always wanted.”

His face was like stone when I delivered that one-two punch. It had been eight years since I’d had to read Campbell’s expressions. And it should have been difficult to discern what he was thinking, but somehow, it wasn’t. Even tipsy, I could tell that he didn’t want to say whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

He glanced down at the ground and kicked a stray rock. “I’m not.”

“You’re not what?”

Our eyes met again.

“Leaving.”

My jaw dropped. “But your manager said…”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t call the shots. They want me back in LA to record a new album, but I don’t have any songs worth recording right now. So, I decided to stay in town and try to relax.” He shrugged. “Find a way to get my music back.”

“No,” I whispered. His face darkened at the word. “Well, I guess it’ll just be like the last eighteen months then.”

A smirk crossed his lips. “Except that you’re speaking to me now.”

Damn it, he was right. If I’d just not talked to him, it would have been so much easier to continue. But now, we’d broken the dam, and I didn’t know how to stop. Already, we had been alone twice in one night. Only now, we were really alone. There was no one outside within a hundred yards of us. Piper should have been back, but something told me she was purposely taking her sweet time.

My eyes darted to his lips. Those perfect lips. God, I was too drunk to think coherently. There was no other explanation for why I was suddenly thinking about kissing Campbell Abbey.

“So?” I finally got out.

“So, I guess it will be different than the last eighteen months.”

“I spoke to you before.”

He chuckled and took another step in closer. “Oh, I remember. You said, ‘Got something to say?’ and looked at me as if the world could swallow me up and eat me whole.”

I flushed at that memory. It had been a few months ago, when all of us had flown to Dallas to see Cosmere perform. Campbell had given Hollin backstage passes and seats in the Owners Club. It had been incredible…until we went backstage at the end of the show to hang out with the band.

I hadn’t even wanted to go to that damn show. Piper insisted that I attend, and some part of me wanted to be there, doing cool things with my friends. The only problem was Campbell…and the fact that it was exactly what I’d thought it would be. Campbell, surrounded by gorgeous groupies, all vying for his attention. Then, he had the nerve to get upset when Santi, the drummer for Cosmere, put his arm around me. It was an actual joke—unlike the bullshit Campbell had pulled tonight. Santi was boisterous and overly friendly and ridiculous. He wasn’t hitting on me.

And the whole thing would have been funny, but as soon as Santi dropped his arm around my shoulders and asked me if I was taken, Campbell jumped to his feet. Santi was incredulous. Everyone in the room had looked at us. It was one thing for Campbell to get mad that someone was hitting on his little sister. It was quite another for him to be madder that they were hitting on me.

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